My Grandfather’s Grief

It’s been about six months since my Russia trip and I’ve been gently ruminating over it all this time, trying to get a fix on Mother Russia. I grew up with Slavic grandparents. My grandmother was Polish and my grandfather was Russian. Cossack, actually, or so I guess since he came from outside of Odessa, which is in modern Ukraine where Cossacks came from.

I remember my grandmother sending care packages back to ‘The Old Country,’ every few months. Used clothing. Dried food. Small housewares. Used socks. My grandfather didn’t like to talk about the old country. We could see that it gave him too much grief.

So, all during the cold war, that was my impression of the people we were at war with. My grandfather’s grief.

On my trip across Russia, Moscow to Vladivostok, I saw about 15 cities over 6,000 miles of wilderness and stunning beauty. Every city and town was clean, the monuments well-tended and adorned with flowers, wedding parties posed for pictures, the people on the streets were genuinely friendly. I felt welcomed.

At one small station we stopped for a break to stretch our legs. Outside some members of my group started trading coins, American quarters for Russian rubles, with some children at the station. They were thrilled to use some of their English. When we went to go back on the train, one of them came up and gave us a chocolate bar just for us, for everyone in our car. Everywhere was like that. We felt welcomed. I just wanted to encapsulate that in a word or a phrase.

What is the Russian temperament today? What is the heart of Russia?

And I figured it out. You know what there was? A pioneer spirit. Even in the thousand-year-old cities, The Moscow’s, the Vladimir’s, the little Listvyanka’s on Lake Baikal. I felt an excitement. I got the energy of a people that are engaging in a grand renewal, an experiment in modern living tempered by a rich and nurturing history. There is modernity here. And there is great history. We saw displays of loyalty with people waving flags.

“What’s that?” we asked.

“Oh, today’s Navy Day. People are celebrating the navy,” we were told. 

And so did I, shouting “Russia!” at people by the docks of Listvyanka who may have been my enemy lately, though I knew not why or how.

And a few days later?

“Oh, now that’s Air Fore day! We celebrate our air force,” I was told. It made perfect sense.

Yevgeny, our guide and leader for the whole trek, was able to recite some Pushkin he memorized as a child. Oxanna, our local guide in Irkutsk, boasted that her husband was an engineer working on, “The best fighter jets in the world.” Everyone wanted their picture taken with us. Many cities had concerts going on in their central squares or fairs with rides and booths and children at play while parents watched, holding hands. They seemed at peace.

Building projects are everywhere. New highways, new waste treatment plants, expansion of the Trans Siberian Railroad to accommodate China’s Belt and Road Initiative linking Vladivostok to Lisbon abound. The planners of the original Trans Siberian had plans to bring it all the way to New York via the Aleutian Islands. 

Imagine that. Traveling from Paris to New York by rail. The revolution put an end to that and the money for it disappeared, along with its chief benefactor, Nicholas II. 

Who knows? Maybe the plans are still there?

Anything is possible when you are a pioneer.

I wonder if Russia today would be my grandfather’s joy?