TOP TO BOTTOM In Tulun with one of the many helpful employees working on the Trans-Siberian Railway. Photo: Louisa Marie Summer A typical morning view in Sheregesh looking back on town amid the slow climb of the rattling two-seat chairlift that brings riders up Mount Zelenaya, one of the four peaks that make up Sheregesh-Kemerovo.The coal mine tower is always visible, even when there’s an inversion. Photo: Louisa Marie Summer Two friendly looking guys dip into flavor country in Sajansk. Smokers aren’t the only ones who take every chance to hop out of the overheated waggons of the Trans-Siberian Railway. Most of the passengers step into the refreshing cold, if only for a moment. Photo: Louisa Marie Summer The food in Sheregresh ranges from upscale westernized meals with strict table service to ramshackle hole-in-the-wall establishments serving local fare. We usually opt for the latter. On our second-to-last evening in Sheregresh we enter a sparsely lit venue and see a man equipped with a hammer, pocketknife and pair of pincers working on a broken latch on the backdoor. We begin to turn around because the whole place looks to be under maintenance, but as we try to leave the owner approaches and beckons us to sit down. With the language barrier in full swing, they simply show us their complete stock of food and drink including the fully frozen inventory of their deep freezer. They seem to be especially proud of the random chunks of meat they’re presenting us, so we let them have their way. While the chef cooks, the makeshift mechanic ditches his work and tries hard to communicate. Immediately he becomes aware that our Russian starts and ends with спасибо (sbasiba, meaning “thanks”), so he gets creative. He shows us his documents, draws on the carpet, lays out signs with cutlery and even pulls off dance moves. He explains the best he can about his times in foreign lands and how he learned about typical perceptions of Russian culture elsewhere in the world. Before he can try to elaborate further, the owner gestures for him to get back to work, so we try to help him to fix the lock on the backdoor. We return to the table as the chef brings out our food with a big gesture and smile to match. It’s a rather simple dish made from a bit of mystery meat, roasted potatoes and other various vegetables, yet its seasoned herbal flavors are aromatic and delicious. We leave full and entertained. Some may refer to Siberia as the “Sleeping Land,” but our experi-ence here has been intriguing and lively. We enjoy a fun final day on the mountain, then gather with our new group of friends for a glad-some farewell. We share stories, drinks, food and laughter like we’ve known each other for years. Our crew decides to leave the locals with a few of our bindingless boards so they’ll be equipped for their own powsurf sessions. It’s a fair trade for the vivid memories we’ve collected in such a short time here, for the genuine hospitality extended to us by strangers in a land that’s so much more than cold, bleak tundra. 060 THE SNOWBOARDER’S JOURNAL
The Snowboarder's Journal The Snowboarder's Journal 19.1: Page 60
