Ringing in the New Year

Since Russians love to party, it may not seem so surprising that some of them celebrate the New Year twice – “new” New Year on January 1st and “old” New Year on January 14th. Religion adds two more major holidays to the winter calendar. December 25th (which is sometimes called “European Christmas”) is observed by non-Orthodox Christians, whereas January 7th is the date of Christmas for members of the Orthodox Church. A few people even celebrate both Christmases, thus managing to have four holidays in three weeks’ time.

The Old and the New

Aside from Russians’ propensity to party, there are historical and calendrical reasons for this doubling of holidays during the winter season in Russia. In 45 B.C. Julius Caesar introduced to the Western world a calendar which closely approximated the time it took for the earth to make one complete rotation around the sun. But the calendar’s minor deviations from true, planetary rotational time added up over the centuries, causing it to become increasingly less accurate as time went by. A new, reformed calendar, introduced by Pope Gregory XIII in 1582, calculated the time more accurately, dropped ten days from the old Julian calendar, and changed the points at which leap years occur. By the 20th century, the difference between the old Julian and the new Gregorian calendars was a total of 14 days.

Much of the Christian world adopted the Gregorian calendar several centuries ago, but Russia continued to use the Julian calendar until shortly after the Bolshevik Revolution. On February 1, 1918, Russia switched from the old calendar to the new. That’s why the October revolution came to be celebrated in November. And that’s why Russians – if they want to – can choose to celebrate two New Years, and two Christmases, each two weeks apart.

The new Soviet era brought other changes, too. With the practice of religion discouraged to the point of persecution, Christmas became a holiday of the past, remembered only by the elderly and unknown to the young. Instead of being completely suppressed, however, secular Christmas customs – from decorated evergreen trees to feasting and gift-giving – became associated with the New Year, the most important non-political holiday on the Russian calendar. Today, more Russians celebrate the New Year (one or both of them) than any other holiday, including Christmas.

Pre-Holiday Preparations

As the winter holiday season approaches, the windows of apartments, schools, shops, and kiosks are decorated with snowflakes hand-cut from white paper. Some fancy shop windows even display Advent wreaths and Nativity scenes, as Christmas once again becomes a recognized holiday. Stores are stocked with foods and gift items, often arrayed under banners proclaiming “S Novym Godom!” – the Russian version of “Happy New Year!” And, in the post-Soviet era, open-air markets have sprung up selling everything from American Barbie dolls to Chinese-made Christmas cards. In the 19th century, Russians adopted from Western Europe the custom of sending holiday cards to family and friends living in other cities and towns. As a holdover from the Soviet era, most of today’s cards are still secular, not religious, wishing the recipient a Happy New Year rather than a Merry Christmas.

Russians begin their holiday shopping early, stockpiling food and drink in advance to hedge against shortages as the New Year draws near. As a rule, they spend more money on the holiday table than on gifts. The season also brings out the best in everyone, from spontaneous laughter to unexpected generosity, even as people bump and bustle to buy a scarf for grandmother or a couple more bottles of champagne for New Year’s Eve.

One of the most important purchases is the yolka, the evergreen tree that brightens up every home, office, factory, and school. A Christmas custom originally adopted from Germany in the mid-19th century, the New Year’s yolka has become an essential part of the Russian winter holiday season (see Russian Life, January 1997). Evergreen trees – usually fir or pine – are set up in public and private places, from the Kremlin Palace of Congresses, to city parks and squares, to apartments in highrises and lobbies in hotels. Some villagers still observe the old custom of planting an evergreen in the yard when their first child is born, then decorating the tree every New Year.

But the Christmas/New Year’s tree was not always permitted under the old regime, especially during Stalin’s time. Some Russians born soon after World War II still remember when decorated evergreen trees were prohibited because of their possible religious significance, and neighbors informed on people who surreptitiously set up trees in their houses. At other times, however, the capricious Stalin allowed the custom to be observed. One Stalin-era propaganda film portrays a smiling, grandfatherly, Joseph Stalin welcoming young children to the Kremlin to sing and dance around a huge, ornately decorated yolka, glistening under the chandeliers of the St. George’s Hall.

In the post-Stalin era, the custom of having a yolka at New Year’s time has become firmly entrenched. During the last week of December, Russians throng to open-air markets where evergreens are sold off the backs of trucks. The normally overcrowded buses, trolleys, and subways are packed even tighter with commuters carrying the prickly trees home. Others – who want to avoid the hassle and expense of buying a fresh tree every year – purchase artificial trees, but many Russians consider these to be a poor substitute for the real thing.

Gather Round the Tree

In the cities, the fresh evergreens are stored on apartment balconies until just before New Year’s Eve, December 31st, when they are brought indoors, secured upright in a bucket of sand, and decorated with tinsel, colored lights, and a variety of ornaments – glass, metal, plastic, paper, wax – both store-bought and homemade. In earlier times, candles were placed on the yolka’s branches (to be lighted just before midnight), and during the Soviet era it was traditional to have a lighted red plastic star atop the tree. Trees erected outdoors in public places are often decorated with colored lights, large plastic balls, and boxes wrapped like presents. In Russia’s new market economy, some of the public trees even display advertisements for private firms.

The last week of December is also the time for parties at schools and social clubs, where children sing and dance around the decorated evergreen trees. Clowns and magicians perform, and traditional games such as blind-man’s bluff are played. The highlight of these parties is the appearance of Ded Moroz (Grandfather Frost) and his helper Snegurochka (Snow Maiden), who pass out small gifts to all the children (see box, page following).

Young children of kindergarten and elementary school age often wear costumes and masks for these New Year’s parties. Decked out as pirates, animals, and fairy tale characters, the children look much like Halloween trick-or-treaters in the United States. In Russia, this tradition harks back to ancient times, deep in the pagan past, when people dressed up as demons, devils, witches, and spirits to perform rituals associated with the winter solstice (December 21st) and the changing of seasons from the old to the new. Even in the Christian era, these customs were continued by bands of masked mummers who went from house to house during Sviatki, the Yuletide season from Christmas through New Year to Epiphany. Dressed as Gypsies, shamans, witches, devils, and other colorful characters, they entertained each household with songs, dances, and poems, wished everyone a prosperous New Year, and then were rewarded with small treats of food and drink.

The Big Night

Like their ancestors, modern Russians celebrate the New Year with a massive feast. Across the country, family and friends gather around the table on the evening of December 31st. Although the limited space in restaurants is reserved weeks in advance for New Year’s parties, it is still much more traditional for Russians to celebrate at home.

The evening begins with the arrival of guests – dressed in their best clothes and bearing gifts for the hostess. The women of the household – grandmother, mother, daughters, aunts – have spent days preparing the foods for the New Year’s table. Resplendent in a corner of the living room is the recently decorated yolka, with small gifts placed under it. In the center of the room, a motley assortment of chairs and stools is squeezed around a dining table covered with the family’s best tablecloth and laden with food.

Some Russian families start their New Year’s feast early in the evening; others wait until the clock has stuck midnight and the first toast of the New Year has been offered. First on the table are the zakuski, an array of Russian hors d’oeuvres that reaches its apogee on New Year’s Eve. Typical Russian zakuski include red and black caviar, smoked salmon, salted herring, sprats in oil, marinated mushrooms, pickled tomatoes and cucumbers, tongue in aspic, sliced cheeses and sausages, beet-potato-herring salad, red cabbage salad with walnuts, potato salad with peas and carrots, and, in some parts of the country, Kamchatka crab.

The zakuski are followed by a hot soup, then perhaps another small hot dish such as mushrooms baked in sour cream, served in individual pots or ramekins. Then comes a substantial meat dish. Roast suckling pig is traditional for New Year’s Eve, for those who can find it – but roast pork, goose, turkey, or chicken is just as likely to be honored as the main course. In some families, a coin is hidden in one of the holiday dishes; whoever finds it will supposedly have good luck for the following year. Dessert – if anyone has room for it – ranges from commercial chocolates, to homemade honey cakes and cookies, to light and lacy bliny spread with homemade fruit preserves, all washed down with traditional hot tea from the samovar or more modern instant coffee, that status symbol of the new market economy in Russia.

But no New Year’s feast would be complete without plenty of vodka and Russian champagne. All Russian ceremonial meals begin with a toast – and on New Year’s Eve a toast seems to accompany every bite of food. Vodka goes with the zakuski, cognac and sweet liqueurs accompany dessert, Russian champagne welcomes in the New Year, and for those who want a real Russian cocktail, an Aurora mixes vodka and champagne into a potent brew.

As the meal winds down, the children sing and dance in front of the yolka, gifts are exchanged, and the adults continue to nibble leftovers, drink more vodka and champagne, and watch the special New Year’s shows on television. In earlier times, at the stroke of midnight, bonfires were lit to mark the New Year. Today, imported Chinese fireworks are launched from the balconies of highrise apartment buildings in the cities, and boats on the rivers and in seaports set off flares. As in many other countries, people don silly paper hats and blow on noisemakers, but Russians usually shake hands instead of kissing each other when the clock strikes twelve.

Family celebrations at home usually last until midnight, then the children are sent to bed and left in grandmother’s care, while the parents go out to visit friends, eating and drinking their way from apartment to apartment all night long. Dawn brings not only a new year but also the inevitable hangover – which Russians combat by drinking the brine from pickled cucumbers and tomatoes.

Second New Year

Russia’s winter holiday season lasts from December 31st through January 14th, the “second” or “old” New Year based on the Julian calendar. During this two-week period, schools are dismissed and many factories and offices are closed. This is a time for families and friends to visit each other and participate in outdoor winter activities such as troika rides, ice skating, cross-country skiing, and ice fishing. And halfway between the “new” and the “old” New Years, Orthodox Christians celebrate Christmas on January 7th.

The night of January 13th is the last occasion for holiday parties, although usually not as lavish as the ones held on December 31st. It is also the last opportunity for fortunetelling, a New Year’s custom that Russians have practiced for centuries. Every group of female friends seems to have one who is recognized for her ability to predict the future by reading tea leaves, dealing cards, or casting hot candle wax onto a plate of cold water (to make shapes whose meanings can be interpreted only by the seer). In earlier times, maidens sought to know whether (and who) they would marry in the coming year. Modern Russians seem to be more interested in how much money they’re likely to make during the next twelve months.

Old New Year – January 14th – brings the winter holiday season to an end. The yolka is thrown out, the children start back to school, and workers return to their jobs. But the memories persist – of good times, good foods, good friends, and maybe a good fortune foretold. And, in a country that observes two New Years two weeks apart, it is already less than a year until the next holiday season begins!