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Published: August 22nd 2013
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We took the boat across Baikal One of the results of the breadth of state control in the Soviet Union was that it encouraged the attitude that ‘The State will look after everything’. Perhaps this is one factor that contributes to widespread littering in Russia: a lack of personal responsibility for the consequences of individual actions. Another result was the almost complete lack of civil initiatives. Seen as a threat to the power of the Communist Party and the stability of society, non-government organizations in any form (political, religious, even recreational) were forcibly opposed by the state. Although there were many opportunities for worthy civil activities (such as cleaning up rubbish, planting trees and helping pensioners or disabled war veterans), these were always organized and controlled by organs of the state. Consequently, after the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991, such programmes disappeared almost completely. In my time in St. Petersburg I’ve been interested to see how this side of Russian society is changing and developing and have participated in some volunteer organisations, most of all in one that provides food and clothing for homeless people (
www.homeless.ru). It’s interesting to note that almost all the Russians who work or volunteer in such organisations are young enough
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Then we walked to our camp to have been educated after the second half of the 1980s, when the Communist ideology weakened and there were greater opportunities to communicate with ‘the West’. It’s a mark of a significant division between generations in Russia.
When I looked for interesting opportunities in the Baikal region, I found a charity (Russian run, internationally funded) that is concerned with developing ‘eco-tourism’ (whatever that means, I guess they have hikers and campers in mind). It’s called
Great Baikal Trail and is based in Irkutsk (
http://www.greatbaikaltrail.org/) Looking at their summer projects, I picked one that seemed as far away from population centres as possible, located on Lake Frolikha in the north-east corner of Lake Baikal. The aim of the project was to spend two weeks working on the 6km stretch of footpath that runs between the two lakes.
Our party consisted of three members of GBT, four Russian volunteers and four foreign volunteers. Meeting up in Severobaikalsk I had an unpleasant initial impression. Volunteers on such projects are expected, reasonably enough, to contribute to the cost of food to the tune of 7000 rubles (140 pounds). However, I’d only read the Russian version of the website and it turned out
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Lake Frolikha that foreign participants are expected to pay more than twice that amount. The discrimination took me unawares as well as offending my European sense of equality, so that even though a couple of phone calls were made and I was accepted as a ‘Russian’ volunteer, I felt irked by the policy, which reminded me of the unscrupulous restaurants I encountered when I first visited Russia which had two menus, in English and Russian, containing different prices.
The project itself contained lots of good experiences, most of all simply living in unspoilt Siberian forest, a mixture of pine, birch, cedar, ash and other trees, with moss, berries and flowers growing abundantly, and chipmunks, birds and anthills to be observed all around. We had our camp by Lake Frolikha and it was simply delicious to swim in the morning in the fresh clear water surrounded by forested hills with not a road, vehicle or building within sight. It was equally lovely to swim after a tiring day of clearing brush or digging steps on the trail before relaxing in front of the camp fire. The other volunteers were a varied bunch and I got on well with both the Russians and
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Wilderness around Frolikha foreigners, who consisted of a couple of Canadians and a very forthright and efficient middle-aged Swiss nurse. As none of the other foreigners spoke Russian, I often acted as translator and general diplomat in the camp.
Unfortunately not everything ran smoothly and, reflecting now on the problems that we had, I can see that just about everything stemmed from poor management by our ‘brigadier’. Although very kind, hard-working, well-meaning, she had little natural authority, charisma or skill at communication and absolutely no ability at managing people. Arguments resulted from misunderstandings, camp meetings were appallingly conducted and Anya seemed oblivious of the idea that, especially as volunteers, knowing not only what to do, but the logic behind it, were essential to a good spirit of cooperation and work ethic. A bit insecure of her authority and puzzlingly offering little encouragement, she fell back on rather an authoritative style of leadership with grated especially with the foreign volunteers. It was an interesting example of failed leadership and I sorely missed the no doubt incisive analysis of the situation that Oscar would have given.
As the project neared its conclusion, I was unsure what to do with the litre of vodka
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At work on the trail that I’d brought with me. Usually an essential supply on camping trips here, our brigadier had told us that alcohol was strictly forbidden (something I’d not known until after I’d packed my bags, I’d like to add). Not wanting to carry the heavy bottle all the way back, and certainly not wanting to waste it, I ventured to the hut of the wardens who manage the area around Lake Frolikha. We’d had some contact with these friendly local guys, as they provide support for GBT projects, and had got on well with them. Although their job is mainly to enforce the ban on fishing and hunting that exist in the designated reservation around the lake (there's an endangered species of fish which inhabits the lake), this comes with the perk of being able themselves to hunt and fish there. Perhaps the same would have happened in European countries, but I felt a great ease and naturalness in the way that I was able to turn up uninvited at their camp and be unceremoniously but hospitably included in their group. We spent a congenial and relaxed couple of hours chatting and eating the most incredibly delicious fish, basically raw but slightly
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The return boat trip salted, and polished off my bottle between the four of us without any trouble.
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