Krasno-who? Krasno-what? Krasnoyarsk! TJM-VKO-KJA, 4 - 5 Nov 2011

Friday the 4^th was a difficult day, because of course over the last three weeks we had all become da bestest friends in da whole wide world. But seriously, it always sucks saying good-bye to people you were just starting to really know (or starting to annoy, whichever is the stronger of the two).  Most of us shared parting beers at the sports center café, reminiscing of “old” times, or something like that.

It was hard to leave everybody and get to packing, but I hadn’t really started at all, and the way my clothes were strewn about, it seemed as if I had way more stuff than I had started with. That actually was true, because I had acquired a work laptop and its corresponding backpack. I decided that it was time to get rid of my old laptop, my dear, red Dell Inspiron 1520, whose operating system had been reinstalled on multiple occasions, and whose nearly every part had been replaced at one point or another. I had been gradually backing up the entirety of its contents to my external hard drive, just in case I really went through with its disposal. And I did. It kind of felt good. I’ll buy a tablet the next time I’m in the US, so I have something much more portable. I’ll be that guy with the laptop, tablet, AND Kindle. Sweet, huh? I guess the tablet kind of renders the Kindle useless, but the Kindle’s even more compact, so it may still be useful. I wouldn’t even bother with the tablet if it weren’t that I’m quite limited in my use of the work laptop for personal stuff. It doesn’t even have a webcam for Skyping. And I had expected to at least be able to Skype while abroad. Hence, I shall be tabletizing (if it’s not a word, it should be) in the near future.

I stayed up the whole night in order to pack. And by whole night, I mean until 5 am, when Jeff, Andrey, and I had to catch the bus to the airport. Andrey was only with us on the leg to Moscow, and then he was going off to his own location. Yes, you read correctly folks. Despite Tyumen being pretty much in the middle between Krasnoyarsk and Moscow, we had to fly to Moscow to catch a flight to Krasnoyarsk. And, I came to the realization that Moscow had a third apart: along with Sheremetyevo and Domodedovo, there is also Vnukovo, the hub of UTAir. UTAir is, for all intents and purposes, Russia’s version of Southwest. It is the budget airline.

The good part about Russian airlines is that they still serve meals on domestic flights. The bad part about this is having to deal with a big full food tray in front of you if you want to get anything else done. I guess it’s a small price to pay for nourishment. But seriously, the domestic meals might even be bigger than the meals on international flights of US-based carriers. Jealous yet?

The Tyumen airport’s main terminal was pretty crowded, it seemed. Like in Moscow, we had to go through a metal detector and x-ray just to enter the building. There were only three ticket lines working, but each one was designated for a specific flight. In order to pack as compactly as possible, I was wearing my slightly-too-tight winter boots and my ski jacket, which, coupled with the 50 pound duffle, the backpacking pack, and the laptop bag, and the intense heating of the terminal, made me overwhelmingly uncomfortable. It’s great that the Russian’s buildings are heated well and all, but they really don’t need to overdo it so much. It’s been true every place I’ve gone so far. I mean, once we walk inside from the cold, we have to immediately shed all our layers in order to not overheat. Sometimes, I just need wear some stuff so I don’t have to carry it. I then decided that I’m just going to have to suck it up and find a way for my body to stop heating up so much (destroy my metabolism?) and with that I will become a true Russian (-like) man. I’ve learned that the Russians’ bodies aren’t necessarily better able to withstand the cold, they’re just really good at wearing lots of warm clothes. Even earlier in my time in Tyumen, when I didn’t find it cold enough to warrant a hat, gloves, and big jacket, the Russians were already bundled up. They looked at me like I was crazy, but I didn't find it that bad. I also kind of wanted to condition my body a bit for what’s ahead. I might have to endure temperatures as low as -60°F when I go to my rig site.

So, after going through security, it turned out that the extent of the concourse was just a couple rooms. The lone bathroom was a little unisex single in the corner. Everybody exited through the same door to buses when their flight was called. People aren’t very polite about waiting in line here, either, so you always have to stroll up assertively and slightly aggressively to make sure you don’t get passed by about ten people in two seconds. So I squeezed in as the last person on the bus, and despite being the first one off the bus, I was quickly overtaken and ended up being at least the 20^th person to board the plane.  

The flight to Moscow was a nice two hour bit and the plane seemed somewhat roomy, despite being completely full. All was well, getting to Vnukovo. I expected Moscow’s third airport to be small and cramped or at least annoying in some way, but it was actually quite modern and spacious, and its only drawback was that everything was a depressing gray or black. It also turns out that when making a connection—even if it’s domestic—you once again have to go through security. They divide departure and arrival portions into two separate levels of the terminal. We said our good-byes to Andrey and headed through security for the third time that day.

I was starting to get sleepy from having not slept last night and I was starting to feel sick, so I was quick to pass out once we got on the plane. This plane was a bit more cramped than the last one, and the air conditioners above the seats spewed warmed air, which made it extra miserable. I can’t remember a flight that I had felt worse during, and it shouldn’t have been that way. But oh well, I blame the “sausages” from our breakfast meal on the previous flight.

After a difficult four hours, we landed in Krasnoyarsk, which is thankfully surrounded by rolling hills and some small mountains. I was getting depressed by the plains of Tyumen. We had an identical deplaning to Tyumen, with the same kind of bus and the same short ride along the tarmac to a small receiving terminal with one baggage claim room where they checked everyone’s luggage tag receipts against their tags for matches. Our taxi driver was waiting for us (I must note that I have yet to make an on-time arrival in Russia). We walked out into the Krasnoyarsk Saturday evening air, and it was above freezing. I had expected colder weather. When we left Moscow the pilot reported the temperature at our destination as below freezing. I don’t really like slushy puddles.

I was temporarily taken aback when the taxi driver got into the car on the right side. As it turns out, there’s a significant number of cars in Krasnoyarsk that are configured with the steering wheel on the right, despite driving on the right side of the road. As long as they still follow the driving-on-the-right-side rules, I guess I’m fine with it. I wonder if it’s because this far east they just get a lot of their cars directly from Japan, with their typical-for-island-nations-for-some-reason “wrong” side driving configurations. Hmmmm, I’ll see if I can look that up later.

We first had to stop by the office to get our keys to the company apartment we get to crash in before we head to the rig site. The office is in a 30-story office building. Not too shabby. It took the security awhile to figure out what we were there for, but luckily our manager just happened to still be working at 9 PM on a Saturday night, before heading out on vacation (People take big vacations in this job, because it’s so time and energy demanding. See “9 PM on a Saturday night.”). We finally got our keys and were whisked off to our apartment. After navigating narrow alleyway/parking lot/driveway/street things among the blocks of stereotypical “communist-style” apartment buildings, we came upon our building. I wasn’t sure exactly how we ended up there or if I was going to be able to find my way around later, with all these apartment buildings that looked the same, but I was just glad to be at a place where I could sleep. The apartment is nothing special, but hey we’re International Mobile employees who live out of suitcases. Who are we to expect luxury? At least I’ve got a place to sleep.

We did a short exploration and found a shopping center right across the street from our block. It had a grocery store and of course we had to buy some water and beer. It is nearly impossible to find multi-packs of regular, noncarbonated water. What is it with sparkling water this side of the pond? I swear, because I chug so much water all the time, this sparkling stuff has just been super abrasive on my throat. I did get some orange juice, which I knew had to be good because it's called "Yes!"

Obviously, "da" means "yes." Also worth of note, the word for "orange" is "apelcini." Darn false cognates! 

We also came across the original Czech Budweiser brand, which had a trademark dispute with Anheuser-Busch back in the early 20th Century and forced the American Budweiser to be labeled and marketed as just "Bud" in Europe. 

Budweiser Budvar

I got excited, because in and around all these apartment complexes are a bunch of playgrounds—the eastern European kind I had hoped for with lots of jungle gym and bar apparatuses—which give me somewhere new and exciting to work out. The cold also adds another fun element. I was most excited about the rings.

Rings in the center. Also a funny shaped thing on the right for  awkward pull-ups.

I can practice more gymnast style exercises, getting a variation from my normal pull-ups, push-ups, and dips routine. Time to get pumped!

More pullup areas...

Not for workouts, but I just thought this slide was worthy of note. The snow ruins the affect, but the slide goes directly to the pavement. Must instill butts of steel in the kids!!