Two days ago I was baptized a Christian. That might come as a surprise for those who have read my blog and know that I am (or was) Jewish and as few people outside close friends and family read this, I assume that is nearly everyone.
Let me just say, I feel better now. Cleansed. Purified. Damp.
Alright, I am kind of joking. I wasn’t really baptized; I merely participated in the commemoration ceremony of a mass Christian baptism. And I, along with another volunteer named Michael Quinn (Yale, ’06), dunked in the holy waters alongside the Russians.
The holiday is called “Krishenia” or “the Christening”. I believe I wrote about it last year at this time, along with a brief description. Basically, for one full day all the water is considered holy, and while technically what comes out of the tap is as good as anything, many people prefer to journey down to the river with jugs and stock up on a year’s supply. Also, a fraction of the people who venture down, mostly men, take a dip in a frigid ice-pool which has been cut out specifically for that purpose.
It was cold. Really, really damn cold. Here’s the play-by-play:
My counterpart, her husband, and five volunteers Phil, Mike, Tim, Quinn, and myself all headed down to the river around 12:30.
After checking out the site and making sure there were plenty of cameramen at the ready, Quinn and I entered the specially-prepared tent, where dozens of Russian men (and a couple of women) were all in various stages of dressing or undressing.
We stripped down to our underwear and quickly walked outside to the pool which was really more of a trench with a set of staircases at both ends.
I went first, and was so locked in on my destination (my feet hurt from the cold, and the soles felt like they were freezing to the ice), that I didn’t notice anyone else in our group in the crowd.
I did a quick genuflection (when in Rome…), walked down, dunked three times, and walked back out.
Let me pause in the quick re-cap and go into a little detail: the wood on the platform was slick, and I had a little trouble getting down. The three dunks literally took my breath away. I was gasping, and every muscle in my body was flexed. I had even more trouble getting out; it felt like my joints were locking up, and I slipped a little, clawed at the railing, and finally emerged. The wind bit and robbed me of what little warmth I had as I emerged, and I had difficulty forming cogent thoughts. The whole process probably took five seconds, seven tops, but the whole time my brain walked that fine-line between adrenaline-rush and outright panic.
As I got out, my counterpart God bless her ran up to me with a towel I didn’t realize she had been carrying. I took it, let out a little “whoop!” of agony, and scuttled back to the tent, Quinn close on my heels.
We got back to the tent I put my counterpart’s towel down so we would have something to separate our feet and the sticky ice and we quickly undressed and toweled off.
It took an agonizingly long time to put my clothes back on. My feet in particular were numb, far more deadened than anything I have experienced outside of a doctor’s office as if everything below the ankle had been shot through with Novacaine.
Quinn and I babbled about the affects of the water and the adrenaline flowing in our veins. The old, semi-nude Russian guy to my side asked pleasantly, “So how was it?” “Excellent”, came our reply. Finally, as we were donning our jackets, my counterpart’s husband (a very laconic fellow) came in the changing tent and extended his hand.
“Maladetz.”
And so, like Jesus, my blog returns.
Sorry for the three month lapse. I can’t promise I’ll keep adding to this until the end of my service. And I can’t promise I’ll try. But I’ll try to try.
Here’s a very quick, chronological re-cap of what happened in the three months I didn’t write:
1. I didn’t go back to America in November, which messed up a lot of my plans. I now have an abundance of vacation days stockpiled, and am deciding how to use them.
2. I had a great Thanksgiving in Kokshetau. We ate, drank, played American football. It was everything you could hope for. Pictures are up on flickr.com/photos/forrest.
3. In early December I got jumped from behind by four guys who made off with my iPod. Bastards won’t even be able to use the thing, since it’s all in English and uses Mac technology, which no-one here has. It happened going into Meghan’s apartment complex; I chased them, but they went down a dark alley, and when I jumped out to the main street to look for a cop and ran parallel to them. However, at the end of the alley they mixed into a crowd near the market (it was only about 7 PM) and I lost them. They were wearing the same dark jeans, black jackets and black hats as every damn Russian man in this country, so it was like finding a needle in a stack of needles. The police were also of no real help since I never saw their faces.
4. New Year’s was great. Two volunteers—Victor and Dante—came up from Kokshetau, and we had a grand old time. Also, I began looking for my own apartment, and I should be able to move out of my host family’s house in the beginning of February. So I’m going to need lots of easily made American food and snacks, if anyone is in the mood to send me a care package (and thank you very much for the people that already have).
5. Winter break at my college lasts until January 28th, and it’s been quite eventful. It seems every weekend we have a visitor, which precipitates get-togethers (and drinking). First were Dante and Victor, then Meghan’s parents came from Nantucket, and finally Michael Quinn. The month of January has been very hard on the pocketbook.
Finally, I’d like to close with a rather significant amendment to an early blog post. I am not going to go back and change any of my posts because I feel it would be dishonest, but I just want to say that my Country Director John Drotos has been better than I gave him credit for.
My article I wrote a few months back didn’t run in the Washington Post, but that was my fault, not his; he approved an edited version, but it wasn’t what my journalist friend was looking for. Also, JD has been supportive of the Vesti, which has had some problems lately, and of me personally. He even wrote me a recommendation for grad school, even though it might cause me to leave Kazakhstan a couple of months early.
So again, I retract most of what I said about John before. There are still plenty of months for my opinions to change back, but for now I have to say that he has been a very good Country Director.
And on that positive note:
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