Russian man builds his own subway

by Jeremy Kressmann on

Building and maintaining a subway is complicated. Cities like New York and London have spent well over a hundred years creating and expanding their extensive public transport systems, spending billions of dollars in the process. None of this seems to have dissuaded Russian citizen Leonid Murlyanchik from building himself his own personal metro beneath his home since 1984.

The site English Russia provides us with an intriguing photo look inside Leonid’s strange quest to build his own one-man transportation system. The photos actually raise more questions than they answer. Why is Leonid building his own subway? Where will it take the passengers? None of that is clear. What we do know is that Leonid has paid for the construction using his pension and all construction has been approved by city permits. Leonid apparently hopes to connect the system to his neighbors as well.

Is Mr. Murlyanchik’s project a hopeless, stupid waste of time? Some would probably say yes. But those people are also missing the point. Sure, as transportation systems go, this one is a non-starter. But think of this “subway to nowhere” instead as a bizarrely wonderful work of art. The world’s greatest roadside attractions or Italian-style pink palaces rarely make logical sense. Perhaps it’s best we admire them that way – simply as projects created to inspire our awe and wonder.

Round the World in 80 Sounds: Five Tuvan Throat Singing Videos

by Jeremy Kressmann on

Musicians like rapper T-Pain might have popularized the use of auto-tune in pop music, but he’s actually not the first to alter his voice in pursuit of a good tune. In fact, a tribe of nomadic herdsmen from Tuva, a province in the furthest wilds of Russia, have been practicing a curious form of vocal chord manipulation called throat singing as far back as anyone can remember.

This unique style of crooning, also known as overtone singing, is a practice in which the singer plays with the vocal chords, resulting in a sound that covers as many as four distinct notes at the same time. To put this in perspective, your average pop star can only sing in one. How’s that for amazing? This style of singing is actually used by a variety of cultures around the world, from Sardinia in Italy to the Inuit tribes of Canada to peoples of South Africa. But it is the people of Tuva, a small province in Southern Siberia, who have gained the greatest fame for their talent with this one-of-a-kind vocal skill.

Why did this strange form of music develop? And what does it sound like? Join us as Gadling’s new music feature Round the World in 80 Sounds takes a look at five of the best Tuvan Throat Singing videos. Keep reading below…

What is Tuvan Throat Singing?
It’s believed that the strange singing style of the Tuvans is a result of their land’s unique geography. The vast windswept terrain of Southern Siberia is endless in its size and its beauty. Thus Tuvan Throat Singing is the product of these two unique factors. On one hand, the residents of this environment needed their voices to carry long distances – the singing accomplishes this, providing the greatest possible reach.

One the other hand, the Tuvans are believers in Animism, a belief system strongly rooted in nature as the source of religion. Throat Singing draws inspiration from these Animist beliefs, using voices to symbolize the forces of nature, from the winds to the water to the animals that inhabit the Tuvans’ wild homeland.

What does it sound like?
Tuvan throat singing is composed of four main sounds: the Khorekteer (chest voice), the Khoomeii (wind swirling among rocks), Sygyt (birds whistling) and Kargyraa (howling winds). Rather than trying to explain what they sound like, the best way to understand is watch. Here’s five of our favorite Tuvan Throat Singers in action.

#1 – TV feature on Throat Singing
The following travel segment provides a good video introduction to the background, history and sounds of Throat Singing.

#2 – Kongar-ol Ondar on David Letterman
Singer Kongar-ol Ondar is regarded as one of the style’s most famous practitioners, often appearing on Western TV shows to perform. Here’s a clip of Ondar from 1999 on David Letterman:

#3 – The many tones of Throat Singing
Watch as this Throat Singer performs a few of the many different tones involved in the practice. You’ll hear the remarkable range of highs, lows and growls that this style can encompass:

#4 – Live performance of “Sygyt
In this live performance of Throat Singing from the Philadelphia Folk Festival, we see artist Huun Huur Tu as he demonstrates the style Sygyt, or “whistling,” mentioned above. The rhythm and tone is hypnotic and mesmerizing to hear:

#5 – Two Throat Singers Along an Icy River
Watch these two Tuvans as they howl away, set against the backdrop of an swift-moving river choked with chunks of ice. Much like the art of Tuvan Throat Singing it’s at once starkly beautiful, and wildly exotic:

Explore the Tuman Triangle

by Tom Johansmeyer on

If you’re going to travel all the way across the Pacific, you want to make your trip to Asia worth it. The latest package from Koryo Tours is designed to do this, exposing you to three countries, three cultures and three time zones in one shot. From June 30 to July 10, 2010, a small group (only 20 spots are available) will be able to explore the “Tuman” Triangle.”

From Beijing, you’ll head out for Yanji in northeastern China, your gateway to North Korea. Across the river, you’ll visit the Rajin-Sonbong free trade zone before crossing into the North Korean city of Chongin and the nearby Chilbo mountains. Your next stop is Russia, to which you’ll travel by train, followed by a boat trip to Vladivostok. Finally, the trip ends with a flight back to Beijing, which you’ll tour your for a while (details are available at Koryo Tours).

Need to experience a new side of Asia? This is the way to do it: three unique cultures in one amazing trip.

Hop on the Stalin bus!

by Sean McLachlan on

A lot of visitors to Russia like seeing some Soviet-era nostalgia, but old monuments and ugly apartment blocs now have to compete with the latest kitsch–a bus painted with the likeness of Soviet leader Joseph Stalin.

The bus is the initiative of Stalinist blogger Viktor Loginov, who raised money for the project in order to celebrate the upcoming anniversary of the victory over Nazi Germany. The 65th anniversary of the surrender of Nazi forces is on May 9.

The bus may not make it to the celebration, however, as it has already been vandalized once.

Loginov says he only wants to celebrate Stalin’s role in defeating Hitler, but human rights activists are appalled at seeing the Soviet leader’s face on the streets of St. Petersburg. Stalin was the leader of the Soviet Union during World War Two and was instrumental in destroying the German army. American war propaganda fondly referred to him as “Uncle Joe”. Stalin killed millions of his own people by sending them to gulags, torture chambers, or, in the case of a rebellious Ukraine, starving an entire province into submission. While the exact number of his victims will never be known, some historians say he killed more people than Hitler. The Stalin bus highlights how today’s Russia is of two minds about its tumultuous past.

Trade Mocked

by Andrew Evans on

You were a cheerleader, you dated a cheerleader, or you hated the cheerleaders. As I recall, that’s how high school worked.

Thanks to travel PR, that same primeval paradigm lives on long after graduation. That miniskirts-shouting-slogans thing still works, whether you’re a used car salesman, Miley Cyrus on VH1 or the tourist board of a small Balkan nation. When it comes to selling your destination in today’s busy world of busy people, a country’s name just isn’t enough–just like school spirit, you need colors, a pep band, a mascot, a brand and most important–a cheer.

It’s tragic but true: tourist boards don’t trust their country’s name to inspire appropriate thoughts in your brain. Toponyms are too open-ended and too untrustworthy–also, way too obvious. For example, what’s the first thing that pops into your head when I say . . . Monte Carlo? How about Australia? The Bahamas? Kuwait? The Gambia?

Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not enough. Tourist boards want you to choose their destination over all others, then allocate all of your vacation days to them and then come spend your money on very specific things–like miniature golf by the sea or hot air balloon rides across the prairie. In short, they want your school spirit so much they’re churning out cheers to fill up all the Swiss cheese holes in your mental map of the world.

Like a good cheer, a good destination slogan is simple and so memorable it sticks in your head like two-sided tape. Sex sells, but then so does love: “Virginia is for Lovers”, Hungary offers visitors “A Love for Life”, Albania promises “A New Mediterranean Love”, while the highlighted “I feel Slovenia” spells out sweetly “I Feel Love”. Meanwhile, Bosnia & Herzegovina call themselves “the Heart Shaped Land” and Denmark’s logo is a red heart with a white cross. Colombia and Dubai have red hearts in their logo. Everybody else uses sunshine.
There is a direct correlation between sunshine deprivation and travelers with disposable income–sunny places sell, which is why Maldives is “the Sunny Side of Life”, Sicily says “Everything else is in the shade”, Ethiopia quizzically boasts “13 Months of Sunshine”, Portugal is “Europe’s West Coast”, and Spain used to be “Everything Under the Sun”. Spain was also the first country ever to have a logo-the splashy red sun painted by Joan Miró in 1983. Some destination logos work–like the black and red “I LOVE NY” design of Milton Glaser that’s been around ever since the 70s. Others fail to grasp the spirit of a place (cough, Italia). Reducing one’s country to a crazy font and some cheesy clip art often detracts from that country’s best assets. Like nature.

When chasing the crunchy yuppie granola suburbanite dollar on vacation, you’ve gotta roll out Nature and promise them the kind of purity that lacks from their daily life. British Virgin Islands claims “Nature’s Little Secrets” while Belize counterclaims with “Mother Nature’s Best Kept Secret”. Switzerland urges us to “Get Natural”, Poland is “The Natural Choice”, Iceland is “Pure, Natural, Unspoiled”, Ecuador is Life in a Pure State, “Pure Michigan” is just as pure, Costa Rica is “No Artificial Ingredients”, and like a clothing tag that makes you feel good, New Zealand is simply “100% Pure”. New Zealand also wants us to believe that they’re the “youngest country on earth” but that’s pushing it. The youngest country on earth is actually Kosovo (Born February 2008)–so young they’re still working on their slogan.

And there’s a tough one–how do you sell a country that’s just poking its head out from under the covers of war and bloodshed? Kosovo’s big bad next-door neighbor Serbia asks us frankly to “Take a New Look at Your Old Neighbor”; “It’s Beautiful–It’s Pakistan” steers clear of the conflict, Colombia owns up to its knack for kidnapping by insisting, “The Only Risk is Wanting to Stay”, and Vietnam nudges our memories away from the past and towards “The Hidden Charm” of today.

Our nostalgia for simpler, better, pre-tourist times invokes our most romantic notions about travel: Croatia is “The Mediterranean as it Once Was”, Tahiti consists of “Islands the Way they Used to Be”, and Bangladesh employs a kind of reverse psychology to insist we “Come to Bangladesh, Before the Tourists.” Such slogans of unaffectedness mirror the push for national validation by tourism, where actual authenticity is second to perceived authenticity, hence Malaysia is “Truly Asia”, Zambia is “The Real Africa”, and the Rocky Mountain States make up “The Real America”. Greece is “The True Experience” and Morocco is “Travel For Real”. Everybody wants to be legit.

Countries without the certified organic label try merely to stupefy us: Israel “Wonders”, Germany is “Simply Inspiring”, Chile is “Always Surprising”, Estonia is “Positively Surprising”, “Amazing Thailand” amazes, and Dominica claims to “Defy the Everyday”. To that same surprising end, Latin America loves trademarking their exclamation points (see ¡Viva Cuba!, Brazil’s one-word essay “Sensational!” and El Salvador’s “Impressive!”)

Where punctuated enthusiasm falls short, countries might confront the traveler with a challenge or a dare. Jamaica projects the burden of proof on its tourists by claiming “Once You Go You Know”, Peru asks that we “Live the Legend”, Canada insists we “Keep Exploring”, South Africa answers your every question with a smiley “It’s Possible”. Meanwhile, Greenland sets an impossibly high bar with “The Greatest Experience”.

Working the totality of a country’s experience into a good slogan is a challenge that often leads to open-ended grandstanding: “It’s Got to be Austria” might be the answer to any question (and sounds better when spoken with an Austrian accent). Next-door Slovakia is the “Little Big Country”, insisting that size is second to experience. Philippines offers “More than the Usual” and small, self-deprecating Andorra confesses, “There’s Just So Much More” (I think what they meant to say is, “come back please”). Really big numbers carries the thought even further: Papua New Guinea is made up of “A Million Different Journeys”; Ireland brightens with “100,000 Welcomes”.

When all else fails, aim for easy alliteration, as in “Enjoy England“, “Incredible India“, “Mystical Myanmar”, and the “Breathtaking Beauty” of Montenegro. (For more on the correlation between simplistic phrases and high mental retention, See Black Eyed Peas-Lyrics).

The point of all this is that today, the internet is our atlas and Google is our guidebook. It’s how we travel, how we think about travel and how we plan our travel. Punch in a country like Tunisia and you’re greeted with a dreamy curly-cue phrase like “Jewel of the Mediterranean”–Type in next-door neighbor Algeria and you get a glaring State Department warning saying “Keep Away.” In a scramble for those top ten search results, destinations compete with a sea of digital ideas that pre-define their tourist appeal. It’s why we’ll never find that page proclaiming Iran “The Land of Civilized and Friendly People” but why a simple “Dubai” turns up Dubai Tourism in first place, along with their moniker “Nowhere Like Dubai” (which should win some kind of truth in advertising prize.)

That aggressive, American-style marketing has taken over the billion-dollar travel industry is obvious. Nobody’s crying over the fact that we sell destinations like breakfast cereal–that countries need a bigger and brighter box with a promised prize inside in order to lull unassuming tourist shoppers into stopping, pulling it off the shelf, reading the back and eventually sticking it in their cart. I guess the sad part is how the whole gregarious exercise limits travel and the very meaning of travel. By boiling down a country into some bland reduction sauce of a slogan, we cancel out the diversity of experience and place, trade wanderlust for jingoism, and turn our hopeful worldview into a kind of commercial ADHD in which we suddenly crave the Jersey Shore like a kid craves a Happy Meal.

Nobody’s ever asked me to join their tourist board focus group, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have my own opinions and tastes. For instance, my daily reality is a stereo cityscape of car alarms and jackhammers. Any country that simply placed the word “Quiet” or “Peaceful” in lower-case Times New Roman, 24-point font white type in the upper right hand corner of a double-truncated landscape spread–well, I’d be there in a heartbeat. Better yet–how about a one-minute TV commercial of total silence. (“Oh, wow honey, look!–that’s where I wanna go.”)

This is probably why I’ve never been in a focus group. For all the focus on authenticity and reality, I find most tourism slogans lacking in both. For the most part, they are limiting and unoriginal, easily dropped into any of the above categories. Even worse, today’s slogans challenge actual truths gained through travel experience. One day spent in any place offers a lifetime of material for long-lasting personal travel slogans. My own favorites include Russia (“Still Cold”), Turkey (“Not Really Europe At All”), England (“Drizzles Often”), Orlando (“Cheesy as Hell”), and Ireland (“Freakin’ Expensive”).

As a writer, I must argue against the cheerleaders and in favor of words–the more words we attach to a destination the better the sell. I think it’s safe to assume that Bruce Chatwin’s In Patagonia has done more for Argentina tourism than any of their own slogans. Similarly, Jack London gives props to Alaska, Mark Twain mystifies us with the Mississippi, and Rudyard Kipling keeps sending people to India. All four authors wrote about love, nature, and sunshine. They wrote long books filled with enthusiasm and punctuated with exclamation marks. They made us fall in love and yearn for places we never saw or knew.

No matter how many millions get spent on tourist slogans, today’s trademarked PR phraseology has generally failed to hit the mark. Perhaps they’ll make us rethink a place–reconsider a country we’d somehow looked over, but can a two or three word slogan ever touch us in that tender way, make us save up all our money, pack our bags and run away?

I don’t think so.