Izhevsk
Transportation
Typical Transportation in Izhevsk
December 1, 2003
The first segment of my trip into town is by bus to the center, which is the transportation
hub affectionately called Red Square. From here I catch a tram along Karl Marx Street,
on which I work. On this short trek from Red Square to my school, there are a few
very impressive buildings including a couple old churches. Just before reaching
the school the tram passes a pond a short distance to the west. This short path
on the tram is the most exciting part of the commute, the entire bus ride goes through
a jungle of Soviet-age block apartments, beginning with my apartment.
From school I got on my tram, walked past a big flower market… which I find odd
in the middle of winter, a couple kiosks selling beer, a few regulars drinking on
the streets beside them and hopped on my bus. This bus, like the last couple, had
a lot of troubles getting into gear and it sounded horrible, rolled backwards at
each bus stop and often came to abrupt stops causing everyone to nearly fall. Like
most vehicles, it seems the bus driver’s major focus is on avoiding potholes as
opposed to minor issues like safety or oncoming traffic.
December 2, 2003
This city is still very much in love with communism and it shows everywhere in the
city; the main streets are Soviet Street, Union Street (on which I live), Karl Marx
Street, Lenin Street, and one of the few exceptions Pushkin Street.
Like much of the city, the buses and cars are covered in mud, it’s impossible to
see out the window of the bus I took today.
Sidewalks aren’t shoveled and roads aren’t plowed. When I try to get on the bus
everyone pushes and shoves their way on in order to get a seat, there is no such
thing as a line, but instead a mass or hoard. I actually got a seat today, but was
told “child move this grandmother should sit” so I moved; neither the woman who
asked nor the grandmother thanked me or even acknowledged me. It seems my moving
wasn’t an act of kindness, rather it was my duty.
No one talks on the bus or even makes eye contact except when showing their bus
pass or paying the conductor. My bus ride home today seemed to be a typical cross
section of this city as I know it (and that isn’t well), as if the bus is a time
machine that took me back to the 1980’s. I found an open seat next to a passed out
drunk, which I interpreted as a front row seat in this imaginary time warp show.
Mullets are popular, many people wear dark, tapered blue jeans, and tennis shoes
don’t exist, not one pair. In my down jacket I stick out, as if I really were from
the future not unlike Marty McFly wearing a “life preserving” in Back to the Future.
December 5, 2003
It was late when we left; I made my way to the bus station in the center, more of
an outdoor bar than a street at this time on a Friday night. Drinking in the streets
is legal and very common, I don’t think there’s been a day I haven’t seen at least
one person drinking in public. Not further than a block from here school children
are walking at night, yet the streets are very safe and I haven’t yet felt threatened
although I’m in the center every night after dark by myself… plus I obviously stick
out as an American with a bright blue down jacket, yet still no threat.
Drinking is common in the center and being drunk by 7:00 is not rare. On Wednesday
there was a drunk guy talking to me on the bus at no later than 8:00pm; he then
started singing and falling, it was an interesting bus ride. I tried to ignore him
so stared at pictures of the scantily clad women, which cover the interior of the
bus and many of the city's billboards.
December 7, 2003
On the way home there were a number of people drinking in the streets and on the
bus, but it didn’t seem to faze me. It only struck me when a man had a bottle in
one hand and his daughter’s hand in the other as they crossed the street, she was
about five.
During the week the buses are silent; no one talks or makes eye contact, nothing.
Saturday night the bus was loud and cheerful. During the week drinking begins around
4:00 or 5:00 and ends early, but yesterday it didn’t end until well after I had
returned home and that was close to midnight.
Today after visiting Johnny, he insisted I get a ride home from his driver, but
I had all day free so spend some time walking around the center before taking the
bus home. I began my trek through the snow banks they call sidewalks. It snowed
a lot yesterday, but there is no such thing as “snow removal” here. I haven’t seen
a single plow or anyone shovel; eventually the snow just compacts into ice, including
the steps into buildings and my apartment.
My uneventful wander ended in the center at my bus stop. Although dirty, the transportation
here is excellent; the buses come every four or five minutes and today I only had
to wait about two minutes. At the worst of times I have to wait ten minutes, but
that’s only during off hours. All the transportation looks and feels very Soviet:
big, ugly, dirty, uniform, and working, although never well.
I entered the middle of three doors on the bus (the front door never opens) and
the conductor asked for my pass or money (it costs 4 rubles), typically the bus
is so packed it takes the conductor three or four stops to get from one side of
the bus to the other, but on a Sunday afternoon she just glanced at me and I flashed
my pass, she nodded and moved on to the only other couple who got on.
Despite being somewhat empty the bus is full of snow and slush, something that is
almost synonymous with public transportation in Izhevsk. Today I can see the floor,
but until times like these one won’t even know color the floor is, only seeing dirty
water flowing back and forth on turns; the doors are the worst, where the slush
is two or three inches thick.
On a good day, but not today I can look out the window at the other traffic; the
cars are often covered with dirt and you typically can’t tell the color of them.
Like in the US, traffic drives on the right side of the road, but cars are from
everywhere so sometimes the driver is on the right and sometimes the left, typically
the cars are Russian made so the driver sits on the left, but in this country, expect
nothing.
Most of the buses including this one are just typical old buses and there seems
to be a code of silence on the buses, unless you’re drunk, in which case its common
practice to make a fool out of yourself. Most passengers opt to stare out the windows
aimlessly even if the dirt blocks their view beyond the window.
I tend to be among the crowd staring out the window, but today I just stared at
the bus itself. Two bars on the ceiling run the length of the bus for balance and
most seats have bars on the back for anyone standing. Opposite me sits the conductor,
who has an assigned seat, however on most days she won’t have an opportunity to
sit. Today is an exception and with no traffic or people we got to Cyusnaya Street
(Union Street) in no time. The bus slowed as its doors opened, I jumped out and
before the bus ever came to a full stop as the bus continued on.
Streets and Sidewalks in Izhevsk
December 9, 2003
Wow, the streets look good… they do plow the streets (you can actually see the street
in a couple spots) but very rarely; only at night and once a week I'm told.
Shoveling is done by the company, store, or apartment of the adjacent sidewalk so
it’s done, but only by some.
My bus driver today was chain smoking the entire trip and so we were engulfed in
a cloud of cancer.
December 12, 2003
The bus was empty and silent, every person dressed the same and me just the opposite.
I thought about blending in, but I would have to purchase an entirely new wardrobe
and that much shopping is worse than the stares I receive constantly.
The dress here is predictable, everyone on this bus has black or brown shoes; the
women’s shoes are very pointy, one woman across from me has shoes with a curl pointing
towards the sky on the front like elf shoes. All the men’s shoes are square toed,
typically one piece of leather on the top and as little stitching as possible, the
shoes within my sight are all secured by a buckle, none have shoelaces. People here
are extremely particular about their shoes, there are shoe shops everywhere and
if your shoe only nudges up against anyone else's shoe on the bus they glare
at you as if you had taken their only child.
Every pair of pants is dark; I have yet to see otherwise except at clubs where some
girls wear skin-tight, nearly transparent pink or white pants. These girls are rich
I’m told and for a 200 ruble cover for the clubs you’d have to be. Jeans are popular,
but only tapered jeans, usually very dark; girls at times also wear the worn-look-jeans.
Coats are very ornate and usually fur, especially for women; some people have down
or polyester coats, but it’s rare. Shirts vary from t-shirts, long sleeve t-shirts,
sweaters, etc. for guys and typically dressier shirts for girls, but nothing unusual
from the US. Not many people have glasses, I don’t know if that’s because contacts
are popular, if the gene pool favors the eyes, or if the people can’t afford glasses.
I don’t believe the guy near me has washed his hair in months. I have yet to find
or comprehend the irony of a guy who does anything with his hair, while most girls
make sure it looks good with their hats… and spend hours doing it. Everyone here
looks older than their age and their dress only encourages that. Even in school,
13 and 14 year old girls wear tight pants and shirts showing their bellies. It’s
very common and obviously accepted in school... showing off their bodies I mean.
December 13, 2003
I went with Seth via tram when a man overheard us speaking English so introduced
himself. I rarely speak English in public, but I was approached twice this week
while talking to Seth, both male Russians between the ages of 30 or 40 and both
just fascinated that we are living in Izhevsk; their excitement of meeting an American
and Brit was astonishing and quite flattering. For the most part, I have been very
well received, the generosity and hospitality shown me is incredible, but only by
the younger generation, under 25 and sporadically with individuals reaching the
ages of 30 or 40. Unfortunately, beyond that with each additional year seems to
come more resentment, bitterness, and hatred towards Americans (other than Tatiana
and other rare exceptions); I see a bitter Russia dying and a great future ahead.
December 16, 2003
Billboards are going up advertising political candidates for the upcoming elections.
I got off and headed to the museum, but found some great entertainment on the way.
There was an accident (no injuries), but the cars were left in the middle of the
intersection although it was only a fender bender. The road cops, being the geniuses
that they are, called in for backup so they had three cars with about six cops.
Two were trying to measure the distance of the car from the start of the intersection
with a tape measure, however the tape measure was only about ten feet long and the
car about 40-50 feet into the intersection. The two men held it, visually marked
the spot then moved and continued until they reached the car, very inaccurate and
quite funny. As this was going on, the rest of the cops were just talking to each
other and smoking in the middle of the intersection as cars drove around them like
nothing happened.
I found myself in a delusional tranquility on the trip home due to my drug of choice:
pizza without mayo posing as cheese. The bus was packed… I wasn’t holding on to
anything and yet had no problem standing up because it was so full, it was an extreme
challenge closing the door at each stop, but I cared little… I was already in heaven.
December 17, 2003
On the way home everyone was drinking on the bus and in the streets; earlier today
at 4:00 the guy next to me was drinking and another guy not far away was so drunk
I could smell him from about five feet. I got off at my stop and saw another man
passed out on the bench. It’s sad; I try to ask myself what I would do if I was
in their situation.
December 19, 2003
Being near the center the trams were accessible. The trams only run on the main
streets in the downtown area as they stretch outwards quite a ways. The trams divide
the two-way traffic and run on tracks with a wire overhead.
We got on the first of two connected tram cars and found two guys playing the guitar
and singing. Our driver honked and the lights on the tram went out, that’s one mighty
powerful horn. The next stop two drunks got on and were pushing and shoving each
other, occasionally yelling, a couple times the one guy got up and grabbed the other
guy, but nothing too exciting.
After getting off the tram the entertainment truly began. A driver was turning right
from Karl Marx Street to Red Street as a guy was crossing the road. The driver honked
and the guy crossing got upset so the driver got out and they started punching each
other. Soon another car pulled up and began honking at which point both of the men
fighting kind of looked at him, stopped and went on their ways. It was as if they
fought just to do something, when the car honked they just dropped it and went their
ways.
December 21, 2003
Yesterday we went to a camp outside of town. The bus station was very busy, the
line was long, the floors were muddy and there were cab drivers trying to get anyone
to take their taxis to anywhere and everywhere. We negotiated with some, but declined.
Kolya bought the tickets for everyone (himself, Seth, Alexei, Vatalya, and me).
After buying the tickets we went to the other half of the building, “the relaxing
hall” to wait, here we bought chocolate and snacks.
As travelers came and went the floor got wetter and muddier, a few stray dogs found
their way in too. Just before we left, Anya, Alcy, and Lillian arrived and bought
tickets. At 1:25 we went outside to platform number 6 under the name Zavyalvo. Before
the bus even arrived we were repeatedly yelled at by nearly everyone, two or three
were just screaming at us, telling us that we can’t have seats on the bus and we
had to wait to enter… and so we waited.
December 22, 2003
I started my day on the bus into town for school. There are only a few divided streets
in the city, but in between them there are snow fences, which always have some openings
for pedestrians. There is also an electronic “clock” hanging from one of the light
posts and it has four digits that are constantly changing every four or five seconds,
they make no sense to me.
December 24, 2003
Snow removal is done by dump trucks and front-loaders every other week: they go
around the city and pick the snow up off the streets and into the dump trucks, where
it goes and where it stops I’ll never know.
While walking around Leninsky District I found the coolest gas station, it was a
tanker truck that was hooked up to two pumps and the gas just came straight from
the tanker into your car. Beside the tanker truck stood a little shack where you
would pay. I’ve also noticed that all gas stations have employees that stand guard
at the tanks so no one steals.
I find it treacherous trying to walk around this city. The sidewalks are in poor
shape, you can’t walk at all, I slipped and fell hard today, my head still hurts,
but my arm is getting better. I fell on an ice slick, but with a light snow it was
covered and next thing I knew I was on my back.
After finally brushing myself off, I headed over to “Golden Guild” and as I walked
in they closed the door on me and shouted. In my hazy state I didn't really
pay attention so I said ok, and left. After leaving the words sunk in… they refused
to let me in with my coat since it was covered in snow. Oh well, it was too late.
I went back out into the snow and just enjoyed seeing all of the cars broke down.
People here tend to stop their car or truck anywhere if something’s wrong: right
side, left side, close to an intersection, in front of a bus stop, anywhere except
an intersection itself and just get out and start looking at their car. Today was
the worst due to the weather, I think about ¼ of the cars are broke down on the
sides of the road and the police are everywhere because of that and accidents.
Speaking of police, I have a real love/hate relationship with them here. I fear
them more than feel they are keeping me safe, but I rarely see them. The road police
have a terrible reputation even among the locals, who see them as corrupt and untrustworthy.
The other branch, the regular police are seen as somewhat honest, but I try to avoid
both. The police strut around in their blue camouflage uniforms and black jackets,
both of which say Militsiya on them. Their cars are Russian made and are painted
similar to US police cars although they are about half the size. They rarely seem
to do much, but they have the power to stop and search anyone; my friend’s brother
was robbed by cops in Moscow.
December 30, 2003
Once back in Izhevsk I headed towards the bus station and saw another fight; one
guy got beat up real bad as some just stopped and watched, while others just passed
by like nothing was happening, it was free entertainment, yet such a powerful symbol
of the sadness in this country.