Dragging him back into the hotel, I brought him to the front-desk receptionist (whom I already knew spoke some English) and asked her to explain to our puzzled driver our desired destination.
"Svësdni Gorodok" she replied. That finally inspired a reaction from our driver, however, not exactly the one I had hoped for
"Nyet, nyet, nyet," he chuckled while shaking his head.
"Da." I countered, using one of only two Russian words I knew.
After a little more bantering between our driver's 'nyets' and my 'das' he finally agreed and began our hourlong drive to the center of the Soviet and Russian space programs.
The long drive was relatively uneventful. The road leading to one of the world's leading technological (albeit, often overlooked) centers is surprisingly rural; it's basically located in the country, with farms and small roadside stands serving as the most noticeable of any local landmarks.
The peaceful ride gave some time for us to reflect on what had really just transpired. Only a decade earlier, the idea of tourists visiting Star City, let alone Americans, would have been unthinkable. But here we were, a group of six, most of us too young to remember Gagarin's first flight, doing just that.
We knew we had arrived as we drove up to a large gate and a surrounding stone wall. Two guards toting AK-47 rifles slowly approached either side of the van. One guard looked into the van and yelled something in Russian to his partner.
The gates opened, much to the obvious relief of our driver, and we were waved onward.
Not to imply any random van carrying a group of American tourists will be given free entrance to the once restricted city -- we were expected. Our access was part of a tour arranged by Virginia-based Space Adventures, Ltd.
Our tour was to include many unique experiences. In a few days we would return to Star City to train in weightlessness aboard the Russian version of NASA's KC-135 "Vomit Comet." Some of the members of our tour would fly a MiG-25 to 85,000 feet (25,900 meters), at which height the curvature of Earth and the blackness of space are visible. And we would all watch one of our friends train in neutral buoyancy with full mock-ups of the International Space Station components.
Today, however, we were to tour the Yuri Gagarin Cosmonaut Training Center and its museum.
The Training Center, established on January 11, 1960, was created to develop the scientific and technical prerequisites for manned spaceflight. The center would be responsible for the training of every cosmonaut to fly into space, including the first, Yuri Gagarin.
Originally named the Cosmonauts Training Center, Gagarin's name was added in 1968, after the hero's tragic death in a plane crash.
Gagarin had served as the center's deputy director. One of our first stops on our tour was to his office, which to this day has been preserved exactly as it was the day of his death, down to the time on the wall clock.
As legend (and our tour guide) tells it, the clock stopped at the moment Gagarin died.
It has become customary prior to every Russian launch for the crew to visit this office, sit at the table adjacent to Gagarin's desk and sign a book asking for his guidance and blessing.
While we also visited some of the classrooms used to teach cosmonauts and viewed the full-scale mock-up of the recently deorbited Mir space station, the highlight of this tour, at least personally, was the Training Center Museum.
Essentially the Russian version of the National Air and Space Museum, only much smaller and without any reference to aviation, the museum is kept under lock and key until one of the center's docents arrives.
Gagarin received many gifts congratulating him on his historic flight. Feeling it was important to share these gifts with everyone working on the program, he donated the pieces to the center and established this museum. Since then the museum has grown through pieces donated directly by the cosmonauts.
In the United States, after a spaceflight, any piece of space hardware that is not going to be reused on another flight is presented to the Smithsonian's National Air and Space Museum for first refusal. If they do not desire it, it is assigned to another museum. This is possible because, in the U.S., all space hardware ultimately belongs to the government, including those spacecraft and utilities built by contractors.
In Russia, private contractors retain ownership of their hardware, even while in use in space. The Mir space station does not belong to the Russian Aviation and Space Agency; it is owned and operated by RSC Energia, the commercial contractor responsible for its construction.
Therefore, the pieces in the museum range from the very significant to the almost trivial. Key hardware from Russian space history, such as Gagarin's Vostok 1 capsule, is surprisingly absent. The capsule is located at a private museum at Energia' s headquarters, which is actually more difficult to access than Star City.
What does reside at the Gagarin museum tells the story of international competition and cooperation. In the same hall displaying Russian (Soviet) victories of the space race, such as spacesuits from the first man and woman in orbit (Gagarin and Valentina Tereshkova), are international flags flown on Mir representing each country that has either sent a person or piece of equipment to the orbiting complex. In a display case directly across from a wall of awards proclaiming the superiority of the Soviet space program are photos and memorabilia from the Apollo-Soyuz Test Project. And in a new case is an exhibit displaying the American astronauts who flew to Mir as part of Phase 1 of the International Space Station program.
Yet, Russian pride still reigns, with cases filled with memorabilia from Soviet firsts, including many items from the world's first space station, Salyut. Even a Russian Moonsuit is on display, hinting to a history that might have been.
In one room, separated from the general displays, are the personal effects of Russia's greatest hero, Yuri Gagarin. Here you can see his military suit and honors, the inner suit from his space flight (the outer suit is on display at Energia) and countless letters and awards presented to him by the world's leaders.
And even Gagarin is here: In a small Lucite box, mounted to the wall and surrounded by his burned passport, flying license and wallet are some of his remains. Our guide explained that on the anniversary of his birth and death people gather here to pay respect.
And with that came the revelation of what our visit had really meant. With the Mir space station's deorbit being planned, and international cooperation being stressed as the future of space exploration, we six American tourists were paying our respects to the Space Race and the Soviet space program and the man who started it all.
advertisement
