This past weekend, I, along with CIEE, boarded a tour bus and traveled to Pskov, Pushkinskiye Gory, Izborsk, and Pechory - small towns in western Russia near the border of the Baltic States. The further we got from Saint Petersburg, the greener and warmer it became. By the time we arrived at our first destination, Pskov, it was 20 degrees Celsius, sunny, and there were people walking around in t-shirts! I even saw a few women walking around in t-shirts, which is definitely a first, most young women that I have seen in Russia look as if they are models. Either that, or the women are short, sometimes aggressive babushkas who will wrestle their way onto the various modes of transportation without hesitancy or shame. We had a mediocre lunch at a hotel restaurant before embarking on the Pskov Kremlin tour. Pskov is an interesting place - in medieval times, or before, I cannot quite remember, any foreigner who entered the gates of the Kremlin would be executed. Lovely. There have been many powers that have tried to conquer Pskov, but Pskov only fell once, and that is impressive. At one time, it was a major religious and political center before Muscovites overpowered it in the 16th Century and it declined further when Saint Petersburg was established in the early 18th Century. I do find it fitting that in the week or two leading up to this trip, I had been listening to Yuri Temirkanov's
Alexander Nevsky on my iPod, which tells the story of a famous battle in 1241 that took place around Pskov. The story is also dramatized in Sergei Eistenstein's 1938 film of the same name.
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| Pskov Kremlin and the Trinity Cathedral |
After touring Pskov, we again boarded the bus and drove for another two hours before reaching Pushkinskiye Gory and Mikhailovskoye. It was here that famous Russian poet, Aleksandr Pushkin, spent two years in exile writing some of his most well-known work, including a portion of his novel in verse,
Eugene Onegin. We arrived in the early evening, checked into our hotel - which looked more like something you would find in Wisconsin or Michigan than in Russia - and went to dinner. Dinner was good until I found out there were large globs of egg on my chicken at which point eating became a lot slower and forced (just shows how often I eat egg). I should backtrack a little bit and explain that the hotel in which we were staying was way out in the Russian countryside, at least two hours from any kind of significant city. I liked that. A lot. I liked it because it meant fresh air, quiet, warmth, and spring. It also meant that I would get to see the countryside and the small villages that dot it, something that has been recommended to me time and again and something I have wanted to do since arriving in Russia. The road linking our hotel with the restaurant passed along a serene lake, but the scene on the road itself was not so pleasant. By night, it was alive with frogs, but by day, a graveyard. It took more effort than one might think to avoid squishing frogs or stepping on ones that were already dead.
In the evening, following dinner, Ely, Amanda, and I ventured off into the forest where we stumbled upon a small summer camp that had not yet opened for the season. We ended up spending a couple of hours exploring the woods, the camp, and the quiet fields that were just beyond the camp. It was at this point that we decided to return once darkness descended completely across the land. This time of year, in the northern parts of Russia, darkness does not fall until at least 10 pm, and of course, until June 21, the time will move later and later still. However, when night finally did roll in, the three of us set off into the woods using only the light of the moon to guide us. The moon was shining bright enough to cast shadows, even through the tall trees, enough that we could see each other and the path that lied ahead. At some point during our walk through the woods, I told Amanda and Ely to stop. I wanted them to hear what I heard: nothing. It was absolutely silent. There were no dogs barking, no birds chirping, no vehicles, no people, no wind rustling the branches of trees, just silence. The silence enveloped us, overwhelmed us, swallowed us. I could feel my heart begin to palpitate in my chest, adrenaline running through my blood - my senses felt heightened and alert. It was magic.
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| Arts Camp |
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| "Listen to the music of the forest" |
When we stepped out onto the field, we turned our attention upward to the sky and the array of stars that were scattered across it. Because of the moon, we were not able to get a real stellar display, but it was cool nonetheless. I even saw a shooting star! I found the constellation, the Big Dipper, and tried hard to locate the Little Dipper, but I am not sure if I had success on that front, especially when it came to subsequently trying to identify the North Star. We gazed for awhile until we became too chilled and embarked, once again, through the forest. We stopped several more times to listen, it was definitely becoming noisier. Twice, we were even greeted by people motorcycling, although I doubt either of them saw us as we hid in the trees to watch them pass.
Experiencing this place, it is easy to understand from where Pushkin drew inspiration - it inspired me.
The next morning, we started our planned tours nice and early, first to the monastery where Pushkin is buried, and then onto Mikhailovskoye, Pushkin's estate. I discovered on this trip that I did not bring the most appropriate form of footwear to Russia as my autumn city boots were just not cutting it with all the country walking. My feet were in much pain by the end of the day! Anyway, lunch again consisted of egg, this time with fish, and again I found it difficult to stomach. After lunch, we toured an early Russian village and mill.
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| Burial site of Aleksandr Pushkin |
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| Mikhailovskoye (Pushkin's estate). |
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| I had to pose with Pushkin. |
Dinner came and went, thankfully without egg, and evening once again rolled in. Ely and I decided to explore another country road, but I had to return early to prepare for my first visit to the Russian banya.
Banyas are similar to steam baths, but usually in steam baths you are not "beaten" with birch branches. The bundle is called веник (
venik) and it supposedly helps with circulation. In the steam room, temperatures can exceed 150 degrees Fahrenheit (I don't know how this is quite possible without dying, but it is). Once we became good and hot and sweaty, we ran outside and jumped into the cold pool water. I am guessing that the air temperature was only in the 50s, chilly, to say the least. But, boy, was it invigorating! I ended up jumping in the water four times. I think this particular experience is a testament to my increasing boldness - there was a time when I doubt I could have done something like this with such ease. In all honesty, I am a bit surprised by myself, I did not think I would be able to jump in the cold water - but I did and I am proud of myself for doing it! Not only that, I felt so good and fresh and clean! My skin felt soft and my feet finally stopped hurting. It was liberating.
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| This is what a typical banya looks like. (Courtesy of Wikipedia). |
That evening, I chatted with Ely and some other friends, while simultaneously observing the other Americans on the program clean out the hotel cooler of beer. At this time, a very drunk Russian man in his forties tried to infiltrate the group of Americans by singing loud music indicative of Russia and the Red Army Choir. While all of this was happening, including chatting with my friends, I downed some kebabs, fresh peppers, and nearly an entire large bottle of kvas.
The next morning, we checked out of the hotel, hopped on the bus, and left Pushkinskiye Gory. On the outbound trip, I sat beside Ely and had the fortune of sitting on the second level in the very front. I had panoramic views! Of course, I also was able to bear witness to the insane driving of Russians... A little while later, we arrived in Izborsk. There, we toured the ancient fortress of Izborsk, and tasted Russian spring water blessed by monks. Afterwards, we boarded the bus once again and drove to the village of Pechory. Pechory is close to Estonia, so close in fact, my phone thought we were in Estonia. We visited the Pskov-Pechersky Dormition Monastery that was founded in the 15th Century and is the only monastery in Russia never to close, even during the Soviet period! Thus, it holds very special significance for Russian Orthodox Christians.
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| Izborsk Fortress |
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| Holy spring water in Izborsk. |
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| The Pechory Monastery |
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| The Pechory Monastery |
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| The Pechory Monastery |
Finally, it was time to return to Saint Petersburg, so we boarded the bus and drove the four hours home.
I wanted to conclude this blog by sharing a quote with you. It is not Russian, but I think it fits the mood I was in this past weekend:
"I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in." - John Muir, 1913
