The JaYmes Escape

“Dobrae Utro”, (Good Morning) I say? confidently to the floor attendant as I hand her my key, “Dobrae Utra“, she replies firmly but politely? as she passes over my guest card and returns to her book. I like to think I’m getting the hang of this Russian thing but the difference between when to use a? or o is so far lost on me; I think its partly a dialect thing -? perhaps she was correcting me like I might correct a? non-native English speaker? saying “Tomaydo” or “Yoegirt”.

I’m staying in the Buryatia, a? big Soviet-era monster of a hotel in the town of Ulan-Ude, just to the east of Lake Baikal.? Buryatia is the name of the local semi-autonomous region, home to the Buryats, an asian race indigenous to the area. It is an unexpected and fascinating mix of cultures - on the one hand an enormous Lenin head, apparently the largest in the world,? sits in the centre of Ploschad Sovetov, the main square, but on the other hand the streets are full of smiling Asian faces and a local museum is full of intriging local Buddhist relics.

The hotel is? a model of Soviet-era efficiency. A seperate attendant sits at a desk on each floor, all twelve of them, 24 hours a day,? and their? sole? task, aside from correcting foreigners’ Russian, seems to be to swap keys for cards as guests enter or leave the floor. This arrangement is not uncommon in Russia. Today’s attendant on my floor, the eleventh, is otherwise? reading a book. Yesterday’s was watching a TV she’d pulled out of one of the rooms, but to be fair, it’s hardly an exciting job and I do suspect the pay is truly pitiful. Still, as I stand? in the rattly old lift on? my way down to the lobby I can’t help but wonder what that big head down the road would actually? have thought? of it all.