Priests and the Holy Father of the Church of the Monestary stand on the river, next to an ice cross sculpture, blessing the waters of the Aydar; people of all ages gather to honor the holiday of Orthodox Epiphany or to take the plunge into the icy river; Olga after her self-baptism.I went to the river with my friend Olga on 19 January for the annual Orthodox Epiphany holiday called Krishenia (крищение). I had just finished a blog on religion, ironically, when she called to invite me. I asked several people what it was all about and they said vague things about water being blessed by priests and having special curative powers, and people jumping into the river. Through the ice? Yes, through the ice and into the water. There's a special religious holiday for this? I finally figured out, with some help from PCV Stacey, that it is an Orthodox holy day celebrating the baptism of Jesus Christ.
The priests from the Church of the Monestary held a service on the hard iced-over river, standing next to a cross carved out of ice, sparkling white and very beautiful. They blessed the water in a series of colorful rituals, dipped a wooden cross into the river three times, and said a few words about loving one another (Olga translating). It's the only time of year, as far as I know, that the priests comes out of the Monestary and into the community. After blessing the water and proceeding back to the Monestary, just a few blocks away, the priests dipped bouguets of dried basil and other herbs into jugs filled with the river water and sprayed the crowd, blessing them, washing away sins, purifying them. It's like being reborn, a celebration that reminded me of the Easter holiday.
After the service, many brave and hardy souls, Olga among them, took turns plunging into the icy water in a ritual of self-baptism. A hole had been cut through the ice and a ladder secured so people could climb in and out if they preferred this more delicate approach to jumping in. I shivered at the thought of either option. Security police and medics stood by in case of emergencies. I saw many people I knew and they were glad to see the Amerikanka joining in this special holiday. Of course they all joked with me about taking the plunge, ready to help me strip and jump.
PCVs do lots of interesting things but this seemed beyond the call of duty. It was -22 degrees, a normal Ukrainian winter day, bright, sunny and frigid. The weather did not deter the devout. The icicles on homes and buildings and trees along the river glistened in the sun, as dozens of men and women took the plunge. I captured Olga as she got out of the water, her eyes glowing, shimmering crystals on her face, standing in bare feet on the ice, her cloudy breathe the only thing providing some warmth.
I could never do it, I told Olga. She said she had felt that way long ago, but now she is not afraid of the cold water. “I feel better,” she said, “refreshed and energized.” At a time when Olga is worrying about her frail mother's health, rapidly declining; her daughter's need for documentation that she was born in Ukraine but now resides in Russia; and the daily struggle for survival, Olga got a needed boast. The river bathed her soul and renewed her courageous fighting spirit. Epiphany for the people.
The priests from the Church of the Monestary held a service on the hard iced-over river, standing next to a cross carved out of ice, sparkling white and very beautiful. They blessed the water in a series of colorful rituals, dipped a wooden cross into the river three times, and said a few words about loving one another (Olga translating). It's the only time of year, as far as I know, that the priests comes out of the Monestary and into the community. After blessing the water and proceeding back to the Monestary, just a few blocks away, the priests dipped bouguets of dried basil and other herbs into jugs filled with the river water and sprayed the crowd, blessing them, washing away sins, purifying them. It's like being reborn, a celebration that reminded me of the Easter holiday.
After the service, many brave and hardy souls, Olga among them, took turns plunging into the icy water in a ritual of self-baptism. A hole had been cut through the ice and a ladder secured so people could climb in and out if they preferred this more delicate approach to jumping in. I shivered at the thought of either option. Security police and medics stood by in case of emergencies. I saw many people I knew and they were glad to see the Amerikanka joining in this special holiday. Of course they all joked with me about taking the plunge, ready to help me strip and jump.
PCVs do lots of interesting things but this seemed beyond the call of duty. It was -22 degrees, a normal Ukrainian winter day, bright, sunny and frigid. The weather did not deter the devout. The icicles on homes and buildings and trees along the river glistened in the sun, as dozens of men and women took the plunge. I captured Olga as she got out of the water, her eyes glowing, shimmering crystals on her face, standing in bare feet on the ice, her cloudy breathe the only thing providing some warmth.
I could never do it, I told Olga. She said she had felt that way long ago, but now she is not afraid of the cold water. “I feel better,” she said, “refreshed and energized.” At a time when Olga is worrying about her frail mother's health, rapidly declining; her daughter's need for documentation that she was born in Ukraine but now resides in Russia; and the daily struggle for survival, Olga got a needed boast. The river bathed her soul and renewed her courageous fighting spirit. Epiphany for the people.
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