A New Year's Sampling

The New Year's season in Vladivostok has brought some renewed social activity and, especially during the long break from work that is now a pretty well ingrained tradition in Putin's Russia, some new wintry activities.

The interesting thing to me about a lot of these New Year's events is that, despite having spent a bunch of time in Russia before, I guess since that was without a kid and sometimes involved taking advantage of the holidays as a time to get away, I never got to see some of the things Russians associate very closely (and enthusiastically) with New Year's.

I should note that, thanks to the official atheism of Soviet times, Russian New Year's encompasses a lot of the kinds of celebration that Americans associate with both Christmas (and in fact also Thanksgiving, given that it comes so close to Christmas) and New Year's. You get the family-oriented time of Thanksgiving and Christmas, the gift-giving traditions of Christmas, and the dress-up, go-out-and-party ethos of New Year's all rolled into one holiday. And even though anyone who wants to is now free to celebrate Orthodox Christmas, it seems like this latter holiday is either more singularly a religious occasion, centered around the church and spiritual life, and/or an added chance for family-centered gift-exchanges, rather than supplanting the familiar New Year's traditions for which I can now fully see Russians have a great fondness.

Thanks to a friend from VladMama, Anya and I both experienced our first "Yolka," the traditional children's New Year's party that takes its name from the holiday fir tree that is its centerpiece. Kids apparently tend to go to more than one of these, or probably as many as their family can afford, and at the very least a morning New Year's party (utrennik) with all the same trappings we experienced is de rigueur for those who attend preschool in Russia. Perhaps the most unusual aspect of the utrennik for an American is the fact that all kids wear costumes to the party (as our nanny Marina confirmed for me, if we were to go to the party in just regular clothes or even party clothes, people would definitely think we were weird parents). So, after I first fretted over how to make time to go and buy a costume, and what might be the least amount of money I could get away with spending on it, Marina came to the rescue and reminded me that the Jack-o-lantern costume she'd seen tucked away in the closet would make a fine costume, and had none of the associations with Halloween here that might have caused a few raised American eyebrows were we to wear it anytime outside of October in the US.

So we set out to the VladMama-sponsored party as a "tykovka," a little pumpkin, together with our friends Nina (fellow VladMamochka) and her daughter, Vika (who was dressed as a princess). It was really quite a morning, especially since the smaller of our pair (well, heck, and the larger of us, too) is not all that used to interacting with very many others at one time, especially not a crowd of excited, screaming kids, running around in all directions in anticipation of Ded Moroz (Grandfather Frost, or the twentieth-century version of Santa Claus that is still very much a Russian cultural icon).

There are some videos of this on YouTube: two help you to imagine the jubilation that was on display even during the preparatory stages, prior even to Santa's warm-up act of a Rabbit and a Wolf with a very witty repartee, and probably a full half-hour before Moroz made his big appearance and had us hopping and touching our toes and guessing various things and dancing around the holiday tree. All with his usual sidekick, the beautiful young snow-bunny Snegurochka. The third video shows Anya off to the side, reveling in the miracle of the Velcro that was intended to hold her costume on, and ignoring the kids and moms dancing in a circle and awaiting the time of the party when Moroz would hand out the presents.

Imagine my surprise when it turned out that we had not really flown under the radar, but that "Tykovka" was actually one of a handful of guests at the party who were discussed and admired online on the VladMama forums. The general consensus was that Tykovka was a real cutie.

What other parts of Russian New Year's did we experience for the first time, with fresh eyes, or with a new twist? The work/professional New Year's party, now in its post-Soviet incarnation (we splurged for the VIBA [Vladivostok International Business Association] Christmas/New Year's party). We do not yet have photographic or video evidence, but Dan was an avid (if reluctant) participant in the silly reverie that is the adult version of the children's utrennik. (My armchair interpretation of why Russians are so extremely fond of New Year's is that not only do adults engage in some heavy nostalgia during this period, everyone gets to be a kid during the extended festivities -- and much more than we tend to in American Christmas or New Year's celebrations.)

[As you might have gleaned from this post, our closer look at post-Soviet New Year's has given me new interest in this as a cultural and historical phenomenon. If you're curious like me, here is one interesting (Russian) article I found exploring some of the roots of the familiar twentieth-century New Year's traditions that Russians continue to enjoy, and which themselves continue to evolve, today. And here is a blurb and photoessay tracing the New Year's Yolka from its 1936 reintroduction into Soviet life up to the (recent) present.]

We also -- again thanks to my friend Nina -- were able to see the latest cinema craze to hit Russia: a sequel to the very classic New Year's movie "The Irony of Fate (or, Happy Steaming!)" (that is obviously a rough translation: the parenthetical part of the title refers to the engine of all the mischief of the 1975 original, where vodka plus banya plus a trip to the airport plus the monotony of Soviet architecture and city planning equal mayhem on New Year's Eve). The annual viewing and the antics of the plot easily bring to mind a Soviet version of "It's a Wonderful Life." The 2007 version of the New Year's movie has a similar scenario of mistaken identity and mistaken location playing out among the adult children of the pair(s) who were central to the original movie. And in grand Russian capitalist style, it featured loads of annoying product placements. But it was fun -- so much so that I planned the following day, December 31, around the scheduled TV broadcast of the original.

Finally, what else? Well, probably that's it for New Year's and maybe I should leave it there, and promise to report on the more general outdoor winter sporting and recreational activities at a later date. You can see some scant pictures of this on our Flickr pages.

And now for an update in other categories...:

What We're Saying:

ah-choo!: "Aaah-TCHEEE!" (Cf. What We're Listening To)

water?!: "wa-wa" (so far almost exclusively, in the two days I've noticed it used, in reference to a cup or bottle of some liquid)

hi: "hai," "ha," and sometimes even an honest-to-goodness "hi"

Edgar (the cat): "Adda," "Agga"

Sanchez (the cat): "Didi," "Didji"

omelette: "omma" (Cf. What We're Eating)



Responses:
1. Question: What do ducks say?

Response: "Wock, wock!"



2. Word said: Bear (teddy or otherwise)

Response: [smile, close eyes, hold hands and arms to tummy] (= hug!)



3. Shape seen: "A" (Cf. What We're Eating: Anya cookies)

Response: "Aing!" (or even "Anya!")



Points to in response to the word:

Ears, eyes, mouth, teeth, nose.

Also much pointing to head and recent fascination with belly buttons (own and parents').



What We're Eating:

pan-seared duck breast with mushroom-red wine reduction sauce, with spinach salad

(fancy night! thanks to Dan)



omelettes

(Hot Feeding Tip from Anya Kronenfeld: If your toddler refuses to eat something, even something she ate with gusto just yesterday, or even this morning, just cut/mash/puree it and add it to scrambled egg and a little milk to make a pan-fried omelette. Fool's 'em every time!)



cassoulet

(mmm! but rich -- note to self: limit portion size next time)



Simple Things: non-instant oatmeal ("Gerkules" to Russians) with fruit (dried or fresh) and brown sugar almost every morning; chicken and rice/arroz con pollo with homegrown windowsill basil; roast vegetable and Molinari's pepperoni and salami pizza


"Anya cookies" (see below for recipe)



Recipe for Anya cookies (with apologies to Joy of Cooking):

Cream 1/2 c. white sugar with 1/2 c. unsalted President butter.

Beat in 1 tsp. vanilla from your belated honeymoon to Tahiti;

2 Ussuriisk eggs;

2 1/2 c. sifted all-purpose flour;

2 tsp. double-acting baking powder, Clabber Girl, brought from home;

1/2 tsp. salt.

Chill 3-4 hours (or 3-4 days) before rolling.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

Roll on a lightly floured cutting board. The play rolling mat from your old toy baking set will do just fine.

Use your only cookie cutter (heart-shaped), or look for something in your shape-sorter toy (especially suitable is the "A" shape for "Anya) to use as substitute cutter.

Place cookies on greased cookie sheet. You may decorate them with sugar, or sugar and cinnamon. Makes several days' worth of extra-small not-too-sweet cookies that little girls named Anya love very much.



The Most Unlikely Toys From Around the House:

A ribbon

Your winter hat with the ear flaps

Measuring spoons and cups, preferably in a combination of plastic and metal

Tupperware

Bibs



What We're Listening To:

"Jim Gill sings the Sneezing Song and other Contagious Tunes" (especially good for laughs: The Sneezing Song; Cf. What We're Saying. also fun, esp. when mom pantomimes: Silly Dance Contest)


Sun Kil Moon, "Tiny Cities" (songs from Modest Mouse in a very different mood)