dosvedanya for now

and finally
Almost an entire month in Russia, and we have seen glimpses of blue sky for only a matter of minutes, perhaps two or three times. This is one of them. Gray skies day after day after day after day after day. Light snow or fine misty rain much of the time. Cold and damp when we first arrived, cool and damp now. Always gray. Yesterday I looked up from my desk in the late afternoon, and caught sight of some colour in the sky as the sun was setting through a slight gap in the clouds. Thought I’d capture the moment, and leave it with you until my next chance to post - hope the sun is shining in Portugal. As I write these words, the sun has broken through with a blinding brightness - I watched for a few moments, until the clouds covered it over again...




#5
This one’s for you, Heidi. We didn’t see any pugs in France, but this is sighting #5 in Russia (#6 if you count Princess Golitzyna’s). One or two have sported cute little snowsuits. And one was incredibly cute as the rolly-polly-est pug I think I have ever seen! But this is the first one that I have photographed, thanks to a strong zoom from the distant haven of our hotel room.




enigma
This one may be more difficult. We didn’t find out who this represented, but just appreciated its charm as one of the many great sculptures in this cemetery, created over the years by a number of celebrated Russian sculptors.





Hukuta
We found this grave (among those of other famous personages) in the Cemetery of Novodevichy. If you know your Russian alphabet and/or your historical dates, you may be able to figure out who is buried here.








war and peace
Back to Moscow. Our last Russian venture before our departure on Friday morning: the Novodevichy Convent. Founded in 1524 by Grand Prince Vasily III to commemorate the re-capture of Smolensk, it is actually a fortress-convent, and has played a pivotal role in several wars through the centuries. Political, military and religious entanglement seems to be a deeply-embedded feature of the Russian spiritual experience. We walked through the courtyards, visited the exhibits and the gift shop, entered briefly into the one church that appeared to be in operation, and left feeling more than ever our utter lack of connection with, or comprehension of, Russian Orthodox religion.

ZDRASTyeche

the window
Dostoevsky’s window onto the world. So much to see through his eyes. So much lurking beneath the thin veneer of civilization - as Ron and I experienced in the St. Petersburg metro system - two attempted muggings in less than 24 hours! Apparently our facial features give us away as easy non-Russian prey. Not so easy as they thought. Thanks for your prayers, everyone!




pilgrimage
The one place I was most eager to visit in St. Petersburg. Dostoevsky’s last apartment. Grieving the death of his little son Alyosha, Dostoevsky wrote the Brothers Karamazov here during the last three years of his life. Needing absolute quiet for his writing, his habit was to write during the night while his wife and children slept, and to sleep in the morning while his wife recopied his work (apparently she was the only one who could read his handwriting).




the greats
Catharina the Great wanted to honour the memory of Petro the Great, so she commissioned this glorious monument. More contrasts: amazing contributions to Russian life vs. disfunctional family life (Peter imprisoned his son; Catherine was apparently complicit in her husband’s murder). The cathedral in the background is St. Isaac’s. Impressive, but we’d seen enough icons by this time, so didn’t pay the entrance fee.




Hermitage / Winter Palace
The tsars lived here. A nation’s wealth of culture and architecture is displayed here. It is beautiful. Each room a masterpiece filled with masterpieces. Well, this one’s a little empty - but its gleam and splendor symbolize so well the glory of this place. Yet here we discovered another Russian contrast: magnificent grandeur vs. bewildering triviality. Required to check our coats before entering, we had to wait in interminable lines for coat hooks to become free before the coat-check women would take our coats. Aaarrrgghhh!





night train
After driving two hours to Tolstoy’s estate (and two hours back again), we drove the hour-and-a-half from Puschino to Moscow by private taxi (in a car that had to be towed to start). Then at the end of this very long day, we boarded the night train for St. Petersburg. Midnight to 8 a.m. in this cozy little two-bed compartment. There are about two dozen extremely long trains traveling from Moscow to St. Petersburg every day (another train left within minutes of ours). All of Russian life appears to revolve around these two very different centers: Moscow the science, business and political capital of Russia, and St. Petersburg the cultural capital.

dobry utro

the green stick
In this ravine on Tolstoy’s estate is a green stick - or so goes the story that Tolstoy’s brother used to tell him as a child. On this green stick is written the secret to making everyone happy. Tolstoy looked for this stick as a child, and in a sense he spent the rest of his life looking for it. This is where he wanted to be buried.




a holy place
This is Yasnaya Polyana, Lev Tolstoy’s estate. He tried to live simply there, yet thought it was not simple enough. He devoted his life to obeying Christ by making life better for the poor, but always felt he needed to do more. His home was always open to his very many children and grandchildren, although he had trouble feeling at ease there himself. He wrote brilliant books and profound stories that continue to bless and to challenge this world, but many think he was a bit “off” at the end when he could no longer bear the inconsistencies he perceived in his life. He simply walked away from it all, fell ill from the cold, and died at a train station.




Puschino-on-Oka
Puschino - just south of Moscow on the Oka River, where we spent three days and two nights last week. Deliberately constructed by the anti-religious soviet government in the 1960s as strictly and solely a center devoted to science, this city was the last place I would have expected to come across (quite by “chance”) a very special religious service. These people were commemorating their new church’s saint’s day. And how extraordinary that this saint would happen to be Saint Michael, with all the memories this brings back to me of my visits to Mont-Saint-Michel a few years ago. Michael slaying the dragon - God standing by our side against all that oppresses us. Worth celebrating.




Happy Birthday, Heather
As we wandered through art galleries on November 19th, I kept looking for something that I could post as a happy-birthday wish to you, Heather. Finally, leaving the Pushkin Fine Arts Museum at the end of the day, we crossed the street in the direction of the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour and came across a statue of some very-important-personage (I forget who) guarded by this magnificent beast. Thought he might do. Happy Birthday!




Heidi in a previous life
In the Tretyakov Gallery in Moscow, we came across this portrait of Heidi in a former life (Vanloo’s The Princess Golitzyna)! Wealth and elegance and aristocracy aside, it’s amazing how little has changed since 1759 (note the tongue). Speaking of former lives, Ron and I are missing Canada very much. We feel like we have entered into a strangely different life here. The striking contrasts in Russian history and society can be rather jarring to the senses, and we have felt it keenly: rich culture vs. dismal poverty; extraordinary self-sacrifice vs. ravenous self-interest; overflowing grace and hospitality vs. stone-faced scowls; centuries of enduring patience vs. the fend-for-yourself push and shove of every-day life on streets and walkways.

From Russia with love, part 3

May God bless Russia
I don’t know when I’ll get to post again, so I will leave you now with a beautiful picture, this night shot of the Cathedral of the Intercession, better known as the Cathedral of St. Basil the Blessed, perhaps the most recognized building in all of Russia - and deeply symbolic of Russia itself. It is located in Red Square, just outside the Kremlin walls. We were there this week, on Tuesday November 14th in the evening. I will let a guide book tells its history: “It was built as a monument to the defeat of the Kazan Khanate at the hands of Ivan IV (1552). After each major victory a small wooden church was erected... in honor of the saint on whose feast day the victory was won. Thus, by the end of the war, there were eight churches on this site. After the final victory, Ivan IV... ordered a large church built in masonry to replace the wooden ones. ... a monument whose composition has no parallel in the entire history of world architecture. They built eight pillar-like churches on a single foundation, placed symmetrically around the ninth, central pillar, the tallest and most architecturally complex and crowned with a spire.” A crazy mix, yet somehow also a thing of great mystery and beauty. Like Russia.






KGB / FSB
This is the KGB. Place of torture and death. Symbol of fear and oppression and all that was wrong with the communist era. It seems strange to me that the new secret service agency (FSB) has chosen to continue on in the same building.





faith, hope and history
This is representative of so many churches/cathedrals we have visited. Icons everywhere. Elaborate and gilded decorations. People - young and old, men and women - bowing and crossing themselves reverently. An elderly nun assisting a group of young soldiers, showing them how to light the prayer candles. Chanting priests and responding congregations - all standing (no pews - comfortable or otherwise - here). The recovery of a past faith to help carry hope with them into the future.






oops!!
The Tsar-bell (also located in the Kremlin) was cast in 1733-1735. It is 6.14 meters high, 6.6 meters across and weighs 200 tons. During the fire in 1737, it was still in the casting pit. Uneven cooling caused it to crack, a chunk of 11.5 tons breaking off. In 1836, the bell was finally set on a pediment for viewing. I wonder how they did it?!?






at last!
After two failed attempts earlier in the month, we finally make it into the Kremlin on November 14th. The Kremlin is a “city within a city” - home of the Tsars and the Soviet leaders and now the residence and offices of the President of Russia. It’s also a great tourist attraction. Inside the massive red walls (complete with 20 towers) of this small city are several cathedrals, churches, palaces, and museums. And this bronze cannon, the Tsar-cannon, commissioned by the son of Ivan the Terrible in 1586. The cannon is 5.34 meters long, and weighs 40 tons. A decorative gun carriage and hollow decorative cannonballs (1 ton each) were made for it in 1835 (the cannon was made to fire grapeshot).

From Russia with love, part 2 (bottoms up again)

an empty tomb
This is Lenin’s tomb, located along an outside wall of the Kremlin. Lenin’s body is usually on display here, but it had been temporarily removed in order to renew the treatments necessary for its preservation. In light of new facts that have come to light in recent years, Lenin is no longer revered by most Russians. Here’s what WayToRussia.Net has to say about Lenin’s tomb: “The Mausoleum was built in 1930 to put Lenin’s dead body inside (you know, like they did in Egypt). The body lies in there, but few people, tourists mostly, visit it and there are talks that Lenin will be buried soon. Also, there’s a story that under the mausoleum there’s a hidden underground railway, that’ll evacuate the body of Bolsheviks’ leader in case there’s a nuclear war or something.”






nameless
I will let him remain nameless because I don’t remember his name. But I will also let him remain nameless because he was hated and feared, and it may be better not to perpetuate his name. He was the head of the KGB. His statue stood in front of the KGB building until it was pulled down by the people of Moscow in their eagerness to exact vengeance on this symbol of their oppression. Rescued for the sake of history, it now stands with countless other stone relics of the communist era, gathered together into a monument graveyard. No longer revered, these lifeless objects of a people’s grief and anger, serve as reminders of a political experiment gone terribly wrong. Stalin has a particular place of dishonour in this graveyard, several representations of his grim figure standing in the middle of an artistic memorial of the holocaust he caused.






far more than a thousand words...






Russia
Early November in Russia...






us
Enjoying our first experience of the Russian countryside.

From Russia with love, part 1 (read from bottom up)

always winter and never Christmas?
Outside of Moscow (on the estate of the man who killed Rasputin!) we came across Edmund on a troika. Well, o.k. it wasn’t Edmund, but it sure looks like it could have been! November, and it looks and feels like the middle of winter! For more information about this estate, check out www.arkhangelskoe.ru.





Colossal waste or inspired vision?
In the words of WayToRussia.Net: “The Cathedral of Christ the Savior. Is the main church in Moscow. Opened in 1883, in a memory of Russian victory over Napoleon in 1812, this building was the biggest cathedral in Russia. But communists didn’t like it and planned to build a Palace of the Soviets in it’s place. So the Cathedral was destroyed. Meanwhile, communists couldn’t manage to build the Palace so they place an open swimming pool there. Nowadays, Moscow Mayer decided to rebuild the Cathedral. He spent fortune to build Cathedral again.” WayToRussia.Net - worth checking out! (By the way, the Russian language does not make use of articles. Can you imagine how confusing it must be to figure out “the” and “a” without some frame of reference in one’s own language?!)






Day of Unity
On Russia’s new Day of Unity (our first Saturday in Russia), we were unable to make our way into the Kremlin, or even into Red Square. Security was tight. Still, how meaningful to be in the heart of Moscow at this momentous time and place. We came across a small communist protest against economic and political changes that are leaving so many people behind, especially those who don’t live and work in the big cities. Somehow the bird sitting on top of Marx’s head makes the whole sight seem that much more tragic.






another changing of the guards...
Russia is a land in the throes of another kind of changing of the guards: the new is replacing the old (often with the older). Here we see that the red star of the USSR has been replaced by the two-headed eagle (an older symbol of Russia) on top of one of the Kremlin’s many towers. Interesting how appropriate this symbol is for a nation that spent the last century being pulled in (at least) two diametrically opposed directions. How exciting to be in Russia in November of 2006, when for the first time since the revolution, November 7th was a regular working day. For the past few years November 7th has ceased to be celebrated as Revolution Day - and has been commemorated instead as a Day of Grief, or a Day of Reconciliation. But this year the holiday was excised outright for the very first time, and replaced by a new holiday: November 4th, designated as a “Day of Unity.”






changing of the guards...
And now for something completely different - RUSSIA! This is the tomb of the unknown soldier, located along an outside wall of the Kremlin. The soldiers guarding it are very young, probably recruits in training. There are many very young soldiers in Russia. A lot of attention goes to security here in Russia. Even in our hotel and at the university and in the churches and in the shops and in the metro and in the museums... there are guards who watch our comings and our goings very closely.

last days of France

a river runs through it...
We are on a bridge over a river in Clisson, a pretty little Italian-style village (complete with castle ruins) not too far from Nantes. (Remember crossing that bridge with Micah on a cold, windy, rainy day in January, Meghan?) It is a Sunday afternoon, our last day together with people we have come to love very much - Vincent and his parents, Yannick and Dominique. Ron takes a picture of Vincent as Vincent takes a picture of Ron. And I think, what an amazing metaphor. Who is taking the picture of whom? And who has been blessed by whom? A river of God’s abundant grace runs beneath us all. And all we can say is: “Thanks be to God!”





a fond farewell...
We have become very fond of Nantes. Here is one of many reasons. On our last Saturday evening in France, we took the tram into town for a farewell stroll and dinner. As we expected, the city was alive with light and warm with community, even in this last weekend of October!





Happy Birthday, Caitlin!
Just two days before Caitlin’s birthday, I had this chocolate-banana crepe in her honour (at the Vieux Quimper). I did my best to enjoy it for both of us, Cait - wish you could have been there :) - anyway, a very happy quarter-century to you!





remembering...
Until coming to France a few years ago, I had never heard of “calvaires” (representations of Calvary). They are found in many villages throughout France. This very special one is found in Orvault. Do you remember it, Meghan?





remembrances of things past...
... remember the sun... remember the warmth... remember the colour... vive la France! (Here in Russia, believing in the existence of the sun is more a matter of faith than of sight!) A few days before leaving France, Ron and I walked (for about an hour) to Orvault. These flowers were part of a glorious display adorning the rond-point just in front of the village Cathedral. France is speckled with pretty little villages (yes, Nancy, they’re still there). And I don’t think we’ll ever quite get our minds around the fact that most of them seem to have their very own not-so-little cathedrals!