His mausoleum is made of large granite blocks, alternating in patterned hues of dusty rose and charcoal. A spacious, cold, dim tomb houses the glass sarcophagus and 5 guards from the Kremlin Sentry preside over the body. Our procession walks single file along a barrier up to an observation area. Looking down at Lenin's waxy body, I notice his hands. One is clenched and the other is lax.
Ten Minutes later I'm inside the G.U.M., Moscow's largest shopping mall, looking for an ATM. I pass by Burberry's Autumn/Winter 2011 collection, I see the luxury leather goods and fashion of Louis Vuitton, and I hear a Phil Collins song playing somewhere in the distance. As I wait for the machine to count my dyengi I'm aware of duration and development in Russia.
Workers everywhere will rise up and overthrow their capitalist masters. Some argue that you can't stop progress (capitalism, democracy, corporatism) but "progress" isn't solely responsible here. Many reasons lead to the collapse of soviet Russia - the US defying the spread of communism (Korea, Vietnam), China breaking an alliance with the USSR, Perestroika (the Kremlin's attempt to fix a broken economy and modernize), a wasteful bureaucracy, and corruption. The intricate network of economy, regime, and leadership gradually expired within a few decades and now only the granite monuments are proof of it having been.
Lenin and his contrary hands seem to have the heft of all the granite in Russia. What purpose could they still serve in a post communist era? They may be considered a relic for the future concerning the past, they may sustain his cult of personality along with the other countless monuments dedicated to his honor, or maybe there is no purpose, just another attraction no more thrilling than a roller coaster but with greater bragging rites. It only seems fitting to consider the mausoleum a house to the era in which the people living under communism showed collectivism, generosity, and warmheartedness. It's not that these values were born of the era but perhaps they have been amplified from then, well on into the 21st century.
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| St. Basil's and Red Square |
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I stepped off the train very early in the a.m. and drank a large bottle of water. The morning air was wet and without sun. Moscow's weather would remain this way for the next few days. Outside of the PT Revolyutsii metro station, my face in a map and walking in the direction of our hostel, Ken calls my attention to an archway. It's not the archway that is the sight, but what is visible on the other side.
St. Basil's might be Russia's Statue of Liberty or Eiffel Tower. The nine churches that make up the cathedral are rallied into one building on the east end of Red Square. Passing through that archway and into Red Square at 5 in the morning - tired, baggage in hand - reinforced my enthusiasm for this trip and the sights and scenes I now know...
The Peter The Great Monument on the Moscow river is a well deserved monument to a man who pushed Russia into the European realm, but it is unfortunately misshapen. Literally. It conjures up images a Fritz the Cat panel. Voted in the top 10 worst monuments in the world by UNESCO, Moscow "generously" offered it to St. Petersburg. The offer, was graciously declined...
Constantine proclaims to listen to real Russian music, as we speed through the streets of Moscow in his Mercedes. He is kind enough to take us around to see some interesting monuments at 2 in the morning. He takes us up to the trees lined with padlocks of recently married couples and then on to the Children Warning Monument. He drops us back at the hostel shortly after...
Spending an afternoon inside the State Tretyakov Gallery was time well spent. Seeing Russian art through the years beginning with Russian Avaunt Guard and Cenisism and culminating with Contemporary pieces and Soviet commissioned pieces. Stalin instructed artists to emphasize the joys of living in Communism under wise leadership...
We snapped a quick photo at the zero kilometer marker as we started the Trans-Siberian railway from The Yaroslavsky Station. At first the babuska (grandmother) only got part of the team in the frame. There were no problems with a second photo...
Falling asleep on benches in the Kremlin at Nizhey Novograd was well deserved after being up for over 24 hours. When I woke up for a brief moment, an old man had joined me on the same bench for a nap. When I came to later, two babuskas had joined our bench gang...
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| Train Station in Nizhny Novogorad |
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| The Mosque (left) and The Bell Tower built by Ivan the Terrible (right) |
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| Ken Johnson in the shade relaxing on the Volga |
We arrived at dawn to the Church of Spilled Blood in Yekaterinburg. This is were the Russian royal bloodline came to an end when the Bolsheviks murdered Tsar Nicolas II, his wife, their three daughters, and their 14 year old son. The Romanova's have reached the statues of sainthood in the eyes of the local people of this region...
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| The Romonova's burial plots until 1998 when the remains were moved to St. Petersburg |
After Yekaterinburg we started the longest leg of out journey. A 37 hour train ride to Krasnoyarsk. We arrived as tourists looking to climb at Stolby Natural Reserve, but we got much than just a climb or two...
written like a true English major. I look forward to your next post. was there any visible stitch work on Lenin?
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