The blue eye of Baikal

A screen showed 0 degrees when I arrived at Irkutsk at 6am.  I met Elena, also from Couchsurfing, who woke up at that ridiculous time to come and pick me up from the station one Sunday.  She speaks Spanish and likes to practise with travellers.  She took me to her house and we went to sleep again.  I woke up and started reading a bit until her son came out and grumbled at me.  I ignored him and waited until Elena got up, then we ate something and she gave me a tour around the city.  She gave me lots of advice about how to get to Baikal and we spoke a lot about Latin America.  She really likes the culture and dances tango really well.  She wants to have a school for tango/dance in general. That night she invited me to a salsa evening with her friends.  I went but had a feeling that I would be the worst dancer in the group, and that's exactly how it was.  Those Russians really shocked me at how well they could dance.  I had to remind myself that I was in the middle of Siberia and not in a salsa club in Latin America!!  Also, they danced a bit of everything - meregue, tango, bachata, souk, afro and a load of other dances that I don't even know what they're called.  Yet again I regretted not knowing how to dance and yet again I went through the list of how I'm not a typical Colombian: - I don't know how to dance - I don't like football - I don't drink coffee - I hate aguardiente - I think twice before having a 'tamal' for breakfast - I have never tried the product that we export most - And even though it's not true, a lot of people tell me that I don't look Colombian The list is longer but let's leave it like that.  At one point different couples came together and did a choreographed dance, at various points swapping partners and jumping in the air.  It looked more like a professional dance as they were synchronised like a watch.  After seeing that I didn't feel like dancing and looking stupid and Elena told me that that always happens.  People didn't want to dance with her because she dances too well. In ancient times, the powerful Baikal was sensible and cheerful.  He loved his only child Angara.  She was the most beautiful girl in the whole world.  In the afternoons she turned into light that was as clear as the sky and in the nights, darker than a cloud of thunder.  And everything that went by Angara glorified her, even the passing birds: geese, swans, ducks came down but rarely touched Angara's watery face.  They said, 'how can we turn light into darkness?' The old Baikal looked after his daughter more than himself.  One time, while Baikal slept, Angara escaped to see the young Enisey.  Her father awoke, furious, and moved his waters.  A  great storm broke.  The mountains cried, the trees fell, the sky turned black and the fearful animals ran far across the world.  The fish dived to the depths and the birds flew towards the sun.  Only the wind blew fiercely and the sea worried. The powerful Baikal beat the mountain and broke part of it, throwing it at his daughter.  The cliff fell on her beautiful neck.  The blue-eyed Angara cried and begged: 'Father, I'm dying of thirst, forgive me and give me at least a drop of water!"  Baikal responded, furiously, 'The only thing I can give you are my tears!' Now, thousands of years after, Angara flows towards Enisey with tears, and the solitary grey Baikal has become gloomy and dismal. I decided to see Baikal from the island of Okhlon.  In the middle of the island there's the village of Khuzir which didn't look very promising but that was where my hostel was which was a backpacker's paradise.  I was very grateful for this as my brain didn't want to leave the 'one-word conversation' mode.  I stayed 3 nights on the island and felt a bit sad when I left.  I met really nice people and Baikal is a magnet whose beauty attracts anyone.  It's simple, blue, beautiful and very cold. I didn't think about swimming in Lake Baikal but after speaking to a couple of travellers that had done it, the sheep mentality got hold of me and I had to take the risk.  When I told a Spanish guy I'd gone in he told me I really had guts for going in there.  I stayed submerged in the lake until I could no longer feel anything which was about 50 seconds after I went in.  They say that if you submerge your entire body you extend your life by 25 years.  I doubt it very much because the risk of getting pneumonia or losing fingers through hypothermia is more possible. Another thing I liked about the place is that they give 3 delicious meals a day.  For lunch or dinner they generally prepare Omul (a fish unique to the Baikal region). On one of the days I did a jeep tour to the north of Okhlon Island.  There I met a Spanish guy called Jorge and his girlfriend Steffi.  Jorge reminded me a lot of a Spanish friend of mine also called Jorge, who I met in London.  Both are 100% Spanish with really deep voices, not well spoken, and they even looked like each other physically.  This Jorge has a Spanish soul but a hidden Russian conscience.  He spoke Russian in a Spanish way, a little rudimentary, and showed us how you had to explain everything to Russians 2 or 3 times and hurriedly.  What a great guy. On that tour to the north we saw the great beauty of Baikal, we listened to its Shaman and Buryat legends, we saw rocks in human shapes and I also felt a bit weird seeing the deepest part of the lake.  Steffi told me that many people try to climb the highest mountain of the island which is opposite the deepest part of the lake, but very few people manage to conquer it.  It's a very strange phenomenon, and it's not because it's such a difficult mountain to climb but because it is a place with strong energy (as it's a sacred place to Shamans and Buryats and because it's so close to the centre of the earth) many mountaineers have failed to reach the top. Another day, I went on a boat tour to various really interesting spots along the eastern side of the lake.  Thanks to Jorge for lending me that money and yet again I was amazed at the beauty of the lake. The day I left the lake, feeling very sad, there was a verbal and slightly physical bust up between some Dutch guys and the driver of the van.  The problem was that the 3 Dutch guys were on the last seat and there wasn't much space for a fourth passenger but there was a fourth passenger.  After a lot of shouting, tension and the driver violently placing himself between the guys to show them that 4 people did fit, he then threatened to leave them there (whilst returning the money), the guys agreed to be uncomfortable and the problem was resolved (kind of). I've seen this situation many times and the one who wins is almost always the one with power, either the driver or tourist guide or police officer or whatever.  I ask myself if it's worth fighting or if it's just better to be a sheep that just goes along with anything.  Is it worth fighting for what's just knowing that most of the time we are going to lose and will only get stress.  Changes don't come of weak or gentle attitudes, but many times because of my background I run away from problems and dont' fight for what's right, maybe due to fear, maybe laziness, maybe shame; anyway, no more public reflection. That night I went back to meet up with Elena in Irkutsk and didn't sleep much because I was sad about leaving Russia, a country that entangled me by surprise.  My last day in Russia was spent walking around Irkutsk with Elena, her friend Alisa and 2 Peruvian girls who were also backpacking. I left Russia feeling really sad and went on my way to Mongolia.  On the train I saw Thomas, a German guy I'd met in Baikal.  I spent my proper last day with him watiting for the not very nice immigration police officers to cross the border to the land of Genghis Khan. ps these photos don't do justice to the beauty of Baikal pps this note was written in UB, Mongolia, 3 weeks late