Friday the 13th

No, today hasn't been a terribly unlucky day. It's been quite the opposite, actually. I'm writing this during the intermission of a performance of Swan Lake (my favorite ballet) at the Mariinsky Theater's second stage. I arrived at the theater with the expectation that I would have to pay about $10 for my student ticket (only the tickets for the Mariinsky's old stage are always free), but somehow ended up with a free ticket anyway. Though I'm standing (the show is completely sold out), I'm used to that and I'm not complaining!

Though my day has been pretty good, it still is Friday the 13th, and so I decided that today would be the perfect day to talk about some of the superstitions and whatnot that I've learned about in the past several months. I haven't learned these superstitions from research on the Internet or in books; all of them are things that I have learned of by word of mouth from friends, classmates, and other people that I've encountered during my time in Saint Petersburg. While this means that I can't verify how acurate or widespread these superstitions are or explain their historical roots, it also means that I learned of them in the way that such traditions are supposed to be passed along - directly from one person to the next.

After leaving the school via the Vaganova Academy's front enterance, if you turn right and walk to the end of Rossi Street, you arrive at the Alexandrinsky Theater (in the center of the picture below).

On each side of the building is a series of arcs. I've been told that it's unlucky for performers (dancers, actors, singers, etc) to walk underneath the arcs.

If you continue walking (around the arcs, not under them :) towards and then across the city's main commercial street, Nevsky Prospect, you come to an area dominated by various restauraunts and cafes and bakeries. On an exterior wall along this stretch of the street, between a sweet shop called Kupetz Eliseevs and a Carl's Junior restaurant, there is a shelf, set into a corner in the wall, upon which a sculpture of a cat sits and watches over the people passing below from it's perch fifteen feet above street level.

A crowd of people is almost always gathered around the cat, since throwing a coin and successfully getting it to land on the cat's shelf means being granted a wish.

I've recently been taking advantage of the lengthening days (the sun doesn't set until almost 11:30 p.m., and the sky stays light even after that) by taking long walks around the city in the late afternoon and early evening. One of my favorite routes takes me along Nevsky Prospect in the direction of Palace Square and the Hermitage Museum...

...then across the Neva River...

...to the island with the Peter and Paul Fortress.

There are multiple bridges connecting this island to larger island next to it, one of which has this located right next to it.

While standing on the bridge, you're supposed to toss coins at the rabbit, hoping to get one to land on the wooden posts surrounding the bunny, or, if you are very lucky, somewhere on the rabbit itself. (I have seen the rabbit with a coin sitting on top of it's head, just in front of its ears). Like with the sculpture of the cat, getting your coin to land next to the bunny is supposed to bring good luck.

In the warmer months, as you walk this route, you're sure to encounter many vendors selling souvenirs of all sorts. Some sell matryoshka dolls, magnets, or handmade glass animals, while others set up small displays with an assortment of small sculptures and keychains made of brass. The people selling the brass objects almost always have a collection of tiny mice that you can buy. Some of the mice are holding onto coins of various denominations, while others don't have a coin, but all are supposed to bring financial wealth to those who keep them in their wallet or change purse.

There is a Russian rhyme about the mice: «Мышка поселись, денежка водись!» Roughly translated (by me, to the best of my abilities), an approximate English equivalent would be something like this: "Where the little mouse settles, money is found!"

After you've gotten all the way to the Peter and Paul Fortress, you might be kind of tired and taking some sort of public transportation back to where you began might be a wise idea. If you find yourself on a public bus, make sure to take a close look at the numbers on your bus ticket after you've paid for it; if the first three numbers add up to the same sum as the last three numbers, make a wish. I have also heard that you are then supposed to eat the bus ticket, though that strikes me as being rather unsanitary and I would not suggest doing so. And anyway, then your lucky bus ticket is gone forever...

One evening, I was on my way to the bridge with the bunny next to it, having collected many small coins over the past two weeks and intending to spend a few minutes launching them at the bunny, when I happened to pass a vendor sitting next to a display of bronze sculptures, including an array of the tiny mice. I decided that my change purse needed one of the little mice, so I bought one (which, ironically, required that a small sum of money leave my possession...). I then contined on my way over to the bunny and began tossing my small change in its general direction.

There is a good reason that I dance instead of, say, play baseball, volleyball, or even tennis; my hand-eye coordination, as well as my ability to throw things as far and in the direction that I intended, has never been a strong point of mine. Anyway, I was determined to get a coin to land next to the bunny. Two previous attempts had ended in failure after I ran out of ten-kopek, fifty-kopek, and one-ruble coins.

I'm 99% sure that I was successful on my third attempt, though. There were a couple coins that I think that I managed to get to stay put, and which I am choosing to believe actually did stay put, since believing that they did is the most important thing anyway!

I think that one of the three coins in the lowest grouping is mine...

...as well as the large silver one that is centered in the picture below, nearest to the top.

Nearby, there is usually a man who runs a machine that will press a fifty-kopek coin into a souvenir with a picture on it (for a fee, of course). I had decided that I would pay to have a coin squished to show a picture of the bunny on the day that I managed to get a coin to land, but on that particular day, he wasn't there. Maybe my little mouse was doing its job and trying to keep my money in my change purse, but I still wanted a squished coin. I returned a few days later and was happy to see that the man was back to operate the coin-squishing machine, and soon enough I had a coin with a bunny on it. "For luck," he said as he handed it to me. Now I keep it in my change purse along with the little mouse, if not for luck, for memories.

Ever since I learned about the lucky numbers on the bus tickets, I've been hopefully checking my ticket every time, adding up the first and last three numbers to see if they match. For months, I had no luck. Then, just yesterday, one day before Friday the 13th, I was on the bus. I handed over my bus fare and took the ticket from the conductor. Looking down, I discovered that the numbers on the ticket that she'd just handed me had matching sums.

I made a wish and tucked the ticket into my purse, having already decided that I wasn't going to eat it.