Holidays in Russia contrast with western celebrations

     What is Christmas? It’s jolly old Santa Claus bringing presents wrapped in colorful crinkling paper, the fresh smell of a winter forest wafting from a Christmas tree covered with glazed ornaments, logs in the fireplace crackling and throwing a handful of sparks in the air once in a while … These are the common elements associated with this holiday, typical to the American culture.


       However, I grew up in Moscow, Russia, a very different cultural and geographic environment, where Christmas celebration greatly differs from the American norm. 
First, Christmas is not really Christmas in Russia: The Christmas people usually talk about, the grand celebration with many festivities and gift-giving, occurs on New Year’s.


       On Jan. 1, the streets are empty (partly because of the cold), and everyone is inside gathered around a table, which creaks under the weight of the sausages, bread, caviar, fish, roast beef, sandwiches, fruits and salads.


       There are also a few specialty foods: pirogi, or bread dumplings stuffed with anything one can think of: from salty mushrooms to sugary cherries. On the menu is almost always a specialty dish: seledka pod shuboi is the most common one, which literally translates as “herring in a fur coat,” the fur coat being beet and potato salad coated with mayonnaise. Finally, no New Year’s dinner would be complete without chocolate or caramel candies wrapped in colorful paper with drawings of animals or fairy tale characters on them. My favorite part was collecting and trading them later.

 
       But there’s something everyone must do before eating. If you look outside the window on New Year’s Eve, you will see every window glowing with a faint blue light of the TV, where the president is giving his annual “Happy New Year” speech and wishing everyone a prosperous and blissful year.


       Then, his image fades away and a clock appears on the screen; this is not just any clock: the most accurate clock in all of Russia, located on the Spasskaya tower in Kremlin. As you watch the seconds tick down, you have to make a wish for the upcoming year in a minute. However, I never liked the one-wish rule. When the clock started ticking down, I would always squeeze my eyes shut and try to cram as many wishes as possible into one minute.


       When the clock strikes midnight, the room practically explodes with the release of built-up anticipation, and everyone jumps up and shouts, “S Novym Godom, s novym shastyem!” which translates to “New year, new happiness!” Then everyone clinks their glasses, filled to the brim with sparkling champagne, and calls out toasts. The adults always came up with eloquent speeches and clever jokes, but my toasts were always limited by “I wish you all the best. Happy New Year!”


       Finally, it is time to sit down and begin feasting. Meanwhile, the adults get out their presents from under a Christmas tree and begin distributing them, followed by surprised exclamations of delight and long hugs all around the room.


      When I was a kid, my dad would always dress up as “Grandpa Frost,” who is the Russian version of Santa Claus, and play a game with me and my cousins: he would pretend that he cannot light the lights on the Christmas tree and ask us for help. Then we would shout  “One, two, three, light up, Christmas tree!” three times and finally on the third time the tree would start blinking with tiny multicolored lights, and we would jump up and down and shout happily, because we knew that after helping Grandpa Frost, we deserved a reward: presents and candy! 


      As much fun as the idea of “Grandpa Frost” was, I never believed there was such a person: my parents never tried to hide the fact that he was not real, but I never minded. The idea of a strange old man knocking around on people’s doors and entering with a big sack over his shoulder used to frighten me, given that I spent my childhood in a city with one of the highest crime rates in the world, so knowing that Grandpa Frost was my dad made the character more comforting.


       After a few more hours of sitting around at the table and catching up with family and friends, the lights go out, and the city falls asleep after a long and exciting day.
  

    However, Russians also celebrate Christmas, a religious Orthodox holiday, which falls on the 7th of January on the Gregorian calendar. This holiday does not involve many festivities; nevertheless, it is a crucial part of Russian culture.

       Christmas Eve, called Svyatki, is considered in Russian culture to be the best time to practice fortune telling because on this day you will get the most accurate answers.

       One common type of fortune telling done by young women on Christmas Eve is using the mirror to predict their future husband: they sit in the dark between two mirrors, light candles around them, and try to make out in the reflections around them the image of their other half. The best time for this type of fortune telling is midnight.
I tried predicting my future this way once, but the shadows can make pretty scary shadows on the walls, especially when everyone is asleep, so I never completed the fortune telling process. In addition, people in Russia take this stuff pretty seriously, especially the older Slavic generations, and my grandma didn’t like the idea of me messing around with evil magic (essentially fortune telling is considered to be on the dark side).

       There is also a 40-day Lent preceding Christmas, when Orthodox Christians are not allowed to eat any meat. It ends with the first star in the sky on Jan. 6 and the traditional Christmas dinner begins, with the main course of kutya, or sweet rice with poppy seeds. Even though people usually eat it on the 6th, I would always ask mom to make it for me for days afterwards.

       Afterward, many people go to church to attend an all-night Christmas liturgy. This is much harder than it looks: sSince I was a kid, my goal had always been to stay awake all night, but my endeavors always failed at around 2 o’clock: my record is 2:30 a.m. Sophomore year, however, has given me much practice with pulling all-nighters, and this year I’m determined to stay in church until sunrise. 

     The Christmas service concludes this holiday.

       Now in the U.S., when I look at the calendar and cross off “December 25th,” I remember with a wistfulness the wonderful times I had celebrating winter holidays in Russia.