…even before i opened my eyes. it was darker than it should have been, like the earth had drifted away from the sun during the night and the daylight was thinner. i wondered idly about this scenario for a couple of minutes (the end of civilisation, mass extinction, no more кафе с молоком chocolate bars) before deciding to open my eyes to see if it was true. it wasn’t. it was much more frightening than that: the view from my windows was almost entirely obscured by snow. i had gone to sleep in a flat and woken up in an igloo. wow, i thought, that’s a lot of snow. i can see why siberians don’t bother with curtains. and then i remembered – i live on the second floor.
because i am five i thought this was very exciting and had to get outside as soon as possible, assuming it was actually possible. to honour the occasion, i decided to wear my hat. the way people talk about hats here, endlessly discussing their importance in reverential tones, i have come to think of them as magical objects granting their wearers almost supernatural powers that make you immune to radiation, bear attacks, coverage of the tomkat wedding, and even the cold. while the first three are true, the last one is true only up to a point – that point being some five seconds after stepping outside into a blizzard where the temperature is minus 12 without the wind factor (you will see, i have been told, minus 40 without the wind is a lot better than minus 25 with it – can’t wait).
however, the ferocity of the cold took second place for once to the stupendous scene before me. i had never seen this much snow before. most of the known world had disappeared – cars, trees, buildings and any sense of place. and still it was snowing. but this is siberia and they have their own forces of nature to deal with anything the winter can throw at them – they are called babooshkas. these old women, with snow shovels seemingly twice their size, were out clearing doorways and sculpting defiles through which the rest of us could plough our way to the bus stop.
nothing stops the buses either – literally. you see them come looming out of the violent fog of flakes about 50 metres away, two unsteady lights hovering in the air above where the road used to be. from 25 metres it begins to take on a shape and you see the driver pressed hard against his seat, everyone else crammed at the back of the bus, desperate to slow it down. it skids into touching distance and you notice that the road is several feet lower than it used to be. the doors fling open but still it hasn’t completely stopped. as it edges by, you realise it isn’t going to stop either. people inside the bus hold out their hands and you grab on and jump before the bus picks up speed again and heads into the city. commuting was never so much fun.
along the route there are hundreds of workers with shovels, snow blowers, and tractors trying to clear paths along the roads and pavements. even with all that manpower, however, the snow is still winning and the city is gradually sinking into drift, like a giant wedding cake. as the bus slides through my stop i jump out and land up to my knees in snow. i am helped out by two men in enormous fur hats while, bizarrely, the theme from ‘the third man’ plays over the bus stop tannoy. i turn left because that is what i normally do but i have little sense of direction because the snow is even heavier now, blinding me. i see lowrie-like black blurs moving in the flickering whiteness ahead of me and decide to follow them. coming to a junction, i find that crossing the road is now a matter of life and death. the drivers cannot see, the cars cannot stop and the difference between the road and the pavement is over a metre and a half in places and it is like scrambling up a sand dune.
finally reaching the office, i feel quite heroic. i expect medals. холодно? my friend asks me with a triumphant look on her face – are you cold? i tell her i am and wonder at the glint in her eye. looking around i notice that she is not alone and that, as it turns out, everyone is in a terrific mood. eventually it is explained to me: this is what they have been waiting for. we have had snow and cold for a while now, but this is the real deal and they can finally relax. winter has arrived and siberia is in its element. knee-deep, in fact.
