A reverential statue of Ivan Fedorov, who in 1564 printed the first Russian book, now stands next to a Ferrari dealership. Right around the corner, not far from the Kremlin Wall and a hulking stone sculpture of Karl Marx, is millionaires’ row — Gucci and Yves Saint Laurent stores. On the way back to my hotel, I wander through one of the many extraordinary Moscow subway stations; this one honours the heroes of the 1917 revolution. Passersby touch the well-worn nose on a bronze statue of a patriotic dog for good luck; off in the corner, teenagers are shooting up.

Kurt Vonnegut’s “dancing lessons,” I have learned from this rather bizarre trip, are all about survival. The extraordinary survival of the Nenets, despite the shrinking, ever-globalized world, bears strange parallels to the survival of Canada’s Inuvialuit and Inuit, who were almost decimated several times by European and “southern” diseases like TB. And there’s the survival of the Nenets’ distinct language and culture, and in Canada of the Inuit language, Inuktitut, despite the culturally devastating onslaught of commercial television. Beyond Siberia, there’s the survival of a unique Russian identity and pride, despite so many political upheavals and competing ideologies. In a way, this parallels the survival and transformation of Canada and Canadian identity, despite our sleeping with an elephant. I guess ultimately it’s about an ability and willingness to adapt without surrendering our core values. It’s about the strength of the human spirit, especially the strong northern spirit we share.