Hard Traveling to Capture Famed Siberian Shaman -
(Character-building while traveling) by David L. Brown

I'm writing this as we prepare to take off from Moscow's Sheremetievo Airport, homeward bound after 16 days that seemed like 16 weeks. Ten of those days were spent filming my friend and subject, drummer Barbara Borden, participating in an extraordinary workshop on ecology-based shamanism and sacred places in breathtakingly beautiful southwestern Siberia in the Russian republic of Khakassia. This footage will be part of "Keeper of the Beat," my feature-length doc on Barbara's life and music.

Three of those travel days were spent chasing lost luggage - including video gear - a situtation that arose when a massive 90-minute thunderstorm in Atlanta caused me to miss my connecting flight to Moscow, and to join a 4-hour line of other unfortunate travelers who also missed their connections. After enduring that grueling line, I was re-routed to London where I would catch a flight to Moscow. Of course, my luggage didn't make that flight, and, in London, the Delta lost luggage folks told me it was still in Atlanta. Eight hours later, in a Heathrow Holiday Inn, I was informed that my luggage was now in Moscow. Having dealt with Russian bureaucrats during a 1990 shoot, I sensed a likely bout of "character-building" to come. Remembering Kafka's vision of cruel, heartless bureaucracy, I bought a new pair of underwear and caught the next flight to Moscow.

I was met in Moscow by Igor, a Russian travel coordinator I had booked to drive me the 40 miles to Vnukovo, another Moscow airport, where I would catch a plane to Abakan, Khakassia. Of course, I immediately drafted him to help navigate the airport bureaucracy and find my lost luggage. We headed to the main lost luggage storage facility, a cavernous space filled with countless lost suitcases and boxes. Lit by a single bare bulb, it felt a bit like a surreal depository of lost souls. The woman in charge - straight from central casting for Kafka's "The Trial" - informed us she had absolutely no idea where the luggage could be as there was no computer there. Furthermore, she had no idea where a computer with lost luggage information might be found or who might know anything that could remotely help. I asked if I could photograph her. "Nyet!" she responded huffily. "I am not an animal in a zoo!" "Welcome to Moscow," Igor said with a smile.

Our next step was the Delta desk which, at that time - 7 a.m. - was closed for another two hours. An official at the help desk near the luggage claim area told us without a shred of sympathy that he couldn't help us because I had left the baggage claim area. A series of other officials spent a great deal of time speaking condescendingly while noticably raising Igor's level of frustration. He remained tenacious and undeterred. I shutter to imagine how I would have fared without him with my ten words of Russian. "Dobraye utra, and spaciba for all the help, folks" After the Delta help desk opened, their slightly more helpful staff spent about an hour on the phone and the computer before identifying the likely location of my luggage. Finally, a woman arrived to escort us to an area with about 200 pieces of luggage. To my great relief, my three pieces were there. But, of course, there was the paperwork remaining to be completed, and that took nearly an hour with a series of scowling "Kafkaesque" bureaucrats.

Igor then took me to the Vnukovo airport where I had a double Russian vodka to celebrate the reunion with my luggage. En route to that drink, I was struck by the hundreds of slick, giant billboards on the Moscow freeways for Panasonic, BMV and perfume, and how much more affluent, attractive and colorful Moscow looked than during my last visit in 1990.

In Abakan, the charming, tree-lined capital of Khakassia (population: 200,000), I was met by Barbara and Suzanne, bass player, who had been performing to great acclaim with the group Fool's Gold in a Spirit of the Earth music, art and puppet festival. After checking into the hotel, we met the local filmmakers who had filmed the performance and went scouting locations for filming two group encounters that afternoon - Barbara's band meeting with Sergei, the local drummaker who makes beautiful Siberian shaman drums, and with Tatiana, our shaman and soon-to-be our guide for the eco-shamanism-adventure. In scouting, I was driven 30 miles from town by another Igor, one of the filmmakers, to a famous pair of kurgans - large, vertical stones, sometimes in pairs, sometimes in groups or lines of 8 to 10, similar to Stonehenge, that appear regularly throughout Khakassia. Usually burial grounds, many kurgans have been visited as sacred sites for over 3,500 years.

This kurgan location was on a plateau with superb views of mountains and steppe for 360 degrees. The site was very powerful visually and was clearly a sacred spot with ribbons and offerings. Curiously, this stiking and powerfully spiritual location was to be the last ritual site of the 10-day shamanic journey. But it was too far a drive for our subjects that afternoon, so we returned to Abakan where we found a lovely location on a mound next to tall green grass overlooking the Abakan River. There we filmed the band playing and learning about Sergei's shaman drums, and then learning about Tatiana's unique brand of shamanism. With Igor on the boom mic and Ira translating, the discussion was lively and wonderful. Violinist and vocalist, Lucia Comnes, had an especiallly affectionate interaction and song-sharing with Tatiana as they had bonded two summers earlier when Lucia attending the shaman workshop. The lovely magic hour light was soft and golden when we wrapped at 8:30 (sunset at 9:30) and headed back to the hotel for beers and dinner. My first day of shooting in Siberia had included a lovely 90-minute drive to a beautiful and sacred place and two hours of filming excellent interaction in another beautiful spot - an impressive success for a starter, I felt.

The next day, Barbara and I bid fond farewell to the lovely members of "Fool's Gold" and began our shamanic journey with Tatiana, a hereditary shaman (her grandfather was killed for praticing shamanism under Stalin). We met her and the workshop participants, all professional women from Moscow, over lunch. We then had a guided tour of the Abakan Museum, introducing us to Khakassian history, culture and archaeology, then were driven in two vans the four hours to Tatiatian's family's lovely mountain yurt village of Malaya Suia on the Biele Ius (White) River. As we drove, the landscape changed from rolling steppe (green plains with plateaus) to increasing larger hills, rocky plateaus to foothills with many lakes to large wooded mountains with spectacular river canyons. To quote "Fool's Gold'" member Lucia Comnes, "If you can imagine taking the best of Ireland's green fields, adding the majestic and dramatically carved slopes that line the Norwegian fiords or the summer foothills of the Swiss Alps, then add the lush and splendid softness of the Hawaiian islands, you have a general sense of this special land." I would add a mention of the dozens of delightfully weathered and picturesque villages with many sumptuous gardens, countless herds of horses, cattle and goats, often blocking the road. I repeatedly asked our driver to slow down or stop for a shot. It was stunning sight after stunning site for the nature-loving cameraman.

Our camp of six yurts - sleeping three to six each - was located right on the river in a box canyon surrounded by large rocky mountains. The setting was truly spectacular, reminded me of Telluride, and hinted of the even larger Altai Mountain 150 miles to the west. We ate heathy, plentiful meals in a large tent adjoining the cooking tent that had a gas stove. The first night after dinner, Barbara presented Tatiana with a beautiful gift, a shaman drum that she had loved and played for years. Created and painted by a Native American drummaker, it had been signed by over 100 of Barbara's friends who had contributed to the cost of the Siberia trip. Tatiana was very moved by this gift, calling the drum "the best possible gift for a shaman." Fighting tears, she said whenever she played it she would think of Barbara and all those who were so kind to think of her. This was the beginning of the touching sisterly bonding Barbara and Tatiana experienced with each other.

We bathed each morning in the brisk river before breakfast, then usually had a Tatiana lecture-presentation on a variety of topics (from local archaeology to love relationships to healing physical and emotional problems) before exercise. I did witness a demonstration of her shamanic power, several times. The first was when she talked about summoning the spirits which bring up the wind. As she moved her hands, a strong breeze picked up. Later, we all would witness her healing prowess on participants' bodies, necks, shoulders, inner organs - truly a strong demonstration of her Reiki-like healing power. My camera recorded a woman's posture dramatically re-aligning after Tatiana's hands had massaged her aura, or adjusted her energy field without actually touching her body.

Each day, Tatiana and her driver, Vasali, would drive us in the van (over very rough roads) to three to five beautiful and sacred places: rivers, mountains, lakes, caves and significant petroglyphs. Often, we'd leave camp at 2:00 p.m. and return near midnight. One petroglyph sequence, located on rocks high above the green steppe, was the earliest known depiction of the creation story. Twice, we were joined on these outings by Khakassian archeologists to show and explain various petroglyphs and other rock carvings. The cave experience was especially profound, particularly when we turned off all our head lamps and Tatiana chanted an otherworldly chant in total darkness. Unfortunately, it was too wet and slippery to bring the video camera down into the cave.

Another very moving sacred place was Sanduki Mountain with a spectacular 360 degree view from the top and a fascinating legendary history. It was a challenge to haul the camera bag and tripod to the top, but Barbara and Tatiana singing together beautifully while facing the glorious views from the mountaintop made it well worth the effort. The final supper of the workshop took place on a high plateau looking down on a double bend in the river and a lovely view of soft green Sanduki. The delicious meal of pork, garlic, vegetables, rice and dried fruit was cooked in a large pot over an open fire. Afterward, Barbara, Tatiana and the participants played drums and sang as the sun set. For the final ritual, we drove to the kurgans I'd visited scouting locations on my first day in Khakassia. As I filmed the women experiencing various levels of transformation as they passed through the "gates" of the two massive kurgans in the lengthy dusk with pink and purple sky, the mosquitos were voracious but the spirits were soaring. Barbara and I agreed that this was a fitting end to an unforgettable, life-altering experience. Keeper of the Beat will be a much richer film for our having made this journey.