The Birch Forests

On the second morning, the train was already four hundred kilometres east of Moscow. Polly woke up on the small folding table. The light through the window was the soft grey of a northern summer morning. Galina, the older woman, was already drinking tea from a glass in a metal holder.

Asubuhi ya pili, treni ilikuwa tayari kilomita mia nne mashariki ya Moscow. Polly aliamka kwenye meza ndogo inayokunjwa. Mwanga kupitia dirishani ulikuwa kijivu laini cha asubuhi ya kiangazi ya kaskazini. Galina, mwanamke mzee, alikuwa tayari anakunywa chai kutoka kwenye glasi iliyo na kishikio cha chuma.

"Birches," she said.

"Mibiringanya," alisema.

Polly looked. Outside, white-trunked trees were running past at sixty kilometres an hour. They were everywhere. They went on. They were not in groves or clearings. They were the entire landscape.

Polly alitazama. Nje, miti yenye magamba meupe ilikuwa ikikimbia kwa kasi ya kilomita sitini kwa saa. Ilikuwa kila mahali. Iliendelea. Haikuwa katika makundi au sehemu wazi. Ilikuwa ni mandhari yote.

This was the western edge of the Russian birch belt. White birch has the widest natural range of any deciduous tree on Earth. It grows where almost nothing else will. It is the tree that says: there has been a fire here, or, there will be a forest here, but I am here first.

Hii ilikuwa ni ukingo wa magharibi wa ukanda wa mibiringanya ya Urusi. Mibiringanya mweupe ina eneo kubwa zaidi la asili kuliko mti mwingine wowote wa majani duniani. Inakua mahali ambapo karibu hakuna kitu kingine kitakachokua. Ni mti unaosema: kulikuwa na moto hapa, au, kutakuwa na msitu hapa, lakini mimi niko hapa kwanza.

The young man with the laptop, whose name turned out to be Pavel, looked up. "You are the parrot," he said in flat English. "I noticed." He went back to typing.

Kijana mwenye kompyuta mpakato, ambaye jina lake lilikuwa Pavel, aliinua macho. "Wewe ni kasuku," alisema kwa Kiingereza kisicho na hisia. "Niliona." Alirudi kuandika.

Galina poured a second glass of tea and offered it to Polly. It was the colour of amber. A thin slice of lemon floated on top. The samovar at the end of the carriage had been running for twelve hours straight.

Galina alimimina glasi ya pili ya chai na kumpa Polly. Ilikuwa na rangi ya kaharabu. Kipande chembamba cha limau kilielea juu. Samovar mwishoni mwa behewa ilikuwa imekuwa ikifanya kazi kwa saa kumi na mbili mfululizo.

Polly drank a sip carefully off the edge of the glass. It was very hot and very sweet.

Polly alikunywa funda kwa uangalifu kutoka pembe ya glasi. Ilikuwa moto sana na tamu sana.

"The longest part of this trip is the trees," Galina said. "People do not understand this until they ride it. You sit in a train for six days and you look out at trees. There is no end to them."

"Sehemu ndefu zaidi ya safari hii ni miti," Galina alisema. "Watu hawaelewi hili mpaka wanapopanda. Unakaa kwenye treni kwa siku sita na unatazama nje miti. Hakuna mwisho wake."

The taiga begins past the Volga. About forty percent of Russia's land area is taiga. The country contains roughly twenty percent of all the world's standing forest.

Taiga inaanza kupita Volga. Takriban asilimia arobaini ya eneo la ardhi la Urusi ni taiga. Nchi hii ina karibu asilimia ishirini ya misitu yote ya dunia.

Polly drank a second sip. Pavel typed. Galina returned to her book. Outside, four hundred kilometres slid past as if it were one continuous birch.

Polly alikunywa funda la pili. Pavel aliendelea kuandika. Galina alirudi kwenye kitabu chake. Nje, kilomita mia nne zilipita kana kwamba ilikuwa ni biringanya moja inayoendelea.