Hermitage

                Today, I managed to roll out of bed at 9:30 AM for a 10 AM liturgy at Kazan Cathedral… and I was only three minutes late. Somehow, when my alarm clock went off at 9, I considered it perfectly acceptable to turn it off and make myself comfortable again. I then fully woke up a half an hour later, got dressed, and set a brisk pace to the Cathedral, a ten minute walk away (please stop to appreciate that: the seat of the Bishop of St. Petersburg, containing the Kazan Mother of God, is a ten minute walk from my hotel). So, by the grace of God, and with no little engineering from His Mother, I actually went to church. After being up until 3 the night before drinking and internet surfing (relax, I didn’t commune on a stomach full of vodka and cognac).

                I am happy to report that the curiosity of tea used as zapivka, rather than watered down manischewitz, is not only a Muscovite tradition, but seems to apply to Russia in general (or at least Petersburg, too). Orthodox in America: can we please begin rallying for this? The concept of tea after Communion is still the best thing in the world in my mind. Can we import it? Pretty please?

                Of course, I also got stepped on (as in DC, Russians in church have no use for lines, personal space, or gentle movement through crowds), and highly admire the voice of one of the deacons. It’s such a ridiculously deep bass, and it’s so strong. I realize he got the job as a deacon at the cathedral of Petersburg for a reason, but it’s still awesome… great voice, and he knows his stuff. The clergy also ended liturgy with a special prayer service (too short to be a molieben) to the Kazan icon, asking for her protection, and the salvation of the Russian people. And some more practical points: in both of the churches in which I have attended liturgy in this country, it seems that pony tails and full beards were not required of priests (some had goatees, and most had short hair), the sticheria were omitted from the Beatitudes, and gender segregation was not an issue. All of these points are characteristic of ROCOR, the traditional Russian church in America. I’m curious as to why the Mother country seems to have let these older practices die, whilst being more strict in some other things (i.e., clothing – my friend was turned away from Christ the Savior for her skirt length). My best guess is that priests, bishops, and babushki have to pick their battles, and these were not amongst them.

                Anyway, afterward I headed off to the Hermitage with everyone else. It is partially composed of the historical Winter Palace of the Romanovs (imagine! Summer Palace one day, and Winter Palace the next!) and is simply overwhelming in its size. It is one of those art galleries that you could literally spend your entire life in, and never get sick of it. Also, the Winter Palace looks legitimately comfortable, unlike the gaudy Summer Palace, where one is afraid to even touch the walls, lest they break or are soiled. It was almost overwhelming, compared to the Tretyakov. I only had two and a half hours to try to see as much as I could, and so I ended up rushing around attempting to absorb rooms  as a whole in five minutes, when I could really spend a day in each. I really need to go back at some point before this trip is over (it should be free or very cheap, with the student discount).

                Finally, my group finished off the day with a dinner (on UVA’s tab) at a Dostoevsky-themed restaurant called “The Idiot.” It was so beautiful. They had a dish named for Raskolnikov, a drink called Crime and Punishment, and multiple things named for The Idiot. They also provided a free shot of vodka with every meal, which we used at the end to toast Dostoevsky. This place looked like the perfect Englishmens’ club, where smoking jackets would be completely normal. So classy.