Just in time for the anniversary

I’ve finally managed to get up all the pictures from the wedding so you can take a look here. You can also take a look at the story of our lives here.

The big transition

It’s official: life as an un-duchessed duke is over; a duchess has been crowned in the Sacrament of crowning (то есть венчание). Referring to that sacred union, one famous man of the cloth has explained it as that “bwessed awwangement, that dweam wiffim a dweam.” I will, at least for now, agree with part of that assessment as my wife and I are currently arranging ourselves into a diminutive bedroom, which I have been renting since December, while we wait for our own apartment to be de-arranged of its current inhabitants.

As I have communicated before, our crowns and rings were bestowed in the church of St. Antipas of Pergamus where we have been attending services for some months. The day of the wedding started out as did many of the days of the previous two weeks: light rain and heavily overcast skies. This was not our choice weather for the wedding day but many people, concerning that coincidence, expressed that rain on a wedding is actually a good sign. The crowning itself went off without a shotgun once a certain party arrived in typical (even over typical) orthodox fashion. (According to Fr. Dmitry we were following the Greek tradition.) Fr. Dmitry was kind enough to even struggle through some prayers and litanies in English while the choir also sang several hymns and the “Our Father” in English. I have just received the professional photographs so they will soon be available for your viewing pleasure, but for now this will have to satiate:

Following the wedding we, following Russian tradition, released a pair of doves. We had planned on walking around down town to be photographed at various places (also according to Russian tradition) but the rain prevented. Therefore we limited ourselves to visiting St. Tatiana’s Church (where Sveta attended for about 10 years). We next proceeded to our reception which we had in the dining hall at St. Tikhon’s Orthodox University (where Sveta teaches). At said reception many toasts were raised, songs were sung, dances were danced and food was consumed. I don’t know if it’s another Russian tradition but it turned out that the bride and groom were present until the bitter end when decorations were being dismantled and tabled were being turned. In the end they were whisked off (after stopping several times for directions) to their hotel in the far reaches of Moscow.

Following day the happy couple packed their bags, headed to the train station, missed a train or two, and were off for the two hour ride to a little place of rest and relaxation called Verbilki.

Arriving at Verbilki we took a taxi to “preventorium” Verbilki:

At said “preventorium” we stayed in a loving one room accommodation in this cottage:

When we weren’t enjoying movies and cartoons in our room we walked around and delighted in the surroundings:

did a little exercise:

and fed the wild animals:

(note: one of the wild ones in the above picture is the bride)

As my internet connection has decided to be mean and not let me upload anymore photos to this blog, you’ll have to enjoy the rest here.

It’s the most busiest time of the year

Just in case anyone has been wondering…I’ve been a little too busy with final wedding preparations and such to keep this here log up to date.

The joy of the feast

Well I’ve made it through my first (an hopefully not my last) Pascha in Holy Rus. As I’m sure most of you know, practically all of Russia celebrates this feast giving rise to the PC Orthodox (no, that’s not "politically correct Orthodox [although that's an "interesting" idea to ponder]," that’s "Pascha and Christmas Orthodox"). This fact was evidenced when the legal and I were heading to St. Antipas which is just a block away from Christ the Saviour Cathedral where the street was completely blocked off for the procession and crowds of people were waiting. (Many people simply go on the procession for what I assume is a "fulfillment" of their duties and the right to proclaim themselves Orthodox.) Exiting the metro we also saw quite a few male PC Orthodox waiting for their dates for the big night.

After our detour around a large city block we made it to our own little church, the main part of which was already full. A little word about St. Antipas’ church: it has a grand total of five altars but only one of which is in use. The others are being restored slowly. So the main church holds probably about 100 people while there is another church adjacent which holds about the same. Behind this is another church which has been made into a narthex. All three of these churches eventually were filled to the brim.

Here’s a little visual: (the main church is the one with darker shading around it; and if you’re wondering where the fifth church is, it is below the church at the bottom of the drawing)

So as I was serving in the altar I didn’t have the pleasure of battling this Paschal plenitude (although there was quite a crowd in the altar with approximately 12 servers plus two priests and a deacon). When it came time for the procession the horde processed and processed and processed. When the head of the procession made it around the church the tail was still trickling out for another 5 or 10 minutes. All told the service ended just about 4 AM and those who wished broke the fast in the trapeza:

The legal and I were both pretty tired so we didn’t stay long; just long enough to scarf a scumptious slab of fleshmeat and top it off with some deluxe dairy.

We then made our ways to our respective beds and commenced our Paschal rest.

That evening we made our way to the flat of my fellow American Thomas for the complete breaking of the fast and the belt:

The goods:

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Random reflections

Here’s some more great Moscow architecture for you:

A lamp makes all the difference:

This is not only excellent architecture, but an amazing paint job as well:

Heed apropos notice:

…and pay attention to grammatical errors.

Protecting flowers is a good thing:

A “lovely” new construction:

It seems that in order to attract they’ve decided to put in a “grand” childrens playground:

(Russia is forever)

Under the shadow of the Kremlin:

Some people still think that they’re children:

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Patriarchal priyom

Here’s a question: What would you think if you were standing in the altar, having just taken off your stikhar, heard a child scream, and, following that, saw the priest run into the altar shouting to give him his vestments, stat? Like me, you might think that the wrath of God rained down upon an unworthy venerator of the plaschanitsa. This, however, was an incorrect thought. In reality this was the frantic reaction to the news that Patriarch Alexey himself was entering the church at that moment. According to tradition, His Holiness, without announcement, visits a number of churches on Holy Saturday. After venerating the plaschanitsa and gospel, he gave a short greeting upon the feast and was on to his next church on the list.

Having no idea what was going on until I saw His Holiness at the door I was unable to get my camera which was on the other side of the church so I do not have any pictures of this wonderful event. Many pictures were taken by a photographer but, however, only two were posted on the above linked page. I will attempt to acquire pictures from other people who did have cameras and post them here.

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The light of Christ shines over Moscow

Reminding you that meat is now sweet:

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Optina Pustyn - Update

(After laboriously uploading all of my remaining pictures from the pilgrimage, I forgot to put a link to them here so you can find said link at the end of the post.)

I said that I wouldn’t have time to post this until Monday but some time presented itself to me and I availed.

For those who don’t know about Optina (even for those who do) here is a short summary of its elders from the 19th century, and here are further introductions and councils of some more elders. Here is a narrative about a pilgrimage in 1908. And finally, here is a longer life of its most famous elder, Elder Ambrose.

In the wee hours of the morning, my legal wife and I met our fellow travelers from Molodaya Rus at the Optina representation church in the south of Moscow and were off for the four hour trip. We were all of two large tour busses and approximately 60-70 people. The trip started, as all good trips should start, with prayer; the pilgrimage guide reading various prayers for travel, then putting on an excellent tape of the canons before communion.

The Russian country side:

The tour bus:

As was explained by the pilgrimage guide we had a pretty busy schedule for the weekend including a tour of the monastery and skete, the akathist to the Optina elders, the vigil, the early liturgy, and a visit to Shamordino (stress on the final “o” I recently learned).

Arriving at Optina at approximately 12 we were assigned rooms in the pilgrim hotel:

This is the new hotel which has approximately 30 rooms with beds in each for 6-8 people, I believe.

And this is the old hotel:

The monastery gates:

We next had a little tour of the monastery (it was actually just standing in one place by one of the churches and listening to someone talk about the monastery) to which I didn’t pay very much attention

I did, however, catch these pious old pilgrims:

After this little tour we walked to St. John the Forerunner Skete (located approximately a quarter mile from the monastery) and were told all about the skete.

On the way to the skete:

The skete entry:

The cell where a number of the elders lived:

“…in one half women are received from the outside entrance, and in the other, from the inside entrance (through the skete gates), men are received.”

Here is the “Ambrosian Well,” referring to Elder Ambrose.

Having a little free time before the akathist to the Optina elders my legal wife and I stepped into a few churches and venerated the relics of several elders. We also visited the chapel which was recently built over the graves of the three monks who were martyred in 1993. Another longer article about them here. (The chapel is on the left in the picture.)

Next on the aggenda was lunch in the trapeza for pilgrims. The process is as such: all pilgrims are called into the trapeza in groups, squeezed into their places at tables for 12 (where your back is cozily rubbing up against the person behind you)

and set to the tasty gruel:

The akathist to the Optina elders was in the church of the Vladimir Icon of the Theotokos. In this church are located the relics of Elders Lev, Makarius, Hilarion, Anatole I, Joseph, Barsanuphius, and Anatole II:

After the akathist the legal and I decided to visit the spring of St. Pafnuty of Borovsk which is located approximately a half a mile outside of the monastery. (Read about St. Pafnuty here.) (As to why this spring is in honour of St. Pafnuty, my legal or I do not know.) Here in Holy Rus, as in other Orthodox countries, it’s traditional to dip in such holy springs (three times), no matter the weather, and further not to dry oneself off afterwards. Wanting to have my own dip for awhile this was a perfect opportunity, if only I could command the courage and crack the cold. With the encouragement of the legal I gathered my gumption and made the plunge. (Sidenote that my recent visits to a sauna have helped me to become slightly more adept at braving cold water.) So when I entered the little hut which contains the pool for dipping (it has one section for men and one for women) I was alone but soon joined by two middle-school aged kids. They were both obviously not totally excited about getting into the water but desirous of the blessing thereof. That being said, the method they used was to enter into the water, dunk themselves, come out again, collect their courage, and enter the water again. As it was my first time I followed their example. When I was coming out of the water from my final dunk several older men came into the hut. Once they started dipping (three times in quick succession) I realized I had made a terrible, cold mistake… Maybe I’ll be blessed further for such extreme self sacrifice…

The pool into which I dipped: (I would have pictures of me actually dipping but they would be rather indecent)

Following this we headed back to the monastery to attend the vigil in the Church of the Kazan icon of the Theotokos, in which are located the relics of Elders Moses, Antony, and Isaac I (the Elder-Abbots of the monastery).

While this is the largest church in the monastery it was completely packed with people. I took my place at the back as I didn’t feel like pushing up closer. After a while (during the kathsima of matins) someone came through the back of the church an announced that if it was too crowded in this church, the vigil was also taking place in the Church of the Entry of the Theotokos into the Temple. As my legs needed some walking I headed over to this church in which are the relics of Elders Ambrose and Nektary.

Church of the Entry of the Theotokos into the Temple:

As I had decided that I was going to try to have a confession in Russian, the legal and I studied up on my Russian sins on the way to the monastery. Confessions started towards the end of matins so I took my place at the back of one of the “lines” (more like a crowd). After a while the legal reported that there was another priest hearing confessions and that the line wasn’t very long so I transferred my waiting to this line and had a, what I guess we can call, “successful” confession before the abbot of the monastery.

Dinner was set to be at 10 pm so after my confession we had our second grueling meal in the trapeza. Next, considering that the early liturgy started at 5:30 am, was the ever-important sleep.

Unfortunately I did not have a tripod so this is the best picture I
could get at such an early hour:

After the early liturgy and an akathist to St. Ambrose which was in the Church of the Entry of the Theotokos into the Temple we had some free time in which we visited the newest church in the monastery in which are the relics of the newest proclaimed saint of Optina, Elder Raphael (Sheichenko) who reposed in 1957.

We then met a former fellow university classmate of the legals who in turn introduced us to a hieromonk of Optina with which I may have the opportunity to help edit texts/translations in English.

With that comes to an end our stay at Optina Pustyn. We gathered our belongings and boarded the bus for Shamordino.

The gates to the Kazan Icon of the Theotokos Holy Ambrose Pustyn:

The Kazan Icon of the Theotokos Cathedral:

The guide gave a short talk about the monastery and then we spent about 30 minutes walking where we would. As for the legal and I, we purchased icons for our wedding in the bookstore, went and drew water from the spring, and venerated the icons in the cathedral.

As with all pilgrimages (besides that great pilgrimage which is human life), it came to an end and we once again boarded the bus bound for Moscow.

(You can see quite a number of additional photos here.)

Just checking in

In case you’ve been wondering due to my inactivity, I did in fact make it back from Optina. I have been laboriously working on a write-up of the trip all week, but it is now almost Holy Thursday in Moscow so I wouldn’t expect anything until Monday at the earliest. I will probably, however, quickly greet you with the apropos phrase on Sunday.

A pilgrimage

Considering that nothing rash happens between now and tomorrow afternoon, I have been blessed to visit, at long last, Optina monastery. The legal wife and I will be leaving at that notorious crack of dawn with a group of people from Molodaya Rus for an approximately day and a half stay at the monastery. Details forthcoming.

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Some random stuff

So before the current cold set it and Moscow was mild I searched far and wide and found the first dandelion which bloomed and presented it to my lovely legal wife:

In other news I present some pictures from after the Annunciation liturgy at St. Tatiana’s when the children set free some doves:

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That’s Russia for you

So after several weeks of warm temperatures, green grass, and budding trees I woke up this morning to snow/sleet and a biting wind.

Danger, Combustable Material

Just letting all my dear readers, who have been thirsting for delicious incendiaries, know that following a small sabbatical you can once again wet your whistle here.

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A bought blessing

So the legal wife and I stopped into Christ the Saviour today to get her a new (Orthodox) ring. We took a gander at the display and asked if they had my "wife’s" size and it was found. Next on the list, as any normal person would think is trying on the ring. Therein lies the problem. When the "wife" asked such a request she was denied on the grounds that the ring was blessed and she would ruin it by trying it on. (It seems that the shop keeper subscribes to the ancient heresy of extergere, a heretical reaction to the heresy of linire which says that holiness can be applied like suntan lotion.) We, however, were aloud to examine the ring after she placed it (yes, I said "she placed;" what is particular about exergere and what includes it in the gnosticism family is that certain people who have already been smeared with holiness [in gnostic terms have acquired the secret knowledge] can touch the holy things without diminishing their holiness) on a cloth. After examining the ring we decided to purchase it and at that point we were allowed to touch our purchase.

Now, putting my tongue back in its rightful place, I must say that this exchange brings up an interesting point. One could say that the reason for such an attitude to "guarding the holy things" stems from the scripture "Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine," but if so then they wouldn’t be selling icons, crosses or basically anything else in the store to any Ivan, Irina or Ignat that pops in off the street. (Let alone the many heretic tourists that I’m sure purchase "souvenirs" quite often.)

Another problem is, of course, the idea that touching something blessed somehow spoils it. Naturally, as Orthodox we have a reverence for matter in an of itself as a creation of God, and especially for things that have been further sanctified. Such things do need to be guarded, but therein begins the dilemma with mass produced "holy" items. Who is to judge whether a person is worthy or not to purchase such holy things? Maybe they should start having priests on hand to interview each person making a purchase…

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That’s a tough nut to crack

After the giant failure that was Die Hard 318, Bruce Willis, as with most washed up movie stars, was forced to revert to advertising. In this picture we see him as "one tough cookie" commanding the "taiga power of the pine nut!" In other words, "drink pine nut liqueur and you’ll be manly enough to run across glass shards like Bruce Willis in Die Hard."

Tags: Bruce Willis

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Spring is in swing

As the old maxim goes, spring is in the air. It is safe to say now that it’s regularly been in the teens (that is celsius) for a few weeks now. That old maxim has a rather interesting wiff in the current context. What wiff? you may say. For one, the rancid remains of that liquid money called gasoline. It seems to me that it is worse now than I have sensed before and if I were a scientist I might say that it’s due to the warmer temperatures. But as I am not no scientist I digress… The other less than lovely lingering is the perfume of putrid paint. Paint? you push to know. I explain. Every year here in Russia’s capital of capitalism and home of heritage that is Moscow to keep the street janitors busy they’re set to paint all the various fences around apartment yards, parks and whatnot. This is, of course, an excellent idea but what good does a little green paint do when one lives in a building like this:

As you can see, this building was in need of a little paint about ten years ago. (This is also not the “finest” example of a Moscow abode, just the closest one to my place of residence.)

One of my theories for this strange phenomenon of such attention to the fences is that Russians are so colour blind that they can only the bright colours of the fences and don’t realize they live in horribly painted buildings. The other theory is that people simply don’t look up at their surroundings and only see the little yellow fence before them.

The other problem with this excellent idea is the lack of attention to detail said street cleaners give to their task. I present you with the evidence:

As you can see, this fence has been painted several times, without any cleaning in between.

Exhibit B has the same problem and, additionally, the fact that the fence itself is rusting to pieces.

Now, switching to the really beautiful side of Moscow, I’ll present you with some modern constructions:

Not satisfied? Yea, I wasn’t either…

Tags: Moscow, spring

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Old people just wanna have fun

So a few weeks ago on Saturday my legal wife and I were at Sokolniki park in North-Eastern Moscow when we happened upon a dance floor full of elderly Muscovites. It turns out that every Saturday is old fogey dance day where music ranging from the 70s to the 90s is played, and grannies can get jiggy to their hearts content.

Thus:

Propositioning a lady to have a bite to eat:

What better way to get the real deal feel than video:

And lastly: after being turned away from the dance for being too young, this man turned his back on the whole ordeal.

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American Pie

As I’m sure you’ve all been wondering, I will give your gray matter some rest give an answer to your ponderings. The reason why my "wife" and I were "married" two months before our wedding was so that she can begin changing over all her documents in hopes of the possibility of leaving the country this summer. This involves changing both an internal an external passport, medical cards, pension card, diplomas, etc. To our surprise the first step has been fairly painless (it’s actually not very painful for me as I can’t really contribute to anything…but I sympathize…), as the internal passport took only a week. But, alas, the external passport is said to take a month… So while this is getting underway we decided to go by the homeland of America in Russia that is the embassy and find out how I can get my "legal wife" legally into the states. It seemed obvious to me to once again use the same entrance I had the previous time (the one marked "for U.S. Citizens") which we did. I told my "wife" that she couldn’t come in because it was for US citizens only but we decided to see if they just might let her in, and, to our surprise, they believed that she was actually my wife (she did, after all, have her new internal passport with Брукс stamped in it) and let her in. Thus began my "wife’s" first experience of American hospitality…

As I had been to the embassy before (and for that matter been to numerous airports, government buildings, and whatnots) I knew the security procedure and was ready to present my bags and self for inspection. (Of course, this happened to be a day when I had an extra bag full of various questionable items.) To the "legal wife" this was all a new experience, or as she put it "humiliation." The guard at this entrance was, however, friendly. Once initial inspection was over then came the airport security and the giving up of all electronic equipment. Finally inside we asked our simple question of which type of visa to apply for and was told that this was not the department to talk to and, of course, the correct department is in another part of the building, arrived at through a completely different entrance with its own security… So once again the "humiliation" and this time with a not so friendly guard, giving up of electronics, and airport security. These last two steps being separate caused the greatest problems as the final guard decided we had more things to confiscate than the other. (The fact that at neither security points did they confiscate the extra batteries that I had point to the serious deficiencies in this faux security system, but I digress.)

Now that we were finally in we made our way to the visa department and, once again, asked our question. But let me introduce you to your quintessential American embassy worker: middle aged, typical gut, typical attitude of government workers. When asked which visa it is best to get he starts rattling off, tourist visa, business visa, student visa… When asked asked any other question the answer comes from the tape recorder implanted in his brain during training. When asked to give any real advise that actually pertains to a personal situation he is unable.

And that is America in Russia for you.

Tags: embassy, America, wedding

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Maslenitsa

While it may be half way through Lent, it’s never to late to remember the last time we partook in that chunky bit of cheddar. Therefore, I present you with maslenitsa in a town outside Moscow called Troitsk. Troitsk is located about 30 or 40 kilometers from Moscow to the south-west and, from what I was told, was, during Soviet times, a scientific community. One member of Molodaya Rus who lives there invited anyone who would like to come and join in his church’s annual celebration of maslenitsa. So with my “wife” (at that time fiance) I spent the day of the presidential election in this small town eating my last bliyny, for a time, in peace.

 

The entertainment:

 

 

And the younger young generations made the effort to come out:

 

What better way to celebrate than king of the hill?

 

And finally, the smokers’ corner (just off the territory):

 

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Impromptu Concert

So awhile ago after church in the trapeza a few children decided to do a little singing. Here are the results of that decision:

Tags: singing children

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