to move up and down
I’m translating a book about the Caucasus. This will be my soundtrack for the next two weeks.
Deep within the Post-Soviet space, a public transportation system of mythical proportions (and one that virtually breaks any and all safety code violations known to the West) exists on pot-hole riddled, yet beautiful picturesque roads.
It glides up and down streets, blasting the most awesomely bad play list of Armenian, Russian and Eastern European songs, filled to the brim with mothers carrying their children, brothers with ring tones heard in the clubs of Eastern Europe and babushka grandmothers carrying fresh groceries from the fruit and vegetable market. Sometimes white, sometimes not, the Marshutka or (Marshrutka) literally meaning “routed taxicab” is complete with dilapidated seats, peeling floor boards and smells so pungent you won’t know what hit you. But through sun, rain or snow, it eventually ends up taking you where you need to go and costs anywhere from 25 to 50 cents, so don’t complain, not too much anyway. Read more about what it takes to ride a marshutka and see photos I took this summer while I tackled them myself here: Marshutka Fever: Public Transport, Caucasus Style
The greatest thing about the маршрутка: you always get your change back, even if it has to pass through half a dozen hands.
