Russia Through Vietnamese Eyes: From Overnight Trains to Vietnamese Footprints

For Trương Thị Bích Hạnh, Russia began in a schoolbook, in Alexei Tolstoy’s short story “Russian Character.” Years later, the historian and lecturer from Hanoi set out to see what remained of that image beyond the pages of books.

From July 21 to August 2, Hạnh traveled through several Russian cities with her husband and a group of friends. She did not view the journey as an ordinary holiday. It was a chance to compare a picture of Russia formed over many years with the country she encountered in everyday life.

Her first answer came aboard an overnight train from Moscow to Kazan. A Russian woman helped her arrange her luggage, showed her how to use the equipment, brought her water and prepared a blanket, even though the two women shared almost no common language. The woman also gave Hạnh a magazine. Unable to read Russian, Hạnh studied the pictures and used a translation tool to understand the contents. The woman’s young daughter, wearing two braids, even gave up part of her berth so Hạnh could place her belongings there.

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In my memory over many years, Russian character remained all the beautiful things in the pages of that book from my childhood.

On another train journey lasting about 16 hours, Hạnh traveled with a Russian father and child. When they were not sleeping, the pair played crossword puzzles and sudoku. Before the train arrived, the father showed the child how to tidy the luggage, blankets and pillows. These small gestures brought back the Russia Hạnh had encountered in books and films. “In a foreign country, with a stranger speaking a foreign language, I felt as if I were being cared for the way my mother cared for me,” she said.

Moscow carried its own layers of memory: the film Moscow Does Not Believe in Tears, accounts of Napoleon and the Great Patriotic War. Her first impression of Sheremetyevo Airport was cramped and dark, but a summer rainbow seen from her hotel window quickly changed her mood. The city then opened up through art-filled metro stations, libraries, secondhand bookshops and monuments to scientists, writers and artists.

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In a foreign country, with a stranger speaking a foreign language, I felt as if I were being cared for the way my mother cared for me.