WBW: Lost & Found in Kursk

Another Way Back When entry, because I feel like sharing. Still utilizing the scheduled post method as the previous two entries. While you're reading this I might be studying for my final paper, which is Surgery, after watching Euro 2008 finals between Germany and Spain (update: Spain won!).

Anyway, today's WBW episode will once again take us way back when I was still a first year. A fresh first year in fact, for it took place during autumn season of 2002. My second month there in Kursk. Masih kanak-kanak ribena lagi.... I remembered it was when night approached faster than usual and that I was fasting that day, so probably it was during the fasting month of Ramadhan as well.

It was the first time I got lost.


That day, the teachers reminded us in class to have a pair of secondary shoes ready for the approaching winter. The journey from our hostel to class for sure will make our shoes dirty and hence we are required to change them before entering the class to ensure the class/department's cleanliness. Anyone who does not have second shoes will be prohibited from entering the class.

So I thought, okay, I'd get a pair after class. There was an interval of one hour between the end of class and the time I'd have to start cooking for breaking fast that day. I only needed to go to Tsentral, grab any suitable pair of shoes, and go back. No biggie. When class ended I immediately set off to go to Tsentral, and before going Anna stopped me for a bit, asking me where I was going. I answered, and she replied, "Oh. Jalan elok-elok." And I answered back, "Pergi Tsentral je..." thinking that it was a weird thing to say because I was only going to a nearby, familiar place. But I didn't pay much attention to it then.

I took the usual bus that would go to Tsentral and waited for the familiar Tsentral landmarks to show up. Pretty soon I was lost in thought, thinking of what I should cook for myself and Razi that day (I and one of my roommates back then shared our groceries together), and about the upcoming Raya Aidilfitri which would be my very first Raya away from family and on a strange land that is Russia. Back then I didn't have any MP3 player to keep me entertained, and I have left my handphone in my room because hardly anybody was using handphone back then, and I only had the Celcom sim-card there. So I used my imaginations to keep me occupied in the half-full bus.

All of a sudden I began noticing unfamiliar buildings showing up. I looked around to make sure and realized that even the route was one that I hadn't seen before. The bus should have arrived at Tsentral by that time and yet I hadn't seen the usual Green building complex or the marketplace opposite the said green building. I waited, thinking that I must have mistaken, until the bus suddenly made a turn and entered what almost looked like a highway (four-lane roads, but being new at the time I haven't seen such wide roads at Kursk then). I was like, oh no! Did I take the wrong bus? Looking at the signboards the bus had on its screen I knew that I didn't take the wrong bus.

And silly me decided to wait even more, just to get a bearing of where I was at that time and for me to assess my situation. Fear crept within me pretty soon when I realized that:

1. I didn't have my handphone so I couldn't call for anyone
2. Nobody I knew was on the bus so I couldn't ask in Malay or English where I was at then
3. My Russian was just pathetic I probably couldn't string up two decent sentences together
4. There might be skinheads ready to bash up foreigners, especially lost foreigners
5. There was a possibility that I might get killed and not live to see the light of another day....okay I was overreacting, but having been made known of the skinhead threats (which back then was pretty at large) so my fear back then was justified.

I tried calming myself. I thought, "Okay, let's just approach that kind conductor lady and try convey what I have in mind as best as I can, with whatever Russian words I know. I can do this, I can do this, if I don't do this I'll die for sure, not being able to celebrate Raya, not being able to even finish first year medicine, taubat pun tak sempat lagi....." So I went to the conductor lady, and the conversation pretty much went this way. I forgot the details from the conductor lady so I'm making these up as logically as I could.

Lost Student (Me): Excuse me, is this bus going to the Tsentral Market?
Nice Conductor Lady: ~looks at me oddly before glancing at the driver~ Oh no, another foreign student got lost! ~looks back at me~ There's a slight change in the bus routes which takes place recently. The route did take us to Tsentral but we have passed it way back there...it didn't stop right at the Green supermarket as it had previously but had passed behind the supermarket instead. You must have missed it.
LS: ~Not understanding anything she said, so I just pointed at the signboard~ But I thought...
NCL: Yes, yes, I know. Oh never mind, you just go sit at the farthest seat over there. (She has a foreboding look on her face as she pointed me to the back seat, and from her tone it sounded like it was very important for me to just sit there and be unnoticed. She looked very concerned of my wellbeing.) Don't make a sound, just sit over there quietly, okay?
LS: nodded weakly and went to sit as instructed.

And the journey went on and on and on until the late afternoon began to darken. My stomach was growling like mad - I should have been breaking fast by then in the comfort of my room (as much comfort as it had back then anyway). Instead I was there, in a bus, full of strangers of a strange land all looking at me as if I have two heads and seven arms and twenty legs from Mars. Way back then, foreigners were not a common sight so we always got gawked upon by the locals around here.

I was relieved somewhat from the conductor lady and the bus driver's apparent kindness. I was so hungry because I didn't even sahur that day before fasting. I was tired. I was imagining all the bad outcomes that could have happened to me then. I didn't even manage to enjoy the tour I was getting of the other side of Kursk - a side I was sure that no other foreign student in my batch had explored yet at the time unless they too got lost. Amidst all those, I still had the gale to school my face into a probably unsuccessful unconcerned look - because I'd be an easier target if I look like a nervous wreck! I read all the selawat and short Quran surahs that I memorized, all the time thinking about all those stories of people getting beaten up by racists around here. Alhamdulillah, nobody bothered me throughout the journey.

Soon it was dusk and the bus was empty as it veered into a lane leading towards a complex of apartment buildings. I was thinking then - are they taking me back for the night and only send me back to the university the next day? However that was not the case when they stopped in the middle of the road and the bus driver and conductor lady got down. They crossed the road where a mashrut (taxi-van) was parked. The bus driver and the mashrut driver talked a bit and the bus driver was pointing at me. Then the driver and the lady called me down and told me to get on the mashrut. I saw the mashrut bearing the same sign as the bus, and then the bus driver told me to get on this mashrut because the driver was planning to go to Tsentral. I wanted to pay the bus fare but the driver didn't want to take it, saying that I probably needed the fare to pay the mashrut driver instead.

Upon seeing the mashrut driver I suppressed the urge to shiver. Foreboding youngish guy, bald, heavily tattooed on the arms, smelled like he just had a drink and a smoke, and probably could use a shower....a total wholesome skinhead image which I had in mind back then. He told me to sit in front where loads of pornographic stickers decorated the dashboard. Double ugh. What had the bus driver and conductor lady put myself into? I kept thinking that any time soon the guy would take out a blade and demanded all the money I had, and upon realizing that I only had a hundred rubles he might get angry and kill me. Stupid hyperactive imagination.

But scary as he looked, the mashrut guy drove me back all the way back to Tsentral which took about 45 minutes, in silence (mashrut journey was faster than bus). Actually he tried talking but pretty soon drew a conclusion that I didn't understand a word he said or that I was wary of him. He told me he wasn't going towards the university as he had something else to do but from there he was sure that I wouldn't get lost. Thanked him, paid the mashrut fare and got off at the familiar sight of Green building.

I felt like laughing in relief upon the welcomed familiarity, although when I saw my reflection on a mirror I didn't like what I saw. I was pale, I looked scared. But I was also relieved. So relieved in fact I even managed to buy a pair of second shoes as planned before taking the bus back to the hostel, after making sure with the driver.

Upon arriving I realized that I was almost 2--3 hours late. It was already Isyak by the time I got back. Back in my room I saw Razi waiting still, because it was my turn to cook that day and he was about to demand an explanation for going off to who-knows-where before I beat him to it, launching a full-scale story of how I got lost and at the time I guess I was reliving the whole experience once again. I became shaky again. And apparently it was rather obvious when Razi suddenly volunteered to cook for the night and told me that what I needed to calm my nerves was a half-hour soaking inside the bathtub with those aromatherapy shower gels that he had just bought. I agreed: anything to calm myself and not having to cook that night was a plus because Razi was the better cook, and well-cooked foods would ease my nerves if the aromatherapy bath didn't.

The next day I went to Anna and told her, "Mulut kau memang masin sungguh! Cakap jalan elok-elok macam tau-tau je something else akan jadi." and launched the whole story. Even till now we'd have a good laugh whenever the story came up. Thinking about that day now when I am more experienced nearly made me laughed out loud.

I had tried tracing back my steps that day and knew that while I did get lost farther than the usual route it's really manageable nowadays, with improved Russian vocabs (as if!), handphones, and taxis everywhere. Yet that day I also realized that while there were bad Russians who were out to get us foreigners, there were good ones as well. It's just like Malaysia actually and anywhere else in the world. Some looked scary and foreboding but had good hearts, while some might look decent but their attitudes left much to be desired (and vice-versa of course). I also learned not to quickly judge people from the way they looked, although the sight of large, bald, red-faced Russians in black leather jackets could still kick my spider-senses into overdrive. I also realized then that it was very important for me to brush up my Russian because the people here don't know English, so that if I got lost again I can find my way back home easily.

And guess what? Just two weeks after that day, I got lost again.

But this time around, I wasn't alone; I had my handphone and more importantly, I had my Russian dictionary stashed in my bag. And we didn't even end up as far as I had gone.