We left the barnyard petting zoo/Wildlife rehab facility late morning. It was good to pet the horses. The people were very nice. We got translations from my friends at the International office at every juncture. I keep thinking about how fortunate/spoiled I to have everything translated to English for me all the time.
It is sort of a Russian thing to not reveal what is happening next in almost any situation. Our friend Laura at one point asks----what are we doing next? This is the American way of saying what is now a hilarious inside joke at the international office---whenever we are confronted with any kind of ambiguity, we say...."What is the situation....?". This expression was coined by a somewhat eccentric Slovenian Professor, Dr. Devetak, who has regular dealings with the International office. I just laugh and tell Laura it will be a surprise.
We say goodbye to the Park Director and his people. He gives us all some swag bags with park literature and such. Our drivers materialize---they had actually checked out the animals too! We get in cars and we're off. The Khvalinsk Administrator, Sergei, is still with us,as is the the cultural director, Galina. These two are to spend the whole day with us. They are endlessly enthusiastic, patient, accessible, and kind. I wish this guy ran my town-seriously.
We pull up to a beautiful old red brick building with a tower. It is the Khvalinsk Fire department. These guys are there to meet us---in full uniform. We get a tour of the grounds and training areas. I ask about the cooking traditions of Russian firehouses----remembering that this is a huge part of American firefighter culture. They enhusiastically take us into the kitchen area and then show us the coolest of old Russian Fire Engines---still in use. Shiny, red beauties. The whole place is immaculate. There is some discussion of how Khvalinsk has had some serious town fires in earlier times....bringing water from the Volga was labor intensive etc. They seem very prepared now to protect their beautiful town, many old wooden buildings. Then we get a real treat. A climb to the top of their lookout tower. There are sweeping views of the Volga, the Mountains to the west, and the town itself. This place must be just absolutely beautiful when it greens up. It is charming right now. I love small towns and hope to end up living in one in the near future.Not sure if I'll follow up, but I resolve to do some brainstorming about how to increase tourism here. I've already petitioned Trip Advisor to add them to reviewable sites.With the apple trees, historic buildings, artist provenance, museums, the beautiful river, the nature, and the ski area, this place is perfectly positioned to be a travel destination---perhaps even for international visitors.
We then hit the Khvalinsk Natural History museum, meet the charming curator(he's got the sort of Russian Johnny Cash "look" going on; black shirt, jeans, boots) who gives us a personal tour--Valia's turn to translate and she does a wonderful job. The place is filled with 100 year old taxidermy of the wildlife from the area. The birds are just incredible. The condition of these things is just perfect. Lots of archeological artifacts. Russia's layers of culture over millenia are too numerous to count. What interests me is that this place is the center of an extensive Old Believer community---the hills, woods, and caves protecting them from centuries of discrimination and violence.Briefly: in 1666, Patriarch Nikon, supported by Tsar Nicholas, introduced without a legitimate council, a series of ritual and textual revisions to the liturgy----attempting to align the Russian Orthodox Church more closely with the Greek Orthodox Church. Some of these changes were as simple as how to make the sign of the cross or the spelling of Jesus' name, but many of the old rituals were also altered. This change was not accepted, causing a dramatic schism. Old Believers experienced widespread persecution.
Our next stop was an experience that I could have never expected, one that I will likely remember for a very long time.
It becomes apparent that we are approaching the Orthodox Church in Khvalinsk. As we pull near, I can see a Priest approaching the gate. A woman is bowing and kissing his hand, her husband shakes his hand. In Saratov, I've noticed these rather severe fellows on the streets, sometimes accompanied by a wife, dressed head to toe in flowing black robes with caps. To me they seem unapproachable for a variety of reasons.I am not a big fan of organized religion---but I have some Bhuddist tendencies and real respect for the Catholic focus on the poor and Liberation theology. I come from serious Catholics on both my Mother and Father's side. I have aunt who died a Nun, and I've been told my father was quite devout early in life. I will admit that Church is not the most comfortable place for me to be, but I try to remain open minded.
Sergei knows this Priest. He is Father Vitaly, (Отец Витали), young 30-40?, glasses, curly black hair, facial hair. We are all introduced. I thank him for personally inviting us into his Church. He laughs, and says--that at Sergei's request this is possible. He seems friendly, smiles a lot. We are ushered into the Church. My first experience. It is spellbinding.
It is sort of a Russian thing to not reveal what is happening next in almost any situation. Our friend Laura at one point asks----what are we doing next? This is the American way of saying what is now a hilarious inside joke at the international office---whenever we are confronted with any kind of ambiguity, we say...."What is the situation....?". This expression was coined by a somewhat eccentric Slovenian Professor, Dr. Devetak, who has regular dealings with the International office. I just laugh and tell Laura it will be a surprise.
We say goodbye to the Park Director and his people. He gives us all some swag bags with park literature and such. Our drivers materialize---they had actually checked out the animals too! We get in cars and we're off. The Khvalinsk Administrator, Sergei, is still with us,as is the the cultural director, Galina. These two are to spend the whole day with us. They are endlessly enthusiastic, patient, accessible, and kind. I wish this guy ran my town-seriously.
We pull up to a beautiful old red brick building with a tower. It is the Khvalinsk Fire department. These guys are there to meet us---in full uniform. We get a tour of the grounds and training areas. I ask about the cooking traditions of Russian firehouses----remembering that this is a huge part of American firefighter culture. They enhusiastically take us into the kitchen area and then show us the coolest of old Russian Fire Engines---still in use. Shiny, red beauties. The whole place is immaculate. There is some discussion of how Khvalinsk has had some serious town fires in earlier times....bringing water from the Volga was labor intensive etc. They seem very prepared now to protect their beautiful town, many old wooden buildings. Then we get a real treat. A climb to the top of their lookout tower. There are sweeping views of the Volga, the Mountains to the west, and the town itself. This place must be just absolutely beautiful when it greens up. It is charming right now. I love small towns and hope to end up living in one in the near future.Not sure if I'll follow up, but I resolve to do some brainstorming about how to increase tourism here. I've already petitioned Trip Advisor to add them to reviewable sites.With the apple trees, historic buildings, artist provenance, museums, the beautiful river, the nature, and the ski area, this place is perfectly positioned to be a travel destination---perhaps even for international visitors.
We then hit the Khvalinsk Natural History museum, meet the charming curator(he's got the sort of Russian Johnny Cash "look" going on; black shirt, jeans, boots) who gives us a personal tour--Valia's turn to translate and she does a wonderful job. The place is filled with 100 year old taxidermy of the wildlife from the area. The birds are just incredible. The condition of these things is just perfect. Lots of archeological artifacts. Russia's layers of culture over millenia are too numerous to count. What interests me is that this place is the center of an extensive Old Believer community---the hills, woods, and caves protecting them from centuries of discrimination and violence.Briefly: in 1666, Patriarch Nikon, supported by Tsar Nicholas, introduced without a legitimate council, a series of ritual and textual revisions to the liturgy----attempting to align the Russian Orthodox Church more closely with the Greek Orthodox Church. Some of these changes were as simple as how to make the sign of the cross or the spelling of Jesus' name, but many of the old rituals were also altered. This change was not accepted, causing a dramatic schism. Old Believers experienced widespread persecution.
Our next stop was an experience that I could have never expected, one that I will likely remember for a very long time.
It becomes apparent that we are approaching the Orthodox Church in Khvalinsk. As we pull near, I can see a Priest approaching the gate. A woman is bowing and kissing his hand, her husband shakes his hand. In Saratov, I've noticed these rather severe fellows on the streets, sometimes accompanied by a wife, dressed head to toe in flowing black robes with caps. To me they seem unapproachable for a variety of reasons.I am not a big fan of organized religion---but I have some Bhuddist tendencies and real respect for the Catholic focus on the poor and Liberation theology. I come from serious Catholics on both my Mother and Father's side. I have aunt who died a Nun, and I've been told my father was quite devout early in life. I will admit that Church is not the most comfortable place for me to be, but I try to remain open minded.
Sergei knows this Priest. He is Father Vitaly, (Отец Витали), young 30-40?, glasses, curly black hair, facial hair. We are all introduced. I thank him for personally inviting us into his Church. He laughs, and says--that at Sergei's request this is possible. He seems friendly, smiles a lot. We are ushered into the Church. My first experience. It is spellbinding.
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