Samara

Samara is a city of several million people located in the southern part of central Russia. Its 500 km from Nizhnekamsk, a five hour ride by car, all day by bus or train. To get there by plane, one must travel first from Nizhnekamsk to Moscow, then from Moscow to Samara. The best option is taxi. Bill and Elena invited me to their home for the weekend. They have been married for, I'm guessing, about 7 years now, having met on a Fluor job back in the late 90's.
Before Perestroika, Samara was a closed city. This meant no foreigners. The city was vital to the Soviet defense and space industry and provided a key role in manufacturing during World War II. The city sits on the north bank, and is dominated by, the Volga river. Having already received the Kama about 300 miles upstream near Kazan, this river is huge and breath-taking. It is lined with miles upon miles of clubs and restaurants, where all of the city's nightlife happens during the summer. A few blocks inland, the city displays an interesting mixture of architecture, consisting of pre-revolutionary wooden structures, Soviet era concrete and brick behemoths, and modern glass and granite buildings. The zoning laws seem to lack a bit of foresight in attempting to preserve and blend in the old and new. Hence it wasn't unusual to see these three different eras on the same block - and some times even attached - with no attempt to exact a visual transition.

The Zhigolovsky Brewery, founded in the 1800's 

   by an Austrian

The old and new joined

The land in the background is an island.                                                                                                                        

                                                                                        
The weekend was May 1, the Worker's day holiday, traditionally a day when everyone with any means leaves their apartments in the city and goes to their dachas - their small country houses. Elena and Bill own one which has been in her family for some time, and we went there on Sunday for a day of relaxation. The dachas are all located on the other side of the river. Since the city has not a single bridge. Amazing, huh?  Have they considered building one? Yes, but they can't collectively decide where to place it. It is bound to make a few landowners on the other side instantly wealthy, and everyone wants a piece of the action. So the city waits while the politicians argue. Anyway, a ferry is needed to cross to the other side of the Volga. These ferries hold probably a thousand folks, with their picnic supplies and many with bicycles. After a stop on the island in the middle of the river, the ferry lands on the southern side after about a 40 minute ride. They also have small air foils which cut the time down to about ten minutes, but there's usually a long line to catch these. Besides, the ferry is more scenic. Once off the ferry, a taxi ride of perhaps another 10 kilometers brings us to a small rural village with old houses, which are the dachas. This place is too hard to get to and maintain in the wintertime, so they are boarded up and everything of value is removed. Even then, professional "dacha raiders" ply their trade in the wintertime, and have their way with any that are left improperly secured. Steel doors with massive locks are the preferred method of security. Now, when spring comes, the owners resurrect these houses and spend many of their summer weekends here.

The dacha experience is a time-honored Russian experience. When famous Russian authors try to define the soul of Russia, they are described as people of the earth. This goes back to their  peasant roots in the 1800's, with the strong Russian orthodox rituals, their reliance on the land and their lighthearted approach to life. With city dwellers now relegated almost exclusively to small apartments, the dacha has taken on even more symbolic importance, and has become a proud Russia tradition.

Preparing lunchRespite from a showerPlanting trees

Sunset on the Volga