This is just a little space for me to let friends know what I am up to-- easier than emailing everybody all the time from the internet cafe! This site does not allow "oldest entries first" formatting, so I had to give fake dates to the entries so that it can be read chrnonologically, but that makes the archives in reverse order--when the archive says "June," it is really "May," and vice-verse. Go figure. You can click the pics to get full-size images.

Day Four: Buddhism in St. Petersburg

This morning I went to the Buiyat Mongolian/Tibetan Buddhist temple. . . my first experience with the subway and all was fine until I got off the subway. . . unlike Japan, all subway lines are very simple (but they are about two miles underground, more on this when I get to upload pics), and all trains have only one platform with one direction on one side and the other direction on the other side, and the doors always open on the same side; connecting stations are pretty easy to figure out, and they use tokens-- one token for wherever you are going, including transfers. So this makes it a bit easier than the Japanese versions. Of course, my Cryllic needs to get better (it reminds me of the feelings of success at my first attempts to negotiate Japanese subways and doing sort of symbol-recognition on the first character of the destination name and just keeping that in my mind 'cause I couldn't read or pronounce the whole name). And the recorded announcements are somewhat understandable, too.

However. Once I got off the train I was completely lost. And I must say the Russians are pretty much minimally helpful to downright surly-- given my male tendancy not to ask questions and their natural brusqueness, it took quite a while to find my way the mere three blocks to the temple (http://www.marhotin.ru/marhotin-datsan-eng/). But finally I got it and all was OK. I thought the temple was closed (everything here seems closed to me) until I found a back door and got in, while a service was in session. Very different from the States, very liturgical/ritual w/ lots of chanting and bowing and money-offering. Just like the real thing! And, because this temple was shut down during the Soviet era and just restored about ten years ago, it is a good place to begin this journey since the major part of the tale is the revival of Mongolian Buddhism after the long Soviet suppression. The suppression of Buddhism around the world. . . maybe a new theme?

The temple was founded by Agvan Dorjiev (http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agvan_Dorjiev), one of those amazing fellows of a bygone era. . . part high-level political player, many parts local boy, more parts normal Buddhist wonderful person. . . and all mixed in with the "Great Game" being played at the time between Russia and Britain and others (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Great_Game).

Wonderful stories. . . and of course, all connected to the Valley in end. . . Agvan Dorjiev was Geshe Wangyal's teacher, who as I mentioned earlier was Thurman, Kirtz, and other's teachers, all reaching back through Rick Taupier at UMass to me here in St. Petersburg. . . neat!

I am now in the IBM Internet cafe in the Hermitage . . .I think the computer is about to go down.

OK, that is where the computer fucked up and shut me down. Fortunately, six hours later in my hotel, a draft message was saved so I can continue.

Ah, the Hermitage. Winter Palace of the Tzar m-f'er! What a place to call home! I was blown away from the outside at the size and ornate decorative style of the place, and the inside doesn't dissapoint. Rather than my pics, try http://www.hermitagemuseum.org/html_En/index.html and you can see it. What a place! Still, museums bore me. . . kings and wars and dead people and Flemish paintings of voluptuous women (painting tits and ass was their porn??? --and now our classic art???) and weapons and blah blah just don't work for me.

I'd rather have a beer on the street with some kids. . . and so I did. After the stupid Hermitage computer cafe blew up and screwed me I left and got a beer and wandered. . . even the moms with baby carriages are drinking pints of can beer as they walk. . . in the shadows of some major monument some kid had a guitar and a buddy who had a hat and was looking for a donation. . . when I laughed in English, he laughed back, "GIVE ME MONEY!!" And so I did. . . after a few minutes of bad folk music, I wandered around and came out the other side where his duplicate was performing. . . with a chick demanding "GIVE ME MONEY" . . . in a fetching manner. And so I did. All the while drinking with them. . . they sang to me, "MY BEER MY LIFE". . . "MY BEER MY RUSSIAN WIFE" .

And other folks on the street needing money. . . not so many beggars or homeless (it is too COLD here to live much on the streets), but enough to give money to. I decided that rather than buy the next junk item I don't need or have room for (AHHH-- but I *do want* the replica Fabergé egg. . .I have *always* wanted the Fabergé egg), forget it! Or how about the modern versions of the Russian dolls-- your choice, Osama Bin Laden to George Bush to Harry Potter!! I don't have room in my suitcase (buy something, gotta throw something away) or my house. . . so, half of what I would spend on crap like that I will give away and half I will save! Win-Win! So the guy with the weird triple-jointed fake leg hanging outside my cafe gets more cash. . . so do street musicians. . . so do various other beggars and urchins.

One cute thing is the couples necking and making out all over the streets. Maybe it is spring, or maybe it is Russia and love is more about the PDA, but everybody--old and young-- seems to be kissin' and gropin'. One of my favorites (and I tried to get a pic but it eluded me) is the couples on the really, really long escalators down into the subway. . . the boy or the girl turns around and faces their lover and they kiss and paw and love each other, one backwards and the other pressing down, and down and down . . . a *long* escalator and they are faced off like some sort of porceline figurines. . . very sweet!

OK, my bad failure moment. . . such an experienced traveler I screwed up. . . tomorrow is my find-out moment: coming through Paris, I bought two liters of Jim Beam, figuring the seven-day train ride will require at least that, or perhaps, should one bottle survive, it will be a great gift for some Mongolian yurt-warlord when I get to the steppes. . . OK, well. . . I just realized that you only get 3 ounces of liquids these days in your carry-on bag! In a sealed plastic bag!! SHIT! Well.

Maybe it will be OK. When I came through customs here in St. Petersburg. . . well, there were no customs. Total backwater airport, nothing! Just a sign: "If you have nothing go straight." Well, I couldn't resist going straight. It seems that the cops here are just as lazy and don't care about anything as the rest of the service industry . . .don't know what it was like back when, but today they all seem to be just kicking back. So, bottom line: I am just going to try and walk right on the airplane with two liters of Beam! Wish me luck! I would *really* hate to give 'em up. . . might be forced to chug both bottles right there.

So, trying to preseve my Beam for the train ride (which I still haven't gotten my ticket for, and the phone number of the person who will give me my ticket seems out of order) I have been learning vodka. . .much to everybody's delight, of course. Kari would be proud of me--or is it Katy that is the vodka drinker??

So far Russian food sucks. . . but then perhaps I don't know what it really is. . . maybe when I get on the train I will know!

Meanwhile Maki has left Hamp for Japan. . . perhaps the first time that we have both been out of the country in different countries at the same time.

I might be out of touch for a while when I am on the train. . . if I actually get my ticket and get on the train! DAMNIT I want my ticket!!

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