Boggy Beginnings and Baptismal Blessings

In May 1703, Tsar Peter the Great stood on a small island in the Neva, surrounded by little more than river and bog, and ordered the construction of a fortress. This decree in the desolate wilderness was the first step towards realizing Peter's vision of a magnificent modern capital (as opposed to medievalist Moscow), a window onto the enlightened West. With no Home Depot around the corner, indeed, with NOTHING around the corner and with millions of tons of earth to be moved, this grand vision could only be achieved by determination and force. Conscripted serfs (Peter demanded 40,000 per year) were often compelled to toil in appalling circumstances, shoveling soil with their bare hands. Housing and hinterland were nonexistent and living conditions correspondingly brutal with thousands dying from disease and exposure.  Thus was founded splendid St Petersburg, a roulettian city that but for the power and persistence of one man would not exist.

Meanwhile, the Petersburgian winter hasn't lived up to its abysmal reputation. Temperatures have hovered in the bearable 20s... except for the time around Baptism Day.  This day celebrates and emulates John's baptism of Jesus in the River Jordan, except that the Jordan is located in one of the hottest spots on earth, which obviously cannot be said about Petersburg in winter -- especially for these few days when the temperature was an almost unbearable (even when wrapped in shawls, mittens and heavy coats) ZERO degrees Fahrenheit. Surely people are not so crazy as to jump into the Neva under these extreme conditions? Skepticism seems appropriate.  

But walking over the Troitski Bridge towards Peter's massive fortress, one spies hordes of people converging on two different watering sites which have been excavated for the celebration. 

Who would have thought? In the shadow of the Fortress's ponderous walls, people are actually lining up by the tens to jump into the icy water. One after another, without pause and without end, like lemmings over the cliff, they make the fearful leap.  The task is to dunk three times, each time making the sign of the cross.  The result:  you are cleansed and blessed!

 

It's cold, really really really cold.

     

            Well, the fact has been established that it is freezing, and there's really nothing else to do but face the brutal weather conditions like a real man and scowl and bear it.

Obviously, one cannot spend the whole day leaping in and out of holes in the ice so cheerful folk entertainment is provided.  

"The Russian folk has a very wide soul!"

Looking around at all of this dipping and diving, I also conclude that the Russian folk has a hardy constitution. No wonder they were able to build a magnificent city out of a miserable bog using little more than their bare hands.

And fierce games of tug-of-war are played in the snow.

This festive baptismal event proceeds from 3 p.m until 9 p.m., but I am already frozen to the point that I'm not sure whether my blood is still circulating. So looking back across the frozen river to the silhouette of the Church on the Spilled Blood, I metaphorically tip my hat, mittens, shawl, and heavy winter coat to all those brave souls who made the leap, and head for warmer, indoor climes.