Train as an identity

The dream, that you are behind the train and cannot catch up with it, familiar to many. In Russia, which has a huge territory, the railroad is the main mode of transportation. A trip can take any time from a few hours to several days. One becomes well acquainted with the fellow-passengers, especially in the open layout carriage. So much so that after some time you begin to feel as you belong there.

Another source of the metaphor, is the bond with our peers, when as teenagers we prepare ourselves for entering the adult life. I remember the terror from the thought that I would need to work from 8 to 5 every day for rest of my life (anything after 40 years old was not considered a life anymore). To avoid that awful condition, one had to occupy a privileged position in life, able to protect from the dull routine. We jealously watched each other, afraid to be left behind and miss out on some extraordinary opportunity. We lived in the country of equal opportunities, after all. But statistically – we realized as much – it was clear that only a few of us would be able to reach any special position, while the others would remain in the world of ordinary drudgery.

There was also a fear to break away from the group. To have your own opinion, we felt, was a prerequisite for a special status. But a group of teens is unforgiving bunch. Just try to do something without their approval. They may throw you out of the group in no time. It was scary to start acting alone, without an approval of the others. So, we continued riding the same train.

The last, but not the least important, a group provides for the identification of the individual. How can a teenager (and actually many adults as well) answer the question, who are you? The typical answer includes an occupation, the list of friends and personal achievements. Occupation was the same for all group members – a student. None of us had particular personal achievements to provide for a clear break from the crowd. So, the group belonging was the only differentiation.

Yet, inevitably comes the time when one has to stand on his own and to make his own mistakes.

I remember how, during my first outing in Kazakhstan, I found myself in the midst of an endless expanse of prairie. I was utterly overwhelmed by the silence and the sense of eternity. I suddenly felt as if I was the only one alive on the entire planet. That was when I started to break away on my own.

Eventually, after falling and bruising myself several times, I – lucky me! – have not drowned and learned to navigate somehow in the sea of life.

Now I gather again – one by one – the company of friends. They too had been forced to strike on their own. I hope that we continue swimming together (or riding a train, if you will), without competing, but with understanding and helping each other.

That’s why I am writing.

Doctor: “What seems to be the problem?” Patient: “I think, I am a dog.” Doctor: “All right. Please, lie down on the couch.” Patient: “I am not allowed on the couch.”