Sunday, April 6 Munayshy

The first night always takes some getting used to, the noises, the wind and the rain. But the tent withstood it, in the lowest place ever, 100 metres below sea level. We start by climbing out of the lowlands. We find nature much more interesting than expected with the white cliffs. Just after noon, we spot a porch in front of a small shop. There we will have our lunch. The young boy behind the counter on his mobile phone doesn't mind. The shelves in the shop are half empty. Every now and then, someone passes by. Sometimes something is bought, but more often not because 'they don't have it'. A white Landcruiser stops. A man and woman with bags full of stuff get out, the boy's parents. Baktsyan introduces himself and tells us to go inside as it is far too cold to cycle. His wife conjures up two sandwiches and warms them up in the microwave. We get hot coffee. We have to roll the bikes around the buildings to the back, where Baktsyan opens a large sliding door to give us access to a large walled courtyard. The floor is old concrete which is cracked and crumbling. There is an old rusty carcass of a car. Baktsyan leads us to a two-storey building in the courtyard behind the shop. They turn out to be rooms. He lets us into one of the rooms. An electric radiator is glowing. We can rest. I sit in the courtyard in the sun while Wen takes a nap. 'After work we go home and have dinner together,' Baktsyan says. At six o'clock we join them in the Landcruiser to the house where his mother turns out to live. An overweight woman sitting on the bed with the wheelchair beside her. We have to take a picture with her. Baktsyan jumps on the bed behind us to be photographed too. The daughter-in-law escorts us to a separate room where she puts down two mattresses with thick pillows. They are all old houses. The wooden floors move when you walk across them. They are covered with worn canvas and large rugs. The wallpaper is peeling off along the seams. Doors close badly, leaky spots in the ceiling, half the lamps are broken, the heating pipes are fist-thick and the radiators pre-war. There is a 50-year-old central heating boiler burning in the shower. It still works fine and gas apparently costs nothing because it's boiling hot in the house. The window frames are made of plastic and are well sealed, so there is no draught in the house, despite the strong wind. It is as if the government has made incentive arrangements for this. At seven o'clock, a low homemade table is set up in the room next to us with a plastic rug on it. Mother is rolled in in the wheelchair and hoist hereself into an armchair. We are invited to sit on the floor at the table. The daughter-in-law puts food on the table, we get tea and a cup of stuffed soup, there are salads on the table. Baktsyan starts eating, we have to eat too. Baktsyan leaves, he goes to the shop which is open until midnight. His wife and daughter-in-law come and sit at the table. Pilav with a chicken leg is served. We had not seen that one coming, we are already fairly full. The pilav is made with risotto and carrot, delicious. Then young men trickle in. Three eat at the table and three sit waiting on the bench. The daughter-in-law serves the boys. The boy who was in the shop comes in. The boys say something to him and bellowing, he leaves the room. We did not see him again. The daughter-in-law has two little sons. After dinner, her eldest son fiddles with the wheelchair. He puts it on its side and climbs on, but falls off. He has to cry. His father pats him on the head for not messing with the wheelchair. Mother in the armchair laughs at this and Baktsyan's wife tenderly picks up the child from the floor and comforts it. When father, at daughter-in-law's prompting, puts on the youngest son's shoes, that child too starts crying. The daughter-in-law takes the children to their own home. And then suddenly all the men are gone too. We are left with Baktsyan’s wife and mother. We watch an old Russian soap serie on the big TV screen for an hour and a half. Around 11 o'clock, mother is rolled into her room and we retire to our room. An extraordinary experience richer .