We started our shift twenty minutes late this morning due to no other than the Kenyan, Emanuel. Not because he was slow (Emanuel is the fastest runner amongst the crew with a 2:14 marathon time), but because he was accompanied by 15 club runners from the city Krasnoyarsk who came out to support the run. By the time Emanuel ran into the exchange point however, only two Russian runners remained by his side. The team of three cruised in with their arms in air, Emmanuel the black African in the middle of two tall skinny white Russians. Another 10 miles down, and time for team Yellow to take over.

At 9:30am, we started the hilliest section of the route to date; each of us contended with several daunting climbs, but in the dry air and lovely green fields dotted with the purple willow herb flowers, the running conditions were perfect. Next to a paved road with little traffic, the gravel shoulder provided good cushioning on which to run.

Next destination—Kansk. After a three hour van ride, we checked in to our 4th floor walk-up rooms (in between flights pausing to rest and question why we are carrying such large rolling suitcases), and then strolled the town. The Chinese restaurant where we dined turned into a bustling disco tech, as the Russian diners (celebrating a Saturday night out and toasting with, of course, shots of vodka) busted a move between courses and invited us out to dance. Like the local runners, they too were especially interested in Emanuel. In these small Siberian towns, foreigners are rare, but black foreigners are almost nonexistent. It’s like seeing a giraffe walk through your neighborhood when all you have ever seen of one before is a picture. So of course, you look with wonder and you take your camera and go outside to get a picture. Here in Siberia, people are not only looking at Emanuel, but they are lining up to get their picture taken with him. He’s a celebrity.

After the Chinese disco dinner, we came across a break dance contest further down the street in the center square. A hundred or so young people, dressed in Western style—especially the young girls who were particularly dolled up for the evening out—clustered around the cardboard laid stage, music thumping, apparently deciding the winner of the dance competition. Rudy, Paul, Lansing and I approached with Emanuel, whose presence immediately diverted the onlookers’ attention. Whispers and giggles ensued and all heads turned (despite the voting taking place center stage) to see the black man. According to one of the 17 year old boys, the city of Kansk had not been visited by a black person in two years. The swarm began. The young men and especially the young ladies approached him, put their arms around him, posed for pictures with him, spoke with him (despite the language barrier) and simply drooled over him as if he were a movie star. As if we hadn’t disrupted the dance competition enough, we were then invited, and then pushed into the center circle, where one shy young girl attempted to translate Emanuel’s words. I know they got the Kenya part right, and identified Emanuel as a runner, but I’m not sure the rest of the message was conveyed. Perhaps they figured we were Emanuel’s security staff. I thought that the break dancers might be annoyed by the diversion of attention, but they too patted him on the back, shook his hand like old friends and posed for pictures. Soon, they had us dancing center stage, photos continued, and the youth group sponsoring the event gave all five of us red Kansk t-shirts, which we put on immediately. Even the local news photographer lined us up with the kids, Emanuel in the center, to get a picture for the paper.

On this trip, there are Adventures in Siberia, and then there are Adventures in Siberia with Emanuel.