My Way (and the highway)

Apparently there is a Russian comedian who cites Frank Sinatra’s well-known song “My Way” as the mantra of Americans and uses this motif often in his sketches. Again, a grain (or pebble) of humorous truth found its way into my shoe more than once this year as I determined to go it alone (ad-NAH) on Samara’s public transport.  Half the time,  the journeys across town went smoothly (this word is used figuratively–there would never be such a thing as a smooth ride on Samara’s streets and rails).  I felt pretty good about myself–finding the right bus or tram stop–remembering the number of the bus/tram/taxibus I was supposed to take–getting a seat near the conductor (ticket taker)–showing my transport pass card–asking her (always a woman) in decent Russian to tell me when we were approaching the particular stop (i.e. Chirimshanskaya, Aquarium, Giorgi Dimitriva, Krasnayarmysky)–staying alert for familiar landmarks–getting out of my seat and near the folding doors as my stop came close–hopping off without getting trampled–then walking to my final destination.  This procedure typically took 45 minutes to 1. 5 hours, depending on traffic jams (probkas).  Only twice was I in a big rush to get somewhere and took a taxi. I saved a bundle of money. A tram ticket is 10-15 rubles, depending on which type of vehicle one rides…that’s 40-50 cents.  A taxi ride across town was 250-300 rubles.  $7-10.00.  Yeah…I’m all about the buses now.

Here’s some pictures of the transport options I had. Bear in mind, these shots were taken on a Sunday morning when the traffic was extremely light.

Okay – you get the picture, right?  So…did you catch the part about “half the time.” The other half was that annoying grain of truth that made “my way” not quite the joyous proclamation of independence Ol’ Blue Eyes sang about.  More than once, the tram stopped at a yard station and didn’t go any farther. Get off and walk or wait for another tram (how long? Who knows). Another time when I asked to be told when my stop was near, the conductor replied that she didn’t know it. She didn’t know it? Didn’t she pass by it 20 times a day? As it turned out, she was new to the route. But to her credit, she asked each  new arrival to the tram until she found someone who knew the stop. But that was one of the days the tram quit going before my stop. Get out and walk! Let’s see…another time the ticket inspector got on and didn’t find my ticket number series on her list. A going-off-shift conductor had sold it to me 30 minutes prior. There’s a big fine for trying to get by without paying for a ticket–but fortunately the new conductor remembered my face. Yes, I do stand out in the crowd somewhat. I think it’s my clothes.  And yet another time, a friend put me on a yellow gazelle that said it was going to Samarskaya…but it turned out to be Samarskaya Square…not Street. Oops. Get out and walk.

For those of you who might be thinking I was taking too many risks, rest assured that I had a cell phone in my hand at all times…that there was always someone waiting for me at the end of the line (or thereabouts)…and the routes/districts etc. were ones I had been in dozens of times.

Piece of cake, right Frank?