Yaroslavl, Russia
March 15, 2007

A bit like Mardi Gras, Maslenitsa is a huge Russian celebration that takes place in February and lasts for a week.

The week is filled with lots of concerts, expositions, games, and, of course, blini--Russian pancakes. It was actually a pagan holiday, celebrating the coming of spring, and, as often happens with the introduction of organized religion, was incorporated into Russian Orthodoxy. It leads up to the period of fasting (mainly just the exclusion of meat), which ends on Easter. My friends and I joyfully took part in the blini-eating and attended whatever concerts we could during the week.

But, they save the best for the very last moments--Sunday evening. Starting around five o'clock, a huge concert draws everyone to Sovetskaya ploschad (Soviet Square), in the middle of which stands the Cathedral Ilya Proroka (prophet), a church protected by UNESCO's World Heritage program. Everyone dances, sings folk songs, and eats blini from the stands encircling the square.

From there, everyone slowly makes their way to the bank of the Volga River (only about a three minute walk from Sovetskaya ploschad). The entire embankment is just filled with people, both on the lower and upper tiers. Everyone faces the river and watches as fireworks explode from the other side. Cheers can be heard throughout the entire evening. At random intervals, the crowd will start chanting "Yaroslavl! Yaroslavl! Yaroslavl!" To an American ear, the slurred multitude of voices sounds like it's yelling "You're a slob! You're a slob! You're a slob!" But they don't know that, and I don't think they would have cared.

You have to find a good spot on the embankment in order to see what is the defining moment of the holiday: the burning of the Maslenitsa doll. They build a huge doll (probably 30 feet tall...just a guess) and stand it up on the ice of the river. She's made of straw and cloth, except for the head, which remains after the burning. The faster she burns, the sooner spring will come.

As the sparks from the last fireworks fade, the crowd starts to break up and people head off to celebrate further in the company of friends and family. I stuck around though, and witnessed as people of all ages, kids and adults alike, started sliding down the hills of the snow-covered embankment and then climbed back up. Obviously a tradition among, some had clearly had a lot of practice: One boy (maybe 14 or 15?) would take a running leap at the top of the hill, do a full flip in the air, land on his feet, then run the rest of the way down the hill, gracefully stopping before he hit the concrete barrier at the edge of the river. I also witnessed as a seemingly-abandoned 4-year-old trying to climb up the steep embankment was rescued by two young men, and how fathers slid down holding little ones in their arms or by the hand.

I would have gladly joined in the fun, if I hadn't feared ruining my loyal pukhovik (down coat) , which had kept me warm even through the Siberian cold spells. But as it was, I was just glad to witness the happy faces, comradery, festivities, and connection everyone seemed to feel during the holiday. It was one of those study abroad moments, when you wish all your family and friends could be there, because you know your description just won't do it justice.