Russian Holiday

This event will definitely go down in my history book as a major fiasco. For close to ten weeks, I worked on getting cleared to pass into Russia to work: a job opportunity came along through a contact I met around the kart shop. When the time came close to leaving, I had much upheaval to deal with at home. My wife had been sick, she was not completely well yet. Our mortgage was in severe arrears and this job was to rectify that and more.

But I was determined and I spent money and much effort to get a chance to see some of the world, and work for excellent wages- as long as I could put up with the severe conditions.

You see, the jobsite is a remote sanddune on the coast of Russia and the Sea of Okhosk. Roughly on the same longditude as the lower islands of Alaska, Sakhalin Island is home to a huge oilfield on it's northern coast. The company hiring me was a contractor of Exxon/Mobile, building crew quarters and other infrastructure.

On September 9 I left Houston, I'd have a layover in L.A., then fly to Seoul, S. Korea. I was traveling on a shoestring budget though, and I had no way to venture out of the airport there, so my only view of the city of Seoul itself was from the air: it is a HUGE city, and the airport is closeby on an island called Incheon.

From there I flew to the capital of Sakhalin, Yuznho. It is a large city for the region, the largest on the island, but it is a testament to the past, to Soviet days and a collision with the present. Western corporate movers have taken over here, but little of the massive amounts of money goes the the town and people.

I had several chances to write on the trip, and I began to have a lowered overall mood as the trip went on. The following are missives I wrote longhand starting on the first night I spent in Russia, in a beautiful hotel in Yuznho called the Hotel Natalya. Like most buildings there, it was bland and depressing from the outside, but well appointed and mainained for their western business clients on the inside.


9-10-08 Sakhalin Island, Russia

I have just left the capital on Sakhalin Island, Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk, a large city in this region. I'm traveling by train, and as I look out the windows as we leave the city, I'm struck by the poverty here, many many city blocks of the poorest residences I've ever seen, with the possible exception of the living conditions for the Chippewa/Cree Native Americans on their reservation in Great Falls, Montana.
In my experience, nothing in Houston or Texas compares, though Juarez comes close. A teenage boy draws water from a community spigot; a woman in a pantsuit with an attache' case walks through the sullen huts, ramshckle lean-to's, corrugated panes and dirt floors, walking home from work as she does everyday-unless the job she works is an office job, inwhich they'll be closed on weekends. With her head down, and a grey suit, I wondered if I had the courage to continue if I were in her shoes.
My company, of whom I'm brand spanking new to, has already put out a small fortune to fly me here, feed me and put spending cash (rubles) in my pocket. I'll ride this train the full distance to Nogliki, a large village in the center of this large 200 x 1000 mile island. From there, a driver will pick me up and take me the remaining distance to the jobsite, a remote oilwell on the north-east coast where I'll coordinate the continuing task of erecting oilfild outposts: modular crew quarters and cover-all steel framed tents to house equipment. Exxon/Mobile has established drilling sites here and is taking millions of gallons of crude every day. While Royal Dutch Shell, Exxon/Mobile and other oil giants make billions of dollars along with their partner the Russian government as well as countless sub-contractor firms like mine, the indigieonous people who eaked out a living here are passed by: we see them on our way to work, on our way out- but not at the bank, not in prosperity but bitter, continued struggle. The Russian government might help them someday, the European/western oil firms will never help them.
Hopefully they'll learn how to help themselves, after all, they should see a reward for the opulence being mined from their land.

Being an English-only person here, I'm reminded of a quote, "It's better to keep quiet and let people think you're an idiot, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt".



It was a fascinating trip on many levels, and the train ride north to the town of Nogliki and south again on the way out was great. I had a private berth both ways, and stretched out and slept fairly well. I took time to write on both trips, and again at the two hotels I stayed at on the way out of Russia.


"We will bury you"- Nikita Kruschev

The Soviet Union seemed to be an unstoppable force, an enemy so potent we thought they would cause both our country's demise. Instead the paper lion crumpled and imploded. Why? In the 1950's, the USSR began to churn out industrialism. Their vast country held resources so plentiful, the sky wasn't even the limit: only imagination seemed to be it's limits. But the USSR was an empty husk of human echievment. Vanity perhaps or fear of conquest drove the leaders of this nation to strive to out-do it's counterparts including the U.S. In size, the USSR dwarfed all other nations including the U.S. But Strategic reckoning and timely alliances gave the U.S. some room to breathe: when Alaska became a state the U.S. took away Russia's advantage in the Bering Sea. With that and key alliances such as Japan and Korea as well as most of Northern Europe, the U.S. rose to meet the challenge the soviets posed: can you match us fist my fist, blow by blow? The U.S., viewed uncertainly by the Politburo, would become it's only real adversary. In the decades to come, the USSR would unwisely funnel too much of it's resources into out-matching the U.S. in military hardware, naval and air capabilities and in the space-race. While her people went grimly about the task of living up to the high expectations of their government, the U.S., Britain and others stoicly went about the business of nuetralizing the threat of Soviet domination. Millions in the west wondered if Kruschev was right and Kennedy was wrong, and adults and children alike wished ruefully for peace and a cessation of aggression.

But the Politburo reasoned that aggression was the best way to mitigate the U.S.'s obvious natural rise in stature in the world. The U.S. was the champion of freedom, a very dangerous thought to the Soviets. If they could put enough pressure on the U.S., it would cause the peace-niks to wail loud enough and weaken the resolve of the American people. Time and time again the will of the American people would be tested, the Soviet Union and Kruschev kept tightening the screws, ratcheting up the pressure, but in the end, it was the people of the USSR that couldn't continue: while the government spent hundreds of millions on military hardware, the people were starving, living in poverty, without hope: the USSR imploded in the 1980's.

Our president Reagan gambled and won by upping the ante on the Soviets. The U.S. began building up it's military again, forcing the Soviets to match it. The people of the USSR couldn't continue: there was food shortages, power failures, pollution and the worst nuclear accident the world had ever known: Chernobyl. The Soviet Union simply couldn't afforn to run it's system safely or wisely. Instead it whipped it's subjects into far over-reachning it's capabilities and the Nuclear genie ripped open it's bottle.

Now as this train passes through a huge region of under-developed countryside, I view the bland multi-family apartment buildings, the gutted, burned -out factories whose steel skeletons still remain, with regret. I feel sympathy for these commoners (-there but for the grace of God, go I...). Thankfully, the mad scramble for resources didn't make it this far north and east: not in such dramatic fashion. But the legacy remains in the indifference the modern Russions put on their pristine lands. In the city, pollution, corruption and poverty. In the countryside: emptiness. The same emptiness my heart shudders at the concept of.

I come home without a heavy heart: my relief flooding in has bouyed it. I don't have the spoils I went after, I have wasted a chance at a different lifesyle and some financial stability for now. Financial stability has never been a close associate of mine, though the latter chapters of my life have yet to be written. Relief, though, to be home, yes. I come home two days after Hurricane Ike swamped Houston. This storm and it's aftermath are an ironic part of this story, because my wife spent a horrified night with her stepmom Lynda at her house near central Houston, while my son and his wife and child stayed in my house west of Houston. Hurricane Ike was 30 mpg stronger (about 100mph) when it hit Welch street, and with the power out, Crystal was stuck there or the next few days as fuel wasn't available for travel. While in Katy, my house's power was knocked out only for a few hours, some of the metro area are still without power, more than three weeks after the storm. The storm's damage also gave me and other contractors here plenty of repair work, and I'm busy with that now.

During the Russian foray, I contracted a rash of some kind (It may have been the soap used to wash the linens at the hotel), but it spread to both sides of my face. When I finally got onsite, the medic wouldn't clear me to work, and all the trouble and distance I'd traveled were for nothing: I had to go back immediately. I worried about my ability to even get out of Russia at that point, and I had some of my most depressing hours waiting for the chance to leave.

9-12-08 Okha, Sakhalin

Of all my thoughts now, the strongest is "I've wasted an opportunity". Yes, I'm on the way home now, I lasted exactly one day. I was denied entry onto the worksite by the medic. During the initial examination, he noticed a rash that has been developing since I got here. It is on the sides of my face and nowhere else. Since he couldn't identify it, their procedure is to deny entry, and immediately remove the person from the site for at least six months. Their procedure started immediately, so, I'm gone. My strained money situation at home does weigh heavily on me, I'll have a large monster to wrestle to keep my house- it may not happen. But also is an underlying sense of relief: I'm going home. This is no life for me, I feel a huge sense of fear and panic here, I'm a stranger in a strange land (with a strange rash). Outside my hotel window is an open square inwhich an open air hockey rink has been builty. It's still summer and it's not ice, but sand and kids play soccer on it. They played until rain came last night. Surrounding it are 4 story apartment buildings of which this hotel looks identical: peeling 20 year old paint, rain streaking, identical architecture. It is Soviet architecture of course, this is the style they built in, it's all over Russia, in every city I've visited. Square, 4-story, bland, depressing. I passed some people on the street as I walked from the truck. As woman held the hand of a little girl, bundled up with a thick pair of style-less glasses on. I felt immediate, deep sorrow for this child, whose mother lived here in Okha, who hadn't one-tenth the opportunity an American child has. This type of poverty tends to replicate: it will continue because, for the most part, people will stick with what they know; it's a "fear of the unknown" issue. Unless, by some miracle, this little girl goes away to college, she may never know a life better than what her mom has provided. I can imagine the feelings these Russians have for us as Americans. It is my wish that they all yearn for what we have and find it for themselves: freedom (financial) and happiness. I could not stay here, it is bey9ond depressing. I have a violently bumpy four hour truck ride back to Nogliki, then a train ride south, back to Yuzhno. Please, God, let me out of Russia.

9-14-08 Yuzhno-Sakhalinsk

I'm really not sure what day or date it is, but it's my last night in Russia. I'll begin the backward journey I started over a week ago. After getting bounced from the Odoptu site, I waited for transportation off of that sand dune. Oil exploration is the dirtiest business on the planet. Since the very essense of the business is so filthy, the human participants seem blase' to the further polluting of the land: I saw Russian nationals litter without thought on several occasions. The "culture" of pollution is unshaken here, unlike the U.S.
I'm sitting in the Natalya Hotel in Yuzhno again, and it's till impressive. they are ready to put their guests up for extended periods. The Rooms are small apartments with kitchens and bedrooms. Be prepared to pay though, I don't know how much the room is, but the dinner tonight cost $40 or 1000 rubles. The Taj Mahal restaurant is on the first floor and what a wonderful dining experience! I've never developed into a fan of traditional Indian cuisine, which is exactly what this restaurant is. But Dave Kaiser, the PRC bgoss here in Yuzhno brought me here earlier in the week, and I revisited tonight. I'm stuffed!! Two draft beers, an entree of pork marsala ( a mildly spiced pork with sauce) and a delicious chicken and rice dish with a cool cucumber and curry sauce I'd experienced with Dave before.

News has told me 4 million households are without power in Texas due to Hurrican Ike. I'm assuming my house is included in this blackout so It'll be iteresting to find my way home once landed at Intercontinental Airport in Houston. Interestingly, a typhoon has hit Taiwan and would interrupt my travel if I were only days later, it seems it won't create conflict.
Also, an Aeroflot Boeing has crashed in the Ural mountains of central Russia. I'm flying out tomorrow on Aiana Air, butr Dave did wish me safe travel. Let me state that every one of Dave's employees, from the handlers to the drivers did a great job for me. I believe his organization will succeed at whatever they attempt, and brother, they're trying to do a lot up there!
I'll be relieved to be back in the United Satates for several reasons, the least of which is a bad day there is still better than the best day overseas. I have had an allergic reaction I think to a hotel pillow, and although it's fading somewhat, I'm terrified they'll notice it and quarantine me or detain me. I can't imagine being sick here.
God, please get me out of Russia. Amen

When the wheels came up on the flight out of Yuznho, I gave a silent cheer and looked forward to returning home, to see my wife and take care of her as she deserves, to breathe American air again, and be spoken to, in English, by people whom I consider all to be my brothers and sisters. God Bless America! It's good to be home!

I have one more long missive from overseas, and it's interesting to me now to read it again, and remember the feelings I felt: loneliness, fear and some panic.
I'll run that one tomorrow...


-Katykarter