Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
more than twelve months? The unemployed? The elderly without family, and other
disadvantaged people? Life must have been incredibly tough.
One day we made a special appearance at the local school. There was a chorus
of gasps as we entered the classroom, before the children went supremely quiet.
We were the first Westerners many had seen. With the knee-high felt boots and
rainbow-coloured stripy thermals under our jackets we probably looked just as
weird as they had expected.
The sense of calm didn't last long. A group of about thirty students from another
class rushed in and mobbed us with questions, and held out notepads for auto-
graphs. 'Please give me something for memory, please something for memory!'
they begged.
When we left the school we were followed by a hoard of children running for
more autographs. After signing a few, we realised there was nothing for it but to
run back to Baba Galya's. Beyond the hype of the visit it was inspiring to see, as
Chris put it, 'A little light blink on in their eyes as if they were thinking, Well if
they are doing it maybe I could do something like that, too.'
The following day it became apparent that we had become a little too famous.
We were paid a visit by a police sergeant. We hadn't registered our passports with
the local administration and he seemed to think that we were spies. He demanded
to flick through our diaries even though he couldn't understand a word of English,
let alone our scrawl. When he left the house Baba Galya said, 'Don't worry, he is
just a bit of a fool.'
The next day, however, we were required to visit the police and register our
visas and passports. The sergeant seemed a little frustrated that he no longer had
the authority to deal with every foreigner as a suspect for espionage.
'You know, boys, during the USSR this would have been illegal! You couldn't
have been here freely!' he exclaimed. When asked what we had been spying on, I
piped up that we were investigating the ingredients of Baba Galya's pancakes and
the way a
banya
worked. The whole event was a scene of great amusement for our
hosts and friends.
The last days reached fever pitch levels of celebrations and visits. We barely had
a minute to ourselves, and if we did it had to be planned according to Tatyana's
gruelling schedule. Much to our embarrassment, Lena and Tatyana decided to
handwash our clothes, including our filthy socks and thermals. The job must have
been awful, but they simply refused to take no for an answer. Baba Galya stitched
up the holes in our clothing and gave us each a new pair of socks. All three got up
