Slutsk

We got a relatively early start today. Woke up at 9:30, but didn't get out of the hostel for almost 2 hours. The last 20 minutes were spent in a discussion with the receptionist who, through the magic of Google Translate, agreed to make us a card for the train station to say which train we wanted to take tomorrow so we could more easily buy tickets.

We got on the metro a little after 11:30. We left the hostel with a peculiar mission in mind. First, to buy train tickets. Second, to reach Slutsk.

Slutsk is the ancestral home of the Komisar branch of my family. My great great grandparents, Frada and Hersch Komisar, lived there. Their 8 sons made their way to the US through Canada, into New Haven, CT, and then spreading out across the country. Since I was this morning the closest that anyone in my family has been to Slutsk in 100 years, I resolved to make the final leg of the journey at the behest of my father.

We got our train tickets with relative ease at the station. The ticket cost me about 377,000руб, $45.42. It's a 12 hr train, so I'd say decent price.

Without a guide, nor the resources to find one, we'd have to make it to Слуцк (Slutsk) ourselves. From the train station we walked between two tall stone identical towers and down Kirava Rd. I had reserved earlier today online a car at Enterprise Rent-a-car, which had an office on the next block, Проспект Незалежнасц, but we couldn't find that block, and stopped in at the Crown Plaza hotel to get directions.

To make a long story short, the Crown Plaza's in-house rental company, Aznur, rented me a car for half the price that Enterprise had quoted (also, they told me Enterprise didn't exist. Something I argued, but later tonight realized I had reserved with Europcar.. Whoops). By 1:30, we were out on the road.

There was a little confusion getting out of the city, but before long we were following the signs to Слуцк on the P23, heading south. 

We arrived in the town around 3. There was no moment when we saw it on the horizon, we just hit it. It was there. Suddenly, we were in Слуцк.

Slutsk today is a thriving town of, I would estimate, 15,000-20,000. I've never been good at estimating, though. Most buildings are newer, built since the War, and Slutsk itself was probably mostly destroyed at that time. There is an unmarked mass grave of about 12,000 Jews outside the town, and no Jewish cemetery that we could find, though we did stumble upon a fairly gigantic Catholic cemetery. Oh, and Slutsk has more supermarkets per capita than any place on earth. Every other building we walked into was a supermarket.

The town is clean, and the people well dressed. Like in Minsk, every middle aged woman is dressed like every picture I've seen of my mother's grandmother: large fur hat, heavy fur coat, jewelry galore and sturdy but stylish shoes. Some of that may be a factor of the perpetual 7-8 inches of snow we have on the ground right now, but it's pretty clear that this has been in fashion forever.

There is an old one-room wooden church standing on the side of the river in the center of town. It's beautiful and ornate, and seems to be one of the only things left standing that could have been from before the war. At least that we saw.

According to my dad, the last person in my family to set foot in Slutsk did so in about 1914, 98 years ago. Clearly much has changed since then. If I took a random guy or girl my age from Slutsk and placed them in any cosmopolitan city, they would not look out of place at all. It's not like Ilianda (spelling?) in Romania, home of my paternal grandfather's grandfather, which could well have been frozen in time upon our arrival in 2003. Then, cows were in the road, it looked like no car built after 1945 had ever driven through, and chances were it didn't belong to any inhabitant. That town, like Slutsk, was isolated, surrounded by farmland (or what we assume was farmland... There was a lot of snow), but had not evolved with the times. Slutsk, however, is situated right on the P23, the main highway heading south from Minsk, a mere 100km from the city. If it had a few more restaurants (we couldn't find a single one, even when we asked in terrible Russian for directions) and a hotel, I could envision Slutsk turning into an inland resort town for the wealthy Minsk elite.

We wandered the town, both by car and on foot, looking for a restaurant, or some sort of store besides a supermarket. Being unsuccessful in both endeavors, we left the town around 5:30, bound once more for Minsk.

I almost fell asleep on drive back. Jonas had to keep me awake. We tried to find a gas station to get a red bull (there had been 8 or so going down to Slutsk), but didn't get one until we were 11km outside the city. And as soon as dusk came, around 6, the days upon days of lack of sleep came upon me. And I couldn't trade out driving with Jonas - he doesn't have a license.

It's ok, though. I took a quick catnap on the side of the road at one point, and we listened to some loud obnoxious music to keep me awake. And with the redbull at that first gas station, I felt fine again.
 
Got back around 8 to Postoyalets. We collapsed.

After hours of relaxation, we left to seek dinner around 10:45. Because of the hour, it took us quite a while to find a place. Everything seemed to be closed. It was only around 11:30, after we had given up and Jonas was navigating me to a 24-hr supermarket called Preston Market (Престон Маркет) that I saw a 24-hr sushi place and we pulled over.

It was called GoldenCoffee Кафе. And it was upscale. And cheap. We procured a 60-piece (approx 8.5-9 rolls of sushi) platter for 370,000, or $44.57. Since we've been living so frugally recently, we decided to treat ourselves.

It was delicious. And I think it's the first time I've been truly full since arriving in Europe. Quite wonderful.

Next came Престон Маркет. We got all kinds of food for tomorrow's 12-hr train ride. It was, as always, cheap.

Got back around 2am. Asleep by 4.

As I fell asleep, word came through that Newt was projected to win the SC primary. Step it up, Romney!