I took a brief jog over to Irkutsk this weekend with my dad, who is visiting. On the way there, the train car we were in was full of Army boys heading home after their year of service. On the way back, the car was full of Army boys on their way to Moscow to begin their year of service.

One of the things I like most about train travel in Russia is how close you are forced to be with the people around you. You have to share space, you often end up sharing food, and a lot of times you end up sharing lots of personal information about yourself just because there is nothing to do but chat.

Being in the car with the army boys made me feel like I was in on someone else's pivotal life moment. One of the boys unexpectedly ran into a girl that he knew. She didn't know he was heading off to the army for a year. He kept asking her where she was going, and all she would answer was "to visit someone," he finally got her to say to what city exactly she was going, but even then she wouldn't tell him who she was visiting. She asked the boy if he had gotten married and he said "No, she's waiting for me." I heard a story like this recently that ended with the soldier returning only to hand back to the girl, who had been waiting for him for a year, all the letters she had written him, and then leave without explaining anything.

It just seemed strangely intense that about ten minutes ago he had said good bye to this girl, and now here he was speeding off towards Moscow, there she was watching the train disappear at the Irkutsk train station, and here I was knowing all about it.