broken walls and narratives

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Travel and My Fears

 

Travel and My Fears

H. Bradford

5/21/17

I am getting ready for another trip and I feel a little afraid.  This time, I am traveling to Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, and Kyrgyzstan for three weeks.  Like always, I will go alone, though I will meet up with a group of strangers after a few days in Ashgabat.  From there, we will embark on an overland camping trip through the stans.  When I first fantasized about the trip, I imagined the wonder of seeing the dehydrated remains of the Aral Sea.  I imagined myself following the Silk Road through ancient, exotic cities.  I would traverse the rugged formerly Soviet states, admiring mosques, monuments, and a few remaining statues of Lenin.  It seemed very intrepid.  All winter, the trip was abstract.  I read books about the history of the region.  But, now that the trip is less than two weeks away, a new reality is setting in.  I am going to have to bush camp in the desert with scorpions, cobras, and several days without a shower.  I am going to have to navigate Ashgabat alone as a solo female American traveler.  Turkmenistan gets a fraction of the tourists that North Korea gets each year (about 9,000 compared to 35,000).  I am also moderately terrified of contracting dysentery, typhus, or any number of food or waterborne diseases.  (I do have some antibiotics from last year’s trip and was vaccinated last year against a variety of illnesses).   Also, ATM use in those countries is unreliable, so, I will have to carry a lot of cash and hope it is enough for the duration of my trip…and that I don’t lose it or have it stolen.  Internet is somewhat patchy in those countries and my cellphone does not work out of the country.  I have faced that same dilemmas before and fared alright, but, it does make me a little worried.

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The Darvaza gas crater in the Karakum desert- one of the places where I will be “bush camping” in just over two weeks from now.


Fear is not new.  I’ve always been afraid of travel.  Usually, there is this brave person inside of me, who is full of fantasy and confidence.  That person decides on some adventure, which looks great as a portrait in my imagination, but is not as fun as a lived reality.  Let’s call that person “Brave H.” For instance, when I was 19 years old, I decided that I would go to London and Paris alone.  I came from a town of 250 people and had never been on an airplane or road in a taxi.  Go big or go home, Brave H. says…until I am actually trying to figure out how airports work, on my first plane ride, and going across the ocean.  In retrospect, it is really no big deal.  That sort of travel seems easy.  But, to 19 year old me, that was a pretty big deal.  Over fifty countries later, I am still afraid, but the fear changes with new challenges.


Last year, I went to Southern Africa for an overland camping trip in South Africa, Namibia, Botswana, and Zimbabwe.  As the plane took off, I was pretty terrified.  I was terrified before then.  I had never actually gone camping, but somehow Brave H. signed me up for three weeks of it…in Africa.  I was afraid of being alone.  I was afraid of being the victim of crime- sexual assault in particular.  I was afraid of becoming very ill.  I was afraid that I was not up to the challenge of camping or the long days on bumpy roads.  I was a little afraid of insects, snakes, and animals.  Somehow, it wasn’t as bad as I feared. In fact, it was wonderful, fun, and even much easier than I imagined.  It took a few days of camping to come to the conclusion that I was going to make it.  Any small hardship was more than compensated for in the form of astonishing landscapes and animals.

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(A view of Victoria Falls from a helicopter.  I had a lot of anxiety as I had never been in a helicopter before.  But, overcoming fear and anxiety does have its rewards).

I was afraid the year before when Brave H. decided it was a good idea to visit Belarus and Ukraine, entirely alone.  After all, Brave H. wanted to see Chernobyl.  Brave H. wanted to visit a nature reserve outside of Minsk and partake in the weird splendor of the Cold War remnant.  So, that is where I went.  I don’t regret it.  Kiev was really beautiful and there was so much to see.  Minsk was not really pretty at all, but unique.  Neither place was teeming with tourists, adding a sense of bravery to my adventure.  I only spent a few days in each place.  I think that traveling often has waves of fear.  For instance, there is the anxiety of getting from the airport to the hotel without being ripped off or taken advantage of by a taxi driver.  Upon arriving at the hotel, there is elation after overcoming the first challenge.  After that, there are anxieties around finding a currency exchange, navigating the metro system, walking alone in the park, the other individuals staying in the hostel, the mysterious military parade, getting turned around, trying to find the monument to Baba Yar, etc.  It is like this on every adventure.  The ups and downs of figuring things out and staying safe in unfamiliar places.

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I have felt at least a little afraid during each of my trips.  I don’t particularly like being afraid, but I do like the feeling of accomplishment from figuring something out or successfully completing a task or adventure.  I suppose it makes me feel stronger and braver.  Of course, this only serves to inspire Brave H.to dream up bigger adventures and greater challenges.  I am not a robust, energetic, extroverted adventurer.  I am cowardly.  I like books and birds.  I enjoy museums and botanical gardens. I don’t really care for being dirty, lonely, terrified, tired, or sick.  Brave H. won’t stand for that.  Nope.  Life is too short.  I want to see interesting things and test myself.  Granted, there are people who test themselves far more.  For instance, there was a woman in her 60s on my last trip who went scuba diving with alligators in the Zambezi river.  Brave H. wants to be her.   Normal, nerdy, cowardly H. does not like water or all the pressure from being under water.  The same woman climbed mountains and scuba dived all over the world.  She also traveled to the “Stans” for an overland trip.  I will never be one of those amazing adventurers that I meet when I am out traveling.  The ones who inspire Brave H. to concoct an adventure or dream of new challenges.  I will always be afraid.  As I test myself, the boundaries of the fear extends to the next horizon.  I hope that horizon takes me to interesting places.  Maybe I will trek up mountains (at least smaller ones that don’t require actual climbing gear).  Maybe I will learn to scuba dive.  Maybe I will never do those things.  Maybe there is a limit to how far the boundary can be pushed.  It may be limited by experiencing disease or a discomfort so great that it pushes me back into my comfort zone.  Whatever happens, it is my hope that I can one day be that old lady who inspires others with her fearlessness and zeal for life.

dscf4256Brave H. thinks she is a bad ass.   Well, maybe someday it will be true.

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Vangarden Notes: Five Soviet Tomatoes

Vangarden Notes: Five Soviet Tomatoes

by H. Bradford

12/12/16


As you may or may not know, one of my hobbies for the past few years has been urban gardening.  I can’t say that I have a green thumb, but I do have a “red thumb” as I try to connect this hobby to my larger interest in socialism.  This is why the garden is called “the vangarden” as it is a play of words on “vanguard.”  I try to do different theme gardens and one of the themes is an Eastern European or Russian inspired garden.  This involves growing vegetables that hail from Eastern Europe.  In particular, I have been trying out some varieties of tomatoes that have ties to the former Soviet Union.  Now, as a Trotskyist I am not someone with a blind adoration of all things Soviet, but it did represent possibility and a distortion of potential.  It is also interesting to learn about the history of plants and try out varieties of vegetables that are not available in grocery stores.  There are dozens of tomatoes that can be connected to the Soviet Union.  These are just a few!  (note that the images are not from my garden)


Cosmonaut Volkov:


I found this tomato plant at the farmer’s market in Duluth this year.  It is an heirloom variety of tomato which was developed in the Ukraine.  The tomato seemed to grow without problems from disease, cracking, or pests and produced medium to large sized red tomatoes, with a slightly tapered bottom.  I purchased only one plant, but it produced well and actually climbed up the clothes line and a barrier that I had created for a raspberry plant.  It was the best growing full sized tomato that I grew last year.

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Cosmonaut Volkov is one of hundreds of tomato varieties grown by Igor Malsov (a retired engineer).  Maslov named the tomato after his friend Vladislav Volkov.  Volkov was one of several cosmonauts killed on the Soyuz 11 accident.  The accident occurred on the 30th of June 1971, when the re-entry capsule containing three cosmonauts depressurized as it prepared to reenter Earth’s atmosphere.  The cosmonauts on board were the only humans who have died in space.

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I am not aware of any other tomato that is named after an astronaut.  However, a newly discovered bush tomato is Australia was named after the fictional astronaut from the movie/book “The Martian.”  Solanum watneyi or Watney was the name assigned to the bush-tomato.  Bush-tomatoes are wild plants that can be toxic to humans, though aborigines ate some varieties by burning, drying, and roasting them.


Paul Robeson:

I have not yet grown Paul Robeson tomatoes, as I only learned about their existence this past fall!  It is a smooth, dark colored tomato introduced to the U.S. in the 1990s by a seed saver named from Moscow named Marina Danilenko.  Paul Robeson was an African American singer, scholar, lawyer, athlete, actor, Civil Rights activist, anti-imperialist, socialist.  He was popular in the Soviet Union, hence the naming of a tomato after him.  I am not aware of any other tomato that is named after an African American

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Memory to Vavilov:

I have not tried out this variety of tomato, but I thought it would be a good addition to the list.  Memory to Vavilov produces small red fruits.  Like Paul Robeson, it was made available in the United States by Marina Danilenko during the 1990s.  Unfortunately, I can not find out any additional information regarding who Marina Danilenko is.  Vavilov was a famous geneticist/botanist from the Soviet Union who contributed to plant science by hypothesizing that there were biodiversity hotspots where many domesticated plants originated and by creating an extensive seed bank in St. Petersburg.  He recognized the need to save seeds to preserve biodiversity, which he viewed as essential to food security.  This mission was taken so seriously that the scientists at the seed bank did not eat their seeds, even when faced with starvation during the 28 month siege of Leningrad.  Vavilov was awarded the Lenin Award, but was later thrown into prison once Stalin consolidated his power, where he continued to give lectures but later died.  He was thrown into prison for his opposition to Lysenkoism, or Stalin’s state sponsored scientific position against genetic inheritance, natural selection, and the existence of genes.  Vavilov was a hero to science, so I am glad that there is a tomato named after him.

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Black Krim:


Black Krim is a widely available tomato that I began growing a few years ago.  I was fascinated by the fact that it was a burgundy colored tomato.  The tomato itself originates in the Isle of Krim in the Black Sea near the Crimean peninsula.  It is a large, beefsteak tomato.  I have not been able to located an “isle of krim” even though almost every source on the history of Black Krim lists this as its place of origin.  The Russian translation of “Crimea” itself is “Krim.”  I wonder if these sources are confused or if there is really an “isle of Krim” that also happens to be a part of Crimea.  In any event, it is a tomato that is associated with Crimea.


According to various sources (listed at the end) it is possible that the tomato was popularized by soldiers returning from the Crimean War who gathered the seeds and shared them.  Although many sources list this history, it is more likely that soldiers popularized black tomatoes in general rather than Black Krim specifically.  I believe this because another source lists that Black Krim was discovered by lars Rosenstrom of Sweden in 1990.  Black tomatoes are native to Southern Ukraine and were popular across the Soviet Union.


Black tomatoes perform better in warmer climates and do not become as dark in the north.  Black tomatoes also have the strongest taste.  There were over 50 varieties of black tomatoes grown in the Soviet union, with some black tomatoes that have since been developed in the United States and Germany.


Black Krim tomatoes are dark colored because they have a gene in which the chlorophyll does not break down at it ripens.  Thus, the tomato is both red and green, making a purplish brown color.  Other black tomatoes, have been either selectively bred or genetically modified to have more anthocyanins, or the pigment which causes eggplant, blueberries, grapes, and plums to be dark colored.  The purpose of this is to make it have more anti-oxidants, a longer shelf life, and deeper, darker coloration.  Indigo rose was selectively bred over the course of decades (using wild tomatoes) to obtain a darker purple color.  There is also a GMO tomato that uses snapdragon genes to create a darker color, though I am not sure if it is commercially available.  The media has called the GMO tomato “cancer curing” which is a pretty big feat for a tomato.  I think Vavilov would probably approve of simply breeding new varieties and saving the varieties that are already in existence.

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Black Prince or Choyrnii Prins:

This is another dark colored tomato.  I found a seedling at the farmer’s market in Duluth. The appeal was that it has been grown in Siberia, which I thought would make it particularly cold hardy.  It is medium sized with a round shape.  I tried it out, but it did not seem to grow as well as Black Krim or other varieties.  Since I am already growing Black Krim, I probably would not grow this one again.  I am not sure how cold hardy it actually is, as we had a pretty late hard frost this year (Nov. 15th!).  But, since tomatoes were first cultivated in Central and South America, I can’t imagine that any tomato is really cold hardy…even one from Siberia!


Conclusion:

The above was just a small sample of tomatoes with Soviet connections.  Unfortunately, there isn’t a wealth of information on the internet about the history of tomatoes, so it is a patchwork of what I can find.  Perhaps next year I can grow the Paul Robeson tomato and “Amur Tiger” an orange cherry tomato.   There is also a pink tomato called Kremlin Chiming Clock, named after the 15th century clock which chimes twice a day in Red Square.  The variety of tomatoes attests to the popularity of tomatoes in the former Soviet Union.  I can imagine them grown in dachas, eaten fresh, added to borsch or solyanka, or chopped up with cucumbers into a salad.   While beets, cucumbers, and cabbage rank higher among the vegetables many people associated with Russia and its neighbors, tomatoes must have a special place to have yielded such variety.

 

 

 

 

Sources:

http://tatianastomatobase.com/wiki/Main_Page

http://www.veggiegardener.com/black-krim-january-2010-tomato-of-the-month/

http://www.dailykos.com/story/2012/7/8/1107277/-5-Heirloom-Tomatoes-Five-Stories-Part-1

http://www.almanac.com/blog/gardening-blog/why-do-people-dislike-black-tomatoes

http://www.seedaholic.com/tomato-black-krim.html

http://extension.oregonstate.edu/gardening/purple-tomato-debuts-indigo-rose

https://www.atlanticavenuegarden.com/fall-tomatoes-vegetable-gardening/

http://www.livescience.com/53853-tomato-plant-named-for-martian-botanist.html

https://njaes.rutgers.edu/tomato-varieties/

http://www.amishlandseeds.com/russian_tomatoes.htm

A Trip to Ukraine

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I have wanted to write a post about my visit to Ukraine, but have been uncertain where to begin or how to frame it.  I am afraid that I will interpret something wrong.  Even now, I am not sure what to write.  When I told fellow travelers that I had been to Ukraine, I was often met with a reaction that it is unsafe to travel there.  Many travelers feel that they would avoid going there and expressed fear of the country’s situation.  So, I thought I would write about my short experience there and my perceptions of the country (as well as some lessons learned.).

Why Ukraine?

I was attracted to Ukraine because I wanted to visit Chernobyl and because I was planning to go to Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Finland, and Sweden with BusAbout.  I wanted to go to a country near these countries as I was already planning on going to the region.  As such, I chose Ukraine and Belarus, as I have never been to these countries and they were near my bus tour with Bus About.  I was also interested in Ukraine out of a general interest in communist history and Slavic cultures.  With that said, I considered safety issues and figured that because fighting in the country has been in eastern regions of Donetsk and Luhansk that it was probably relatively safe to travel to Kiev.  This assumption was based on the notion that fighting had not spread beyond these regions over the course of a year (since Crimea was annexed).  Furthermore, the State Department’s website has not posted any travel warnings for regions outside of those near the border with Russia (at the time of my booking).  Finally, other travelers to Ukraine have not reported war specific issues while travelling in western Ukraine.  The main complaint of other travelers (at least in a survey of blogs) are problems with crime, corruption, or police.

The situation:

It is hard to make complete sense out of the conflict and really, I only dimly understand it.  The conflict regions have Russians and Russian speaking Ukrainians, some of whom want to break away from Ukraine.  Russia has supported separatist rebels, supplying them with weapons and troops.  The region has experienced de-industrialization since the collapse of the Soviet Union, which has created Soviet nostalgia among some of the populace.  This has been expressed through a pro-Russian and an anti-European Union orientation.  The economic troubles are important to note, as the conflict began after the EuroMaidan protests which..if I understand them correctly were basically protests regarding an acceptance of a Russian bailout versus an EU bailout (again a Russian versus EU orientation), but also some issues of corruption.  The ultra-nationalist, anti-Russian tone of the protests were worrisome to the Russian speaking easterners.  Despite real economic, cultural, and historical concerns of people of this region, the conflict is fueled by Russian support.  There are various narratives and debates about the conflict (such as is Russia imperialist? and are there two Ukraines?).  I am afraid that I only have a basic understanding of the situation.

Safety and prejudice:

Although 7,000 people have been killed in eastern Ukraine, I did not feel particularly unsafe during my visit.  Nevertheless, when I planned the trip I made sure that I only stayed a few days and only in Kiev in case the situation changed.  Really, when I arrived I was more worried about tales of corruption and crime.  There were various warnings about being taken advantage of by taxis or hassled by police. Of course, this can happen in many countries.  Because my flight was changed at the last moment, I arrived in Kiev at 1am.  This was a terrible start to the trip because I couldn’t use the Skybus or the Metro (as the metro closes after midnight).  Thus, I was forced to take a taxi.  There was a driver by a kiosk that said “taxi” or ground transport, so when he offered me a ride I assumed he was a legitimate driver.  I agreed upon a price (which was expensive at 25 euros, but not beyond the averages that other travelers reported).  However, when he brought me to his car, he was not a licensed taxi driver with a marked vehicle.  I was quite paranoid from the reports of other travelers, but it was late and I took the risk.  All the while, I imagined all the terrible things that could happen.  I was so worked up about it, that I wouldn’t let him handle my bags and would not get out of the cab until I was 100% certain it was the hotel.  Even then, I half expected him to change the price.  Thankfully, I arrived at the hotel without incident.  Even then, I expected the hotel to rip me off.  The polite staff informed me that although I had prepaid I needed to pay a local tax.  I was sure it was a scam.  No, only my paranoia.  The tax was less than a dollar.  When I went to my room, I decided to relax and stop assuming that everyone was out to get me.  Reading travel blogs had made me paranoid and prejudiced.  Thus, a major lesson that I learned on the trip was not to let concerns for safety prejudice me against the people of the country.  Honestly, everyone that I interacted with was polite, helpful, and generally nice.  There is a stereotype that eastern European service industry workers are rude (that is, they have not yet conformed to the level of emotion work that their western counterparts do…i.e. service with a smile, the customer is always right, and many other dehumanizing acts of emotional and mental control.)  For better or worse, this was not my experience.

The experience:

My hotel was Hotel Ukraine, a monstrous building overlooking Maidan Square.  I had a room on the 8th floor which over looked of the square.  I liked the hotel.  It was close to many sites and only cost $25 a night.  Really, many things were very inexpensive.  The wonderful museums that I visited were each under a dollar for admission.  In this sense, Ukraine is an inexpensive place to visit for an American.  As nice as this is for a budget minded traveler, it is awful for Ukrainians (as this would signify a decline in standards of living, with more expensive imports and a decline in wages).  The currency was devaluated 40% in 2008 and was devalued again in 2014 to meet IMF requirements (for a floating currency?).  As such, a dollar is worth about 22 hryvnia.  I exchanged $20 and this lasted three days (with some currency leftover).  Granted, I purchased food from a grocery store and my main expenses were metro rides and museum admissions.

Anyway, after some rest at my hotel, I set out to explore Kiev.  Once again, I generally felt very safe.  There were many soldiers out and about, as well as police.  I also observed many Ukrainian flags along with makeshift memorials to the dead.  These memorials were set up along the roads near Maidan Square and consisted of candles, flowers, and photographs.  The flags, memorials, and movement of soldiers were the main indications that the country was involved in war.  Another indication was a lack of tourists.  I went to several tourist sites, such as the Cave Monastery, St. Sophia, a war museum, a famine monument, etc.  There were Ukrainian tourists at these sites, but I did not note foreign tourists.  Even on the metro, I never heard English or saw backpackers.  While I am sure there were some tourists in Kiev, I do not recall hearing or seeing them.  And, even though I was certainly not as fashionable or thin as Ukrainian women, I did not perceive that I was always pegged as a tourist either.  For example, I have found that tourists are often communicated to in English first.  This was not always the case.  I was even asked by a woman (in Ukrainian) which metro stop we were at.  I any event, although I often felt alone as a foreign tourist, I didn’t feel that I particularly stood out (that is I wasn’t harassed or bothered by street vendors or people selling things any more than anyone else).

Language was a slight problem.  I studied Russian for two years but I am pretty rusty.  Nevertheless, I could sometimes figure out signs or what people were saying to me (in Ukrainian).  However, I felt like I had to pretend not to understand or that I could not reply in Russian.  I was afraid that if I used any Russian it might be offensive or a sensitive issue.  Ukrainian is not the same as Russian and I don’t speak any Ukrainian.  So, while some words are the same or similar, there are obviously many words that are different.  The language issue was not that big of a deal, but a minor challenge.  It made me feel mute, as I might know how to respond in Russian, but I was afraid to speak.  Now, my Russian skills are terrible anyway.  I am not sure how much help it would have been.  It was certainly better than knowing nothing.  Of course, Ukrainian uses a few different Cyrillic letters.  Nevertheless, it was a bit of a conundrum.  For the most part, young people spoke English.  The non-English speakers I encountered tended to be older women working at museums or as cashiers.  As a travel tip to anyone considering going to Ukraine, a Ukrainian phrase book would have been helpful!

Despite warnings of crime and trouble with police, I did not encounter these problems.  Because of a lack of tourists, there were not as many crowds as many popular tourist destinations.  As such, there was always enough space around me and never a sense that there were pickpockets lurking about.  And while tourists to Russia have sometimes complained of being stopped by police and made to show their passports, I feel that I was mostly ignored by police.

The only time that I felt uncertain about safety was when there was a large military parade on August 22nd.  I saw hundreds of soldiers and heard loud patriotic music.  There were crowds of people and some demonstrations of military equipment.  I was baffled by the scene.  I was uncertain if the scene meant that there was a ramping up of the war or if it was some sort of memorial for the people who died earlier in the week.  I threaded through the crowd, took some photos, and wandered off to my hotel.  The parade or gathering lasted for several hours.  I found out later (by looking it up on the internet at my hotel) that Independence Day is on August 24th, so the parade was likely related to this.  This eased my worries.

Once again, I felt safer in Kiev than in places such as Moscow or St. Petersburg.  To contrast, when I visited Moscow in the past, I felt that the city was huge.  I felt that the spread of the city to the size of the buildings are all designed to make a person feel small.  There were crowds at tourist sites, along with beggars.  Kiev, in contrast, felt smaller and less crowded.  It felt less busy.  At night, the city was darker and it seemed that fewer people were out.  The roads were mostly empty.  I am sure there is night life, but no one seemed to be lingering out that long.  In fact, that was my first impression of the country.  When I arrived at 1 am, I was surprised how dark the city was.  Even Maidan square was dark.  It seemed that everyone went to sleep early.

Russia is my frame of reference for Eastern Europe.  I travelled there twice in college for a summer Russian program.  So, whenever I travel to an eastern European country, I can’t help but compare it to Russia.  With that said, there are of course some similarities owing to some shared history, religion, and culture.  Kiev gave the impression of ancientness.  Of course, it has been settled since at least the 5th century, so it is old!  The cave monastery that I visited dated back to 1077.  Parts of St. Sophia also date back to the 11th century.  Anyone with an interest in Eastern Orthodox religion would be quite enthralled by the city.  Unfortunately, as an atheist, I couldn’t fully appreciate it all.  I felt awkward and out of place at sites where people were crying in awe and reverence.  I also did not pack the appropriate clothes for these visits.  As a word of advice, pack a long skirt and shawl if you wish to visit these places.  I did not.  But, even if I had, the temperature was about 95 degrees, so I probably wouldn’t have overdressed anyway.

Kiev also gave the impression of tragedy, though this may have more to do with my interests than the city itself.  For instance, I made a point of visiting Babi Yar twice.  However, other monuments to human loss are the famine monument, Holodomor museum, and Chernobyl museum.  There are also day trips to Chernobyl itself (which can be read about in my previous post).

Conclusion:

I enjoyed my short visit to Kiev and don’t regret going.  It was interesting to be in the country.  It was a unique opportunity to witness how the conflict there impacts people.  There is an impression that despite the flags, patriotism, movement of soldiers, and memorials, people continue to live as normal (visiting museums, shopping, eating, socializing).  Nevertheless, my taxi driver on the way back to Boryspil airport said that he hadn’t seen his family for a year because they live in the conflict areas.  In the end, I am left wondering what it means to come and go.  There are things that I will never really understand.  In many ways, I am always that person standing at the monastery.  Everyone is crying in awe and reverence.  I don’t feel the same and can’t feel the same.  I come and go as an outsider to things I don’t and can’t understand.

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My Chernobyl Reaction

The highlight of my recent trip to Europe was a visit to Chernobyl.  I was attracted by the idea of going there out of an interest in history, science, and tragedy.  The idea of entering an “exclusion zone” something so dangerous and exclusive also had a certain appeal.  Before going, I did my best to research the safety and weigh the risks of radiation exposure.  The information on this matter is variable.  However, my impression is that scientific measures of radiation at the sites are variable.  Thus, exposure can be variable.  While some areas, such as the amusement park in Pripyat may average 5 microsieverts of radiation per hour, a particular patch of moss or an individual tree may register as more.  Any amount of radiation increases cancer risks, but since the average exposure (considering that particularly irradiated parts of the environment are avoided) was less than an international flight, I figured it was safe enough to venture there for a day trip.  As such, the journey began with a two hour van ride to Kiev.  Outside of the city, the landscape becomes a collection of villages.  Mismatched homes with corrugated metal roofs are squeezed close to each other, set amidst fields of hay, sunflowers, and wheat.  These villages and fields punctuate an otherwise forested environment of tall pines and thick birches.  This forest was thick and ancient looking.  The villages themselves seemed frozen in time, with little economy but farms and perhaps timber.  Yet, they were connected to Kiev by bus stations.

As we neared Chernobyl, the sense that things were frozen in time only deepened. (I traveled to Chernobyl through Solo East as a day trip.)  At the 30 km exclusion zone, we were met by a military check point. The soldiers at the check point checked the tours paperwork and our passports, then we were allowed to continue.  Actually, about 6,000 people work within the exclusion zone.  One elderly woman lives within the exclusion zone, cut off from electricity, buses, and society-though the rest of the workers commute or stay at a hotel in Chernobyl.  With that said, the exclusion zone isn’t exactly a ghost town as soldiers continue to work there.  The reactors that did not melt down continued to operate through the 1990s with the last one closing in 2006.  In any event, we continued towards the 10 km exclusion zone, making a stop at a military base once used for missile detection and an abandoned kindergarten.  There was a second check point at the 10 km exclusion zone, where once again paperwork was checked.  I looked for signs of a sickened earth, but aside from the abandoned and rusted remnants of humanity, the forests seemed healthy and thick.  There was a tranquility as schools, bus stops, and a base slowly disappeared into a voracious forest.  The forest gave way to a field.  The road curved and suddenly I saw lakes (cooling ponds) and several reactors.  A 5th reactor was nearly operational at the time of the disaster and a 6th one was being constructed.  Like everything else, the reactors were frozen in time (or in a state of decay).  Among them was reactor 4, entombed in a silvery gray cement sarcophagus.  This was breath taking.

Tens of thousands of workers were deployed to stop the spread of radiation.  10,000 miners were extracted from all over the Soviet Union, put to work digging a tunnel under reactor 4.  The fear was that molten radioactive material would cause a second explosion as it seeped into the ground (potentially meeting water trapped under the reactor).  Lead was dumped onto the reactor and robots could not withstand the radiation from irradiated graphite rods.  Soldiers had to do the work that robots could not so that the reactor could be sealed.  The sarcophagus had to be built offsite and assembled like a puzzle, fitting together perfectly.  This assembly consisted of 30 min shifts, as any longer would result in deadly doses of radiation.  Thus, the containment of the disaster cost human lives, labor, and health on a scale that is impossible to imagine.  I stood outside of reactor 4, in awe of the horror, labor, and history of containment.  The sarcophagus will soon be replaced.  The next one will have to be replaced in another 100 years.  Like this, humanity will have to attend to containment for generations.   The radiation reading on a Geiger counter was 6 micro Sieverts.  The highest reading during the trip was a nearby forest (the red forest).  The red forest has since been bulldozed and buried (with growth of a new forest).  Still, the new forest registered 16 microsieverts (with only a minute or two of exposure).

Near the reactors were cooling ponds.  The ponds were once used to raise catfish, as these fish could withstand the higher temperature water.  This seemed resourceful.  The fish have since been abandoned and now flourish in the pools. Some are as large as children.

Beyond the reactors and forest was Pripyat.  It was a model town built in the 1970s for reactor workers.  It seemed like a place of hope and relative prosperity, with such luxuries as a super market, swimming pool, stadium, hotel, coffee shop, and tree lined streets.  Trees have overtaken much of the city.  The crumbling remains of the community are hidden in a forest.  A soccer field has turned entirely into a forest.  An amusement park set to open on May Day rusts to ruin.  The city is empty.  The evacuated populace can return once a year.  As a tourist, I was very privileged, as I could pay to spend the day there…given special rights over those who once lived there.  I entered apartments and a school and stepped over cracked sidewalks.  Weather, time, and trees have damaged most of the structures.  The city was liquidated five times (given new pavement, cleaned, radioactive dust removed).  There was an early hope that people could return, but the despite the efforts it is not habitable and likely won’t be for 20,000 years.

Reaction: I love travel that challenges me and makes me think.  Chernobyl raises many questions.  The first is of course the question of nuclear energy.  I think standing in the center of catastrophe you can see very clearly the danger of when something goes amiss.  When things go wrong with nuclear energy- they go very wrong- and for a very long time.  Despite the failings of the Soviet Union in reporting this disaster, great effort went into containing it.  This raises another question.  What should be done when disaster strikes?  The people of Pripyat were not given a choice.  They were lied to and made to leave.  This made the evacuation fairly swift (busing people out in a day or so).  Authoritarian power was used to move people and to have people clean up the mess.  How would the U.S have done things differently?  Would poor and elderly people be left behind?  Would poor people and people of color be made to clean up the mess because of the choiceless choices of capitalism?  Would there be more transparency and choice?  When terrible things happen, how can governments act quickly and efficiently without coercion?  Then there is the question of tourism and myself.  What are the ethics of traveling to such places?  It is a place that is closed to former residents, but not tourists.  I was brought there by curiosity and adventure, certainly hedonistic consumption of experiences.  I find it meaningful and interesting, but how can one visit such a place and still respect as more than just a tourist attraction?  It is hardship and tragedy.  Anyway, more than my other travels this year it raised many important questions.

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