Ruslan, who I met on the Aralsk to Tashkent train, is quite unlike anyone I've met before.
Ruslan is a force of nature. Born with both feet on the accelerator, a cigarette at his lips, a steering wheel in one hand and bottle of vodka in the other, Ruslan knows how to live life to the full, in the moment, riding on instinct.
An irresistible mix of charisma, charm, positivity and action, Ruslan is a man for the lads, a man for the ladies, a central figure in his community and, in his own particular way, a family man and a humble and respectful muslim.
We shared almost no language other than the limited vocabulary in my pocket Russian phrasebook and yet we got on like a house on fire. This seemed to be his affect on most people, language barrier or not. At a brief pit-stop at my hotel, Ruslan got chatting to some Spaniards about to continue on their way from Madrid on the Mongol Rally. It took less than 5 mins of broken English conversation for Ruslan to obtain the Spaniards' phone numbers and a cautious promise of a place to stay if he ever made it to Madrid!
Ruslan's official job, as far as I understood, is a train carriage guard, though I'm pretty sure he has a few projects on the side because, from what I saw of his life while entertaining me, he's better off than I imagine the average train guard to be.... He's well connected, laughing off concerns of being stopped at the police road checks, and knows everyone in his area. Whether cruising through the village at walking pace to Russian gangsta rap, or weaving through the traffic on the intercity roads with Armin Van Buuren's State of Trance setting the pace, Ruslan always had time to say hi to his friends and extensive family. On numerous occasions he'd pull over, as would the other person if they were also driving , get out, say a brief hello, find out the latest news, and then we'd be on our way.
There was never a dull moment with Ruslan.
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