Camp 21 - A camp for tough guys and chipmunks ...
1st - 14th September 2007
by Eveline Dudda
Time has gone by so quickly! Heavy rucksacks, that we carried through the Siberian woods, midges, that were bothering us, are now things of the past. Now, the clothes don't smell of smoke anymore. We have our soft toilet paper back that you can easily tear. Now, the breakfast doesn't contain pine-needles, we don't have to drink milk out of a can and if I continue eating so much, I soon won't need the three extra belt holes anymore. The GBT camp 21, where we built a trail from Ust-Barguzin to Chivyrkuisky Bay, lies in the past. We treasure it and have a vivid memory of it.
Our team consisted of Mario, Stefan, Carsten, Johanna and Volodnya from Germany. Volodnya had, in addition to his German passport, also a Russian one. There was also Rolf, a Norwegian living in Ireland, Marianne, Anthony and Jessica from England, Danielle and Eliza from the USA, Susan from Finland, Igor II from St Petersburg and the local people Igor I (our boss), Tanya (the interpreter and person responsible for shaping the project and the cooperation within the team) and Olya (the person responsible for food including sweets). Who else? Ah, yes: Guido and me, Eveline. We represented Switzerland.
For some people it was hard work ...
For Igor I, Tanya and Olya the camp was hard work - for the rest of us it was just another leisure activity. But, wait a minute. Actually, Susan, the journalist, was there for professional reasons. It was her job to write a report about our camp. To be honest, I feel a little sorry for Susan, poor Susan. It was not easy for her. Not only because she had to drag professional photography equipment - others did that, too. And anyway, it didn't matter considering the the heavy stuff that we had to carry almost all the time ... No, Susan, the poor girl, had to write an exciting report. A haunting story about what happens when civilized, pampered Westerners go into the Siberian wilderness for 14 days living like nomadic people together with strangers. A story about the group dynamics, about how we deal with climbing a hill or mountain under difficult conditions, about our attitude to work and how we deal with diverging culinary demands. We gave her a run for her money because we didn't fight.
That wasn't our intention. It just happened, really, I swear. Of course we could have had dozens of fights. For example, when it came to the distribution of the additional load of food and tools. With a balance we could have measured exactly who will carry 6.1kg/13.4lb or 5.9kg/13lb (women) or 8.3kg/18.3lb or more (men). We could have left everything behind that would have made the rucksack weigh more than 33kg/72.7lb (or 25kg/55lb). Or we could have - much more dramatically - collapsed when climbing the pass because of the heavy load on our backs. Heavily breathing, groaning, muttering curses, wiping our faces with our sweat-soaked T-shirts we could have said: "We can't take it anymore!" But we could take it. (Although we hadn't been so sure about it at the beginning.) And we wanted to take it - that was for sure. Everyone! And while doing so we were even laughing. Also everyone! (Although not at the same time.) I think, some even enjoyed the drudgery. And day by day the work became easier. Day by day we were rewarded with a stunning landscape. Most of the time, the camp was just wonderful. The evenings were never without singing or playing games. Talking, laughing, sitting on the campfire, drinking tea - is there anything better in the world?
We always obeyed the orders from our reserved leader Igor I, from the dedicated food manager Olya and the interpreter Tanya. Why shouldn't we? After all, we were there for working. Arguing about who is the most important within the group? An ignorant attitude to work? Low motivation? I personally can't think of any scenes like these. Injuries, accidents? Didn't occur. Only some scratches or some bites, mainly from mosquitos, sometimes from wasps. Or someone sprained his foot. And when Igor II almost broke through a 'bridge' he could rescue himself that fast that no one even noticed the little accident. And that's it - no other accidents. And nothing broke, besides a tent pole and some hand axes but they were repairable.
(No) Fire under the roof ...
After a few days, when soot particles were falling onto the roofs of our tents and the air was filled with smoke - before we lighted the campfire - Susan probably drew hope. Finally, she would get a stunning story about the crackling sounds of the burning woods, falling trees, faces drawn with pain when seeing the blazing flames. Our group surrounded by fire in the Siberian wilderness. Desperately lost or at least still rescued with last-ditch attempts. Yes, that could have been a big story - but, unfortunately, it came to nothing. Forest fires is a permanent problem in the Zabaikalsky National Park. We were walking across areas where we didn't have to use the hedge shears since the bushfire burned everything down. However, we were safe. Even though the wind carried some soot particles to us from time to time, the fire was far away.
We didn't even see any wild animals. The bears always fled when they heard us coming. So they only left us some excrement that was more or less fresh. And the poisonous snake - a Halys viper -, that Guido had caught, just bit his finger. And since he was wearing leather gloves, he was rarely impressed ...
Things went on like this. The food, that Eliza always described as 'delicious', was no cause of conflict. (Maybe because we were always hungry enough?!) Even when Mario burned the kasha really bad, the other camp participants didn't think of lynching him. Those, who were really hungry ate the kasha and tried to take the burnt flavour away with sugar (which didn't work). The others abandoned breakfast and hoped for better times (which came shortly afterwards). Even the weather was very generous - within the two weeks it was raining only once and only for one and a half hours. The camp was well organised. Except for the boat that arrived half a day later than expected. Or except for the mini van, taking us back to Ust-Barguzin, that we had to push. But this was just another ridiculous event that rather lifted our mood than brought it down. Especially, since we were successful in preventing the luggage to fall out of the van.
Also we, the old ones (Guido and I were close to the age limit for participating in this camp) didn't do the journalist a favour - maybe we would have collapsed or something. A little cardiac arrest, some hypertension or at least shaky knees when climbing a mountain could have made the story a little bit more exciting but Guido didn't cooperate. On the contrary: He was called 'chipmunk' because even though the daily work was very exhausting he had enough energy in the evening to climb a tree and take photos. Some distances the 'chipmunk' even walked several times - at first with his own rucksack on his back and then with luggage from other participants. And Susan wouldn't write something negative about me, the 'grandma' in the group, so to speak. I always cared for some culinary change by cooking a meal of fungi. The way to a man's heart is through his stomach, isn't it?
All in all, it wasn't that bad for Susan
Speaking of food: Now I remember that Susan had 6kg (2.7lb) of 'konfety', that means candy, in her rucksack. She was, so to speak, right at the source which was an important advantage for a person who loves sweets (like her). And besides, the weight of her rucksack was reduced day by day since no one said 'no' to candy. In contrast to my additional load: Unitl the forth day I could only get rid of a package of bay leaves and a tube of mustard. Furthermore, this has to be said, Susan was one of the birthday children in our group - besides Igor II. Unbelievable but true: For their birthdays they got a real, home made and decorated cream cake with several layers served at the campfire. So it wasn't that bad for Susan. And when I think about what she also got for her birthday I think that she was really lucky. She got a boat trip. And who of you, dear audience, has ever gone on a boat trip along the most beautiful bay of Lake Baikal on your birthday? Anyone?
The more I think about it, the more I realise that Susan was actually really lucky. Actually, I'm the person who is badly off since I promised the people from Baikalplan e.V. to write an article about the camp. What should I write? Just 'It was great!'? Although it's true it's still too modest, too little is said. For us it has been the most wonderful holiday in years. Maybe or precisely because it was an exhausting holiday. If the camp can be described at all, I would just say: "It was a super duper mega awesome incredibly wonderful time!"
