POSTCARD FROM ASTRAKHAN
Confluence of cultures
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At the junction of Europe, Asia and the Caucasus, Astrakhan is a truly polyglot city.
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Photo: Sudha Mahalingam
Laid-back ambience: The Astrakhan Kremlin.
ASTRAKHAN is not easy to spot on the map although it is Russia's gateway to the Caspian, replete with oil and sturgeon. Even the usually loquacious Google slows down to a slur when you ask about Astrakhan. But there used to be a time when the town was virtually a household name. Bales of silk, sacks of spices, stacks of furs, saddles, swords and bridles piled high on ponies and camels congregated in this town of caravanserais en route to markets in the Levant and beyond. Astrakhan was a key link in the ancient silk route. The infamous Golden Horde of the Mongols swept through the Volga basin and founded Astrakhan on its banks. In the 16th century, Ivan the Terrible reclaimed Astrakhan from its Muslim rulers and built an impressive Kremlin to commemorate the reinstatement of the Christian faith.
Strategically located at the junction of Europe, Asia and the Caucasus, Astrakhan, however, is a quintessential Asian town. The houses are modest, single-storeyed and unpretentious wooden structures, not the glass and chrome monsters that have mushroomed all over Russia in the last decade. Nor are there the drab Soviet-style concrete blocks that often mar the landscape. The pace of the town is relaxed and refreshing. Unlike St. Petersburg or Nizhny Novgorod, Astrakhan does not intimidate you with its dazzling architecture. The town seems so laid back that you're tempted to conclude that it is just a relic to be referred to in the past tense.
Modern face
Timur soon disabuses you of your misconceptions. Dapper and handsome, Timur is the modern face of Astrakhan. He speaks impeccable English, is suitably grave for an official and is extremely well informed. He accompanies the members of the Nikitin Expedition everywhere in Astrakhan and is eager to show us its best face. So he marches us towards Astrakhan University for a meeting with its ultra-fashionable faculty and students. We are quite taken aback to find one lady faculty member in black lace halter-stockings and heavy make-up. Hundreds of students have turned up for the meeting and we are subjected to inquisitive crossfire. The student faces are a microcosm of the ethnic diversity of Astrakhan. I scan the crowd for an Indian face, but don't find any.
Astrakhan, however, has been on the radar of many travellers in the past. Ibn Batuta, the Moroccon traveller and chronicler, visited this town in the early 14th century. Afanasy Nikitin, that intrepid Russian trader from Tver had also made a stopover in Astrakhan during his historic voyage to India. Today, the town is Russia's transit point for Beluga caviar and Caspian oil. The riverfront is dotted with ships, moors, buoys and rigs. The streets ring with a multitude of voices and languages. Home to 1.2 million people belonging to 140 nationalities, Astrakhan is truly polyglot. A quarter of its people are Muslims and the rest mostly white Russians with an occasional sprinkling of Buddhists from nearby Kalmykia. These days, Astrakhan is busy restoring its churches and mosques, which, during Soviet times had been taken over by the local administration and piled high with files and folders.
There is a new religious assertiveness about many Russian towns and we are eager to get a glimpse of it. We go in search of another mosque and are briefed by the Imam, who insists it is neither Sunni nor Shia. The mosque was built by Hazrat Wahabuddin in 1898. Even as we are chatting with him, worshippers troop past in their Sunday best. We scrutinise their faces to identify their nationalities. I try to photograph a distinguished looking, sharp-featured lad who seems camera-shy and studiously dodges my lens. The Imam whispers conspiratorially, "He is a Chechen." We learn there are many Chechens in Astrakhan.
Remains of the past
We make our way to the Indian trading yard. It survives as a mere plaque on a quiet residential street. We pay our obeisance to our enterprising forefathers who travelled all the way from Gujarat in search of wealth. They stayed on, married local women and intermingled so completely with the local population that today they are indistinguishable from the rest of the population. Our guide tells us, with a twinkle in her eye, that the Indian merchants were thrown out because they charged usurious rates of interest! Two hundred years ago, there was a perceptible Indian presence in Astrakhan. Today, the Indian connection has reinvented itself. Astrakhan is the sister-city of Ahmedabad, whatever that means. Virtually every town we visited in Russia seems to have a sister-city in India. Gujarat Chief Minister Narendra Modi had visited Astrakhan in 2006 with his entourage of 40 businessmen and traders and even signed some business deals with the local government.
Timur and his colleague insist on taking us to the Mall, their pride and joy, but we choose to go to the "White Mosque" in the Tatar quarter of the town. It is actually black and run-down and is being renovated. Astrakhanians are waiting for the restoration of their 91-odd mosques and monasteries which were converted into offices during Soviet rule. Not all of them are keen on such restoration though. The younger population has other things on their minds. Timur points out a karaoke bar frequented by stylishly dressed youngsters. He then leads us to an upmarket restaurant for lunch, but we are politely declined entry because we were not dressed formally enough to be able to dine there! We head towards another one run by Azeris.
Another Indian connection
After shuffling through the town for a while, we go into the library where we meet a professor writing a book on India based entirely on secondary material including old paintings. She has never visited India! We look at many sketches and paintings of Indian merchants and traders in turbans and long tunics. My hopes of lounging on the Caspian beach are dashed when Timur tells me it is at least a 100 kilometres away. We are only in the estuary. My glimpse of the Caspian will have to wait until we reach Baku, but the serpentine Volga is all over Astrakhan. I settle for a quiet, if cold, evening on the banks of the Volga, gazing at teals and mallards.
SUDHA MAHALINGAM
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