As usual, I'm blogging about something that happened a while ago. In my defense, I have been on seven planes in the past three weeks and have experienced two ten-hour time changes (so I'm just a bit jetlagged - I slept in later today than I have in years). During just the most recent week I have been in six cities, in four different countries, on two continents, all the while dragging along four bags whose contents (combined) weigh more than I do. But more on that in a later post. (And possibly another).
Anyway... on to the real point of this post... the New Year! In Russia, the most celebrated winter holiday tends to be the New Year rather than Christmas, which was a surprise for me when I found out last year (as in at the end of 2013). I grew up amongst people who, for the most part, liked to celebrate Christmas, Hanukah, or their own choice of December holiday with much enthusiasm, leaving New Year's Eve and Day as a sort of afterthought, so the sudden reversal was quite unexpected. Whether due to historical influences or simply due to the fact that Russian Orthodox Christmas is celebrated after the start of the New Year (on January seventh), the coming of the New Year is the occasion for which gifts are presented and when holiday parties take place.
Living in such a small yet internationally diverse community as that of the international students' dormitory here means being exposed to a wide range of traditions and celebrations. My choice is to embrace and celebrate as many as possible; life is more fun and interesting that way. Early in December (on the sixth, I believe) is when Santa Claus comes and leaves candy in the shoes of Hungarian children; I was delighted to wake up that morning and find candy (wrapped, of course) in my shoes, courtesy of the Hungarian girl who lives down the hall. The Swedish, Belgian, Finnish, and Hungarian girls who live on my floor celebrate the gift-giving part of Christmas on December twenty-fourth, so that is when we had a little Christmas party in the TV room on our floor. In respect of our own families' traditions, my roommate and I saved our gift-opening for the twenty-fifth. When New Year's Eve rolled around, most of the residents of the fourth floor returned to the TV room for another little party.
As the hours passed, a movie was watched, snacks were eaten, and then the TV was switched on and tuned in to the primary Russian broadcast station. Just before midnight, President Putin gave his annual speech (which I managed to almost completely miss due to the fact that, as he was giving the speech, I was trying to wrestle open a bottle of sparkling apple juice without spilling any on myself, my friends, or the couch). When the clock struck twelve, we cheered in the New Year as the traditional televised party (featuring dancing and singing celebrities, who this year included our school's director, Nikolai Maximovich Tsiskaridze) began. After several hours of watching this program (which went on until about two o'clock in the morning) and talking, we finally began cleaning up the mess that we'd made and getting ready to go to sleep.
The next evening, we finished off the first day of 2015 with a steaming bowl of homemade lentil soup, prepared from scratch by my friend Juli; eating lentils on New Year's Day is a Hungarian tradition meant to ensure that you are bestowed with wealth and beauty in the year to come. Everything about that sounds good to me, and the soup was delicious.
Anyway... on to the real point of this post... the New Year! In Russia, the most celebrated winter holiday tends to be the New Year rather than Christmas, which was a surprise for me when I found out last year (as in at the end of 2013). I grew up amongst people who, for the most part, liked to celebrate Christmas, Hanukah, or their own choice of December holiday with much enthusiasm, leaving New Year's Eve and Day as a sort of afterthought, so the sudden reversal was quite unexpected. Whether due to historical influences or simply due to the fact that Russian Orthodox Christmas is celebrated after the start of the New Year (on January seventh), the coming of the New Year is the occasion for which gifts are presented and when holiday parties take place.
Living in such a small yet internationally diverse community as that of the international students' dormitory here means being exposed to a wide range of traditions and celebrations. My choice is to embrace and celebrate as many as possible; life is more fun and interesting that way. Early in December (on the sixth, I believe) is when Santa Claus comes and leaves candy in the shoes of Hungarian children; I was delighted to wake up that morning and find candy (wrapped, of course) in my shoes, courtesy of the Hungarian girl who lives down the hall. The Swedish, Belgian, Finnish, and Hungarian girls who live on my floor celebrate the gift-giving part of Christmas on December twenty-fourth, so that is when we had a little Christmas party in the TV room on our floor. In respect of our own families' traditions, my roommate and I saved our gift-opening for the twenty-fifth. When New Year's Eve rolled around, most of the residents of the fourth floor returned to the TV room for another little party.
As the hours passed, a movie was watched, snacks were eaten, and then the TV was switched on and tuned in to the primary Russian broadcast station. Just before midnight, President Putin gave his annual speech (which I managed to almost completely miss due to the fact that, as he was giving the speech, I was trying to wrestle open a bottle of sparkling apple juice without spilling any on myself, my friends, or the couch). When the clock struck twelve, we cheered in the New Year as the traditional televised party (featuring dancing and singing celebrities, who this year included our school's director, Nikolai Maximovich Tsiskaridze) began. After several hours of watching this program (which went on until about two o'clock in the morning) and talking, we finally began cleaning up the mess that we'd made and getting ready to go to sleep.
The next evening, we finished off the first day of 2015 with a steaming bowl of homemade lentil soup, prepared from scratch by my friend Juli; eating lentils on New Year's Day is a Hungarian tradition meant to ensure that you are bestowed with wealth and beauty in the year to come. Everything about that sounds good to me, and the soup was delicious.
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