Lost in dreams of Lake Baikal

Thread Content

This post was last edited by Yaoqin on 2017-8-27 at 22:41. With Li Jian’s gentle and delicate singing, it’s easy to imagine that it’s a place bathed in the warmth of spring, with lush green grass; the moonlight makes the lovers even more beautiful, and love fills the surface of Lake Baikal. But it was only when I actually visited Lake Baikal that I realized its beauty is not just as gentle as described in the lyrics; it is also delicate and serene. 　　I happily welcomed the only holiday I’ve had in almost two years; after purchasing Huatai visa insurance, I rushed off to Lake Baikal right away. 　　On the night before heading to Lake Baikal, at 10 p.m. I finally finished arranging all my work, packed up my computer and went home to pack my bags, then headed straight to the airport to pick up Yi Xiaowu’s flight. At 3 a.m. at the airport, the two of us sat in Starbucks, wearing several layers of down jackets and sweaters, drinking iced tea; we were as hot as two small dumplings in a steamer, with steam rising from us. 　　Departing from Beijing in the early morning, as darkness gave way to a hint of crimson in the east, most of the passengers on the plane were fast asleep in the faint light of dawn. As the plane was about to land, beneath the sky, at the boundary between heaven and earth, there was a band of white clouds that resembled both clouds and snow. It was still not fully light outside; the entire city was covered in snow, while orange street lights illuminated Irkutsk. The airport had a somewhat desolate atmosphere, offering a feeling that was both cold and warm at the same time. It’s snowing heavily here, yet there’s a sense of warmth and vitality in the air. After a five-hour journey through vast uninhabited areas and forests filled with fir and pine trees, we finally arrived on the shores of Lake Baikal. 　　Ten people got off the minibus in front of our newly booked guesthouse, Nikita. Across from the guesthouse is a long street, with mountains and forests at its end; a sliver of sunset hangs in the sky, and there are trucks with round eyes in front of the small cottages. Everything in sight, except for the ice and snow, is painted in cute colors: ice blue, mint green, chocolate brown, and warm yellow. I must say that the color scheme of each little cabin is so beautiful that it reminds me of those from textbooks; this people’s sense of aesthetics regarding colors is truly amazing. 　　During my six days in Russia, these simple artistic creations could be seen everywhere; there were handmade items throughout daily life, and original paintings bearing signatures were often visible on the streets and in various corners of the hotels. 　　From past experiences, hotels costing around a thousand yuan often have beautiful views, as well as complete L’Occitane toiletries ； A standard room costing a few hundred yuan comes with neat white bed sheets and is clean and tidy. And all of this gives me a different feeling from what I experienced here; it’s a small cabin with a yard that doesn’t even provide slippers. It’s only a few square meters in size, yet every aspect of it reminds you that it’s warm like a home, with every detail having been carefully thought out to create what it is today. 　　This is what touches me the most here: the patience put into handmade work, the patience in living. Everyone is inevitably driven by money or profit, but ultimately it is for the sake of living that we do these things. We may be greedy or impetuous, but there is no room for carelessness in life. 　　Before leaving, I bought a red handmade doll of a Russian mother holding five babies. I’m taking it back to give to a good friend who has always wanted to have a baby; I hope this Russian \"Goddess of Children\" will help her make her dream come true in 2017. 　　The starry sky over Lake Baikal and the Shaman Stone. A military-green bus with a high chassis carried us through the primitive forests, racing across the snowfields and over the plains. 　　The morning sun casts a rose-gold hue on the distant blue snow-capped mountains, while the tender yellow grass in the vicinity contrasts with the pristine white snow. In between lies a vast lake, colored ice blue. The world is so vast, yet it can be this wonderfully beautiful. On the cliffs by the lake here, there are orange-colored lichen patches; some are green as well. Against the backdrop of the blue ice lake, these colors create a truly primitive and stunning beauty. 　　In such a place, it seems even love possesses a resolute intensity, driven by determination and without regard for anything else. The endless lake, its bottom unfathomable, the frozen surface of the lake – half a century later, I’ve come to watch over him for you, Anna. 　　On the final night after completing the north route, Xiao Wu and I crossed a small hill to go and see the two friends we had met along the way; after eating their pickled cucumbers and ham at their home, we left satisfied and set off back home across the hill. 　　Taking advantage of the occasional snowflakes falling at night, we slowly made our way back to Nikita from the other side of the mountain. Without having to look up, we could see the stars shining on the horizon. By reaching the ridge, we were able to overlook the entire village; the orange lights intertwined with the stars in the sky, and it felt as though our hearts warmed up. 　　That night, we, along with another couple and a Chinese student studying in Russia, went back to the shaman stone in the middle of the night to watch the starry sky. On the cliff top, where the lake breeze was brisk and the sky was filled with stars, I think I will always remember this scene: in a foreign land, cold and quiet. 　　Coming to the shores of Lake Baikal, I feel my whole body and mind relax. Although life is full of trivialities and troubles, in the face of that world covered in snow and ice, all those worries vanish with the wind. By calming my mind, I am ready to embark on a new journey.