Consumerism -- It's Everywhere You Want to Be

Russia doesn't celebrate Christmas the way America celebrates Christmas. This isn't the effect of some pernicious war on Christmas. Christmas is a religious holiday, not a secular gift-giving holiday. I was looking forawrd to not having to deal with the American build-up to commerical Christmas, beginning as it does now right after Halloween.

However, in Russia, the gift-giving partying holiday involving a tree and generous magical figures with beards is New Year's. The tree is called a yolka.

There are already two up in the shopping drag near the university. My friends, who are more observant say that they've been up for a couple of weeks now.

Yep. Right after Halloween -- even in a country that doesn't really do Halloween.

Oh, yeah, it's snowing. And there is ice on the Neva and the Gulf of Finland. I am approximately four years old.

Moscow Part 4: Novodevichy Monastery and Cemetery

Have I mentioned that I want to be a monk? But not a nun.

Before you are photographs taken at the Novodevichy Monastery, which at some point in the history of Moscow, was on the outskirts of Moscow. It has a long history of housing politically troublesome women in exile. It’s also quite a pretty place – there would be worse exiles, I suppose.

Here’s a wall. Yes, it’s supposed to look rather defensive.

An impressive tower.

Look! Trees! Green! Church!

Part 4 B: I looked on Yelstin’s grave from afar, but was too interested in finding Gogol to walk over.

Russian cemeteries are a trip and a half. They seem to be very attached to including images of the deceased somewhere in the grave marking (I suspect the derives from the iconography tradition – although, I’m not certain.) Some of these images can get quite impressive.

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

You’ve already seen and heard about Gogol (and if you haven’t, skip done to Dead Lenin).

They put Mikhail Bulgakov in the grave Gogol vacated when he was moved. In a strange way, I feel both writers would have appreciated the entire, sordid story.

Moscow Part 3: Red Square and the Kremlin

It’s big. Bigger than I had imagined. It’s also slightly sloped. (Moscow’s gentle hills are tiring after being spoiled by Saint Petersburg’s flatness.)

And in general – it’s rather impressive.

I’m a church junkie. Have some pictures of a church. The Church of Out Lady of Vladimir, I believe. Quite pretty.

After DEAD LENIN, we went through Saint Basil’s – which contains the first icon of

Saint Mary of Egypt that I’ve seen in Russia. Incidentally, whoever painted it wimped out and gave her a hair shirt.

Saint Basil’s is a warren of cramped stairwells, passages, and chapels. It’s also extremely beautiful and extremely surreal. Granted, the sort of heady, otherworldy sensation, might have been due to climbing up a spiral stairwell in which each stair was roughly a foot high – but it was

still an interesting effect.

Unfortunately, I have no pictures inside, as I didn’t chance it without a photo ticket. Also, I hate taking pictures in churches, because things don’t come out without a flash, and with a flash, you lose the ambience.

To the Kremlin.

I find it very Russian to have a flowerbed of decorative cabbage.

This is from the bridge you walk over to get to the Kremlin – after you go through a metal detector. Moscow loves metal detectors, by the way. I understand why you would have the at the Kremlin. At a hotel that isn’t even in the center of the city – not so much.

My cannon is bigger than your cannon.

Icon of Sophia, Divine Wisdom on the wall of a church in the Kremlin. Russia is groovy like that.

Always, always, look up. Yes. I played with the filter. No, I really didn’t take out much color. Russia’s like that. I think that’s why they have candy-colored churches.

Oh, yes, this is the Kremlin at night. Shot from the bridge. Pretty, pretty, pretty. Cold, cold, cold.