Going to Extremes

After Nizhnyi Novgorod, my next big stop was in the city of Yekaterinburg, officially past the Ural Mountains, in Asia. Now I was heading into new territory. I had never been to Asia before and I didn’t know what to expect from the first city outside the immediate radius of Moscow. I was also curious to see the changes in the ethnicity of the inhabitants. Would it be a total change from European to Asian, some sort of mix, or no change at all? I was surprised to find it much more European in flavor with a definite uptick in the Asian influence. What surprised me more than the people, was how much there was to do and see in the city. Once again, my planning was a bit off. Not only is Yekaterinburg good for two or more days in the city, there is also much to do outside in the Ural Mountains (next time!). 

Arrival

Heroes' Welcome 

For a city on the verge of Siberia, Yekaterinburg is a pretty happening kind of place. And who better than this “happenin” kind of guy to scope the place out? Actually, my main interest in the city is probably the same as many tourists', it was the city where the Bolsheviks murdered Czar Nicholas II and his family and entourage. It’s a pretty grim reason to visit but it is an important reason nonetheless. The actually murders took place on July 17, 1917 in the basement of a local city merchant’s home (Ipatiev House). Even during Soviet times, many people came there to lay flowers so city mayor, Boris Yeltsin, had the home knocked down and a small sign or memorial was left in its place. This failed to discourage the pilgrims and when the Soviet Union fell (again, the right people weren’t in place to make that great idea work!) a church was built on the site. And it’s a mighty fine church at that!

Cathedral on the Blood

The day I visited the Cathedral of the Blood the upper part was closed for repairs (?) but visitors could still go to the chapels in the basement. But before going inside, there are the huge pictures of the Czar and his family at the back of the church. This is the first time you get the feeling that the site is more than just a religious building, it’s a shrine. The pictures are more than sympathetic to the Czar but what takes things over the top is the statue representing the last of the Romanov rulers and his family. There they are, below a cross, striking heroic and/or defiant poses. The czar himself is holding the famous anemic, Crown Prince Alexei, swaddled in his arms. In fact, this image of Alexei as a Christ-like figure is quite dominant in the icons throughout the church.

Myrtardom begins before entry

Romanovs' as Religious Icons

Chapel of the Grand Duchess Elizabeth and Nun Barbara

Speaking of the church, it is all quite beautiful on the inside. Like all Orthodox churches, the inside is filled with icons that are surrounded by candles as the smell of incense wafts through the air. There is a bit of a different feel in this church, first because it is quite new, not ancient like many of the others throughout the country. The other difference is that also is a museum. As you move from the main altar to the side rooms you find various displays about the czar, his family, and the city during those days. I’m not sure if it is the exhibition changes but my guess is that this one is representative of the 100^th anniversary of the Czar’s death. As I made my way through the chapel and museum, I came about the spot where the Nicholas and his family were brutally murdered. There are plaques dedicated to all members of the family and the servants who died with them. Visitors are not allowed to come too close, nor are they allowed to take pictures. I was once again taken aback by the icons showing the Romanovs in a holy light. There they stand, surrounded by angels above, and family members nearby. (No sign of Rasputin at all) Crown Prince Alexi is front and center, the Chosen One, under rays of soft light. 

Example of Martyr Iconography

The more I look at these icons and museum displays I wonder who was checking their history books. While family was cruelly murdered, we should not forget that there was a Russian Revolution for a reason. The Romanovs were autocratic rulers who were quite out of touch with their (mainly) peasant subjects. Nicholas II, in particular, was a hapless ruler who got his country involved in a disastrous World War I. I’m unsure whether he was cruel or evil but he definitely was no saint. Therefore, I was of two minds when it came to the church. While it is important to remember the past (are we listening, America?), we shouldn’t do these complete one-eighties. Nicholas II’s tragic death should be remembered but he, and his family, should not be elevated to the level of saints. But, with the history books so often destroyed or tampered with in Russia, I’m not totally surprised that one extreme always seems to win out at the expense of the middle. But ain’t that how many want to view history?

For the Love of (St.) Pete(rsburg)!

I was told years ago that if you threw a kopeck into the Neva River and made a wish to return, you would someday do so. I think I threw my kopeck, complete with visage of Comrade Lenin, into the Neva on a cold November day in 1992. I wasn’t sure if I would ever, indeed, return but I thought I’d set the wheel of fate in motion. Apparently, the story is true as I began my Trans-Siberian adventure in St. Petersburg on August ninetieth.

Palace Square and Winter Palace

Fortunately, St. Petersburg has changed…and it hasn’t. I think I was struck by the good mood and the smiling faces. After all, I had only seen Russia in the fall and the winter when a dour face met me on every street corner. I was also amazed at the amount of tourist groups walking around the city, invariably led by a person carrying a tiny flag that identified the nationality of the group. Before, I felt like foreign visitors were few and far between. I was also impressed by the amount of restaurants and coffee shops. As I have previously stated, back in the goodle days, most restaurants/cafes were Soviet-type affairs with substandard (to say the least) service. Now I’m helped by waitresses/waiters with smiles on their faces and a willingness to help understand the menu. I also found that the metro had been greatly improved. There were newer trains along with the old Soviet standards. Connections were easy, payment understandable, and the stations themselves were often decorated with murals and statues. The only frightening parts were the blast doors at many of the stations as well as the metal detectors at all stations. These are the result of the terror attacks not so many years ago.

When you have only two and a half days to see one of the greatest cities in the world, the inclination is to do as much as possible. That proved to be a bit shortsighted as you really need to take your time and build in meal and rest breaks. I learned this the first day when I went tramping throughout the city, trying to hit as many hot spots as possible. I walked from my hotel past the Peter and Paul Fortress over the bridge and all the way to Nevskyi Prospect. I was so intent on taking pictures that I didn’t stop to rest for at least three hours. True, I got to see Palace Square, the Hermitage, churches, but I was so worn down that I had less energy on Day Two. Instead of going to the Hermitage, the Bolshoi Ballet, and the Peter and Paul Fortress, I mainly stuck to the Fortress.

Peter and Paul Fortress from Across Neva

Closer view of Peter and Paul Fortress

The Peter and Paul (no Mary) Fortress is located on Zayachy (rabbit) Island and is the place where Petersburg began to grow. It was a military bastion as well as the burial place for a great number of the Czars. As a student of history, I was looking forward to this visit most of all. I tried to get there early but I was so worn out from my previous day’s jaunt that I was at the gate by 1100. And that’s when I saw them…the hordes and hordes of tourist groups. This was my first real interaction with them and it was not much fun. I realize that it’s difficult to be an individual traveler when everyone seems to be with a family or a tour group, or tour groups full of families. The camera and phones are in the air and no one seems to be looking where they are going. It was particularly fun inside the main church were the remains of the czars rest. I was trying to read the information plaques and snap a few discreet shots but I was constantly dodging the hordes. I guess that was a small price to pay as I got to see the graves of Catherine the Great, Peter the Great, assassinated Alexander III, and best of all, the last czar, Nicholas II and most of his family. After finding my way out of the church I made my way over to the prison. At one time the place was filled with revolutionaries who were looking to overthrow the Romanovs. Other than say, the Decembrists (not the band), I hadn’t heard of half of these groups. It was interesting to see the cells of Lenin’s brother (who died in the prison, I think) and Maxim Gorky who was briefly imprisoned here. And it wasn’t only the czars who used this place, the Soviets took full advantage of it as well; albeit, for a shorter amount of time. They are still finding the remains of former tsarist officials buried in the yard. 

Grave of Czar Peter - Who's Great Now?

Grave Alexander III

After four hours of walking around the fortress, I planned to eat and hit the next spot. But lunch ended up being a banana back at the hotel and a two-hour nap. At that point, I knew that any ideas of doing more touring were out the window. I had even planned on doing a run down by the Neva – Negative! I was able to rally and get some dinner. I also took some time to take exterior shots of the Church of the Resurrection, more commonly known as Church on the Spilled Blood. The church was built on the spot where Czar Alexander III was assassinated in 1881. I was excited that I was getting some great shots when the rain came pouring down. That pretty much was the end of my day but I felt like I had accomplished quite a bit in less than ten hours.

                                                                                            

And Then Suddenly It's (Orthodox) Christmas

Just when you think the holidays are over, along comes Orthodox Christmas. On 8 January, the Orthodox faithful head to church to profess their faith. Unlike in the West, Orthodox Christmas dispenses with shopping, presents, and Santa Claus. The Santa equivalent, Дідь Мороз (Grandfather Frost) comes on New Year's Eve to deliver gifts to all the good children. Orthodox Christmas seems to be directly about, believe it or not, the birth of Christ. Much like Western Christmas celebrations, Ukrainians go to church either at midnight or sometime during the morning. The service can last as much as three hours and there are no pews: everyone is standing. After services, families go home to celebrate with their families and to enjoy the day. For dinner families traditionally prepare twelve dishes that represent the twelve days of Christmas. Meat is not eaten, instead families will prepare fish. But the most traditional food seems to be a dessert called Kutya (кутя), a mix of berries, wheat, raisins, nuts, poppy seeds, honey, etc. This dish may go back to pre-Christian times and each ingredient symbolizes some aspect of life.  (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kutia) This is not the only connection to days of Ukraine past. You will also see the Didukh (Дідух) in many town squares. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Didukh) This symbol, which often looks like a person, is made from wheat taken from the year's harvest. It is supposed to stay in a Ukrainian household throughout the winter as a sign of hope for a successful harvest in the new year. When the spring arrives, the didukh is burnt for good luck.  

Дідух and Дідь Мороз

Approaching Church 

This Christmas was freezing, reaching minus twenty-one degrees Celsius the night before Christmas. All hopes of going to midnight mass were thwarted by the cold, the blowing snow, and my midnight curfew at the dorm. When I awoke the next morning all was still expect for the blowing snow. During the night a storm had rolled in and filled the streets with snow drifts. Fortunately, the temperature had dropped to a balmy minus sixteen degrees Celsius. Determined to not miss the holiday I dressed warmly and ventured out into the cold. As I walked through the streets at nine thirty, I was struck by the stillness, the beauty, and the cold. I soldiered on, passing very few people, intent on seeing a Christmas mass. As I approached the church I could hear the prayers and the heavenly singing. I walked in the door, walked towards the main chapel...just in time for the mass to end and to see everyone head home. Rats!  Alas, all was not lost! Although it took another trip, I was able to get to the main cathedral to watch children sign Christmas Carols. Much like in America, these carols mix the religious with the seasonal. It was truly moving to hear children sing these songs even if my understanding is still far from perfect.

Children's Choir 

Cathedral Choir