Random memories from 1967

Posted on behalf of Carla Borden 

The Lipson Tour to the USSR in the summer of 1967

En route to the USSR we ate lots of bread, sausage, and cheese and became sick of them. I do remember cold fruit soup in Poland, though, and in Yalta we were thrilled to find fresh fruit. In Moscow Jerry Nearhood (see below) took the initiative to feed us, shopping at the foreign currency store and at state stores. I helped him. It was impossible to plan menus, of course, because one never knew what would be available in the stores, and so the job could be tedious. I don’t recall any arrangements made beforehand for what/how the group would eat; on the other hand, we must have been provided with money to purchase food, indicating advance planning at some level. Jerry and I seemed not to mind shopping too much, since it gave us an excuse to take the Metro into Red Square nearly every day and marvel at St. Basil’s. My appearance was always commented upon critically in the Metro: your skirt is too short, don’t put your purse on the floor, etc. Otherwise passengers all seemed to be sullenly reading books. Kiev Station was very colorful, with lots of folks from Central Asia. Sometimes we would go to a hotel for a meal, and even get waited on after making a fuss.

We spent a night in the truck parked at the US Embassy in Warsaw. While in Poland, we made a pilgrimage to Auschwitz. Driving through Krakow in the dark made us think WWII had just ended—we kept seeing what looked like bullet holes in buildings.

Czech border guards refused to let us pass until one member of the group (Bill Bown), who had a full beard, shaved it off to match his passport photo. They gave him a straight razor and a bowl of cold water. Stops in Czechoslovakia included Marienbad and Carlsbad.

Dick Kindleberger, son of noted economist Charels Kindleberger, was in the group, as was Jerry Nearhood, who later became a physician. Both are deceased. I don’t recall any other full names except David Borker. He brought a large supply of clean button-down shirts; he wore one until it was dirty enough, then tossed it and unwrapped another. I was the youngest participant.

Marla had relations during the trip with our Intourist guide, and that made me, at least, uncomfortable. Don’t know whether she and Bill stayed together.

As I wrote earlier, the trip wasn’t exactly fun. Nevertheless, it was an invaluable reality check and superb preparation for my later travels in Yugoslavia, India, and Cuba particularly.

If any of these observations are of wider interest, please feel free to post them. Other travelers had similar experiences, I’m sure. What was unique about our trip—and what unfortunately I can’t cast much light on—is that the country was gearing up for its 50^th anniversary. There were plenty of banners on view, but what else was being painted/built/repaired/cleared out? What was being written and said? I wish I could have been there with the old eyes I have now.

Thank you so much for replying to my post and giving me another opportunity to share pieces of the past. It’s wonderful to be in touch!!

 

Carla