Day 11: Chita , Chita with Wanna

Germin leans on my chair while I take a photo of us in the mirror, at Bros hair salon in Chita.
Bros.

Today

  1. Good morning, Chita
  2. Breakfast time
  3. Soviet style
  4. Advertising art
  5. Bro!
  6. 3GB of 3G
  7. Lunch
  8. So long, Chita
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Map showing the co-ordinates latitude 52.0515032 and longitude 113.4711906.

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Day 11/298
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A long stopover in Chita turns into an entertaining day, full of surprises.

Good morning, Chita

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A pale blue four story church with golden onion domes and a tall tower, opposite Chitaʼs Railway Station.
Awesome!

We arrive at Chita at 6:30am.

I say we, because I have discovered that Wanna is on my train.

We’re not quite halfway to our destination to Irkutsk, but we have ten hours to kill here and there’s no way we’re spending it in our bunks.

We stumble off the train and stare in wonder at the awesome, domed church opposite the train station. The towers are pastel blue and the golden domes are like oversized Christmas ornaments, placed just out of reach of small hands and paws.

Near a beer tent outside the station, a random man wanders over and hands me a half-empty hip flask of Kak CtekAblLLIKO vodka, with a Welcome to Russia. He looks unkempt and I assume that he is homeless and that the vodka is cheap and nasty. I won’t be rushing to drink it, but I thank him anyway.

Breakfast time

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A poster advertises bread, cheese, sausage, milk and fruit juice, in Chita.
Soviet staples.
Cross section of a half eaten chocolate ice cream.
Ice cream, all the way to the bottom.
A bottle of Kbac wears a golden label and contains a mysterious brown liquid,
Not cola.

Excited at the possibility of digesting something other than my eclectic train picnic, my stomach starts telling me that it’s breakfast time.

Walking up the main street, we find a small grocery store cum deli that has just opened. With the best intentions, I somehow manage to walk out with a chocolate ice cream and a drink that I hope is cola.

The ice cream comes pre-served which, I happily find, means that the filling is packed all the way to the bottom of the cone. This is good news, as the ice cream is delicious.

The cola, however, is not cola. It has a weird flavour, which I can’t quite place – perhaps something nutty. The label is in cyrillic and uses a friendly typeface on an impressively shiny golden background. But I have no clue what it says.

Soviet style

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Wooden half-rounds cover the wall of an ancient log cabin, in Chita.
Log cabin.
Four story yellow buildings with white rectangular columns sit behind tall metal gates, in Chita.
State(ly) buildings.
Bronze statues of soldiers stand guard outside a solid yellow building, in Chita.
Soldiers on guard.
A squat building with a curved frontage, reflective windows and tiled walls, displays a few stage play posters, in Chita.
Possibly the local playhouse.
Wanna walks down a tiled hall, in Chita.
The maze that is the local mall.
A shelf of brown fur boots look like horse legs.
Winter wear.
A window display of yellow leaves catches reflections of trees and Wanna with her camera, in Chita.
Autumn leaves.
A peace symbol has been sprayed onto a corrugated iron fence patching a hole in an aging concrete monstrosity, in Chita.
Peace.
Three story apartment blocks line a deserted street, in Chita.
Suburbia.
A large statue of Lenin, on a pedestal outside an eight story building with many windows, in Chita.
Lenin keeps watch.
Wanna crouches amid dozens of pigeons, in Chita.
Wanna discovers pigeons.
Squares and circles form ornate patterns on the footpath, in Chita.
Tile this.
Trolley buses are powered by overhead wires, in Chita.
Trolley buses, just like at home.
A car is parked in the middle of the road, in Chita.
Convenience parking.
A soaking sphere spins smoothly.

The architecture is a mix of the ultra-conservative and the quietly artistic.

Hulking great buildings, with small windows, tower over infinite plazas. There is an overabundance of concrete, and ominous statues stand guard over established systems and remind everyone who is in charge here.

But elsewhere, ornate tiles and fancy window displays challenge the mundane. They prove that life exists here, and that the people are both perceptive and reflective.

Advertising art

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Father and son dry off in an illustrated poster, in Chita.
Towel-off.
A roadside sign depicts a man hammering a new sole onto an upturned boot, in Chita.
Sole trader.
An American movie poster is overlaid with strange cyrillic text.
Alien American.
Pretty women cradle triangular and ovalular guitars in their arms.
Local ladies rock their axes.
A man rests his chin on an accordion while wearing a tall fluffy hat.
Accordion fashion.
Women in headscarves and men in sun hats discuss important things.
Housewives and husbands.
Soldiers wearing cloaks with ornate hemming whisper amongst themselves.
Soldiers on stage.
An outline of a fashionable woman, on a background of starry constellations.
Join the dots.
The middle of three white tigers roars from a red poster.
White tigers.
A bear on a bicycle, dark skinned dancers, and women with fancy head dresses and floral wings.
Hard acts to follow.
Real estate, printed and handwritten advertisements on a noticeboard, in Chita.
Tear-off tabs.
A mural is split into quadrants, and features a four point star on top of an oval globe, in Chita.
Pastel mural.
A cyrillic signs appears to say Wankn, in Chita.
Hehehe.

There are also a lot of cool posters to look at.

There is a classic Russian illustration depicting family time in a sauna. American sci-fi movie posters rock alien glyphs like backward N’s. Men and women with fancy hair pieces pose with otherworldly instruments. Siberian tigers roar from circus flyers, and there is a whole wall of advertising for stage plays that look like they deal with the gritty issues of life and history in Russia.

There’s even a humble noticeboard, the heart and soul of any community. It is strange to see that tear-off tabs are also used here, to share contact details. I thought that this was something that they only did in New Zealand.

Bro!

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Germin leans on my chair while I take a photo of us in the mirror, at Bros hair salon in Chita.
Bros.
A ʼman onlyʼ Jagermeister dispenser and a picture of a bare bottomed woman, which reads ʼNaked fannyʼ.
Man only.
A small espresso, with a good crema.
Espresso goodness.
A row of barber chairs, an old motorcycle, and a illustration of a heart and two hands shaking.
The fit out was from the heart.

And then, a diamond in the rough.

In the midst of it all, a hipster, hiphop, espresso oasis. It feels like I’ve just walked into a trendy suburb in San Francisco.

My hairdresser is called Germin. He is the hippest hipster in Chita, with DIY piercings to boot! And he is utterly professional, snipping and shaving my shaggy grey hairs away with great care. I feel like a million dollars.

Afterwards, I order an espresso from the lovely lady who I assume is his partner, lucky Germin.

Meanwhile, Wanna has fallen asleep in her chair, clearly unimpressed by all the boring boy-talk. Poor dear.

3GB of 3G

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A Russian MTC phone connection contract, with my signature on it.
My scary Russian contract.

Not content with simply giving me a great haircut, Germin also tells me where I can buy a local SIM card, with data.

Leaving Wanna to walk off her boredom, I find my way to the nearest MTC phone shop, which is small but busy.

I’m totally out of my depth in the language department, but a very patient and professional young salesman takes the time to walk me through the package and the Russian contract. Eeek! Apparently the montly MTC “Smart” Universal (opens new window) plan includes 3GB of 3G data and I need to deactivate something before I leave Russia..

I nervously sign my life away, but am relieved to have some cheap local data, paying only 500 Rubles (just under NZ $12) for the entire package.

Lunch

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An arched window cut out in a brick wall hosts an elaborate display of baked goods, in Chita.
Bread in the wall.
The crispy end of a chewy bread snack.
Freshly baked.
A large brown bear holds a large glass of beer between his paws.
Bearly true.
Beer taps cover a wall under a large sign stating FISH BEER, in Chita.
Uncovering a fishy tale.
I drink the fish beer from a plastic cup.
Tastes like beer.
Half a bottle of vodka and a bag of tomatoes and cucumbers.
Gifts from the locals.

My stomach is calling again, so I meet up with Wanna and we head to an interesting hole in the wall, literally.

It contains all manner of bready treats. Despite the goods being stacked in the window, this is one instance where window shopping certainly isn’t going to cut it, and we buy a selection of things.

Consuming these one by one, I conclude with a chewy custardy thing which is encased in crunchy pastry, sprinkled with icing sugar. It is pretty tasty, but I am starting to get bread head!

Next stop is the local brewery, FISH BEER. The poster caught my eye hours ago. For starters, it’s pretty hard to ignore a smiling bear holding a frothy beer. Plus, I remember nature documentaries, of bears scooping fish out of rivers. At least I think I do. Perhaps they add fish to the beer, to appeal to the local bears?

Once inside, we are confronted with a wall of taps. It’s great to see such variety, but I’m disappointed to learn that there is no fish in the beer, no fish anywhere. I buy a beer anyway, as I expect that everyone does. Wanna passes up the offer, as she usually does, but concedes a small sip.

Just as we are finishing up, a friendly woman comes in. We learn that she works at the local newspaper. She is interested in our story and invites us to do a radio interview, but unfortunately our train is leaving soon.

So much for being world famous in Russia. Obligingly, she pulls out her small and fiddly camera and takes a picture of us, before sending us off with the bag of fruit and vegetables she has just bought.

So long, Chita

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Wanna stands on an empty platform while a long line of tanker wagons roll by, in Chita.
Wanna tracks down our train.
Wanna sits next to a large pile of candy.
Chinese sweeties.
A blur of empty fields and forest, out the train window.
Scenic sunset.

After expecting so little, it is a little sad to leave Chita.

We locate our train and get comfortable for the long ride to Irkutsk. We’re both keen to get a glimpse of the famous Lake Baikal, tomorrow.

First written 12th September 2015.

Last updated 4th December 2023.

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