One Big Holiday

Congratulations on the holidays!!

Today two holidays are being celebrated in Russia.  One is so-called International Women's Day, a vestigial Soviet celebration of the female sex.  Russians honor it by "congratulating" the women in their lives with chocolate and flowers.

It's also Purim.  Well, technically, Purim starts tomorrow night, but today I went to a concert organized by the local Jewish Culture organization.  There's a funny phenomenon I've seen at all Russian concerts (not that I've seen Dima Bilan or Alla Pugachova, but at these dinky ones): the song-to-speech ratio is at best 1:1.  Politicians, organizers, veterans, they give these interminable speeches (they're no less boring when you understand what they're saying), then they call dozens of people on stage to present them with gifts and certificates.  Sometimes they make jokes about how boring the speeches are, but that's as good as it gets.  I guess there's no Russian equivalent for "Less talk, more rock!"

Actually, one interesting notion came out of the speeches.  Whereas I alternate between considering myself a Jewish American and an American Jew, most of the practicing Jews I've met here barely consider themselves Russian at all.  So even though today was actually Women's Day and not Purim, I wasn't "congratulating" anyone on the Russian holiday.  But many of the speakers acknowledged it, and one finally illuminated the whole issue: what is Purim if not a celebration of a strong women?

The concert portion of the concert was equally cheesy.  The worst part was a young man in a silver sharkskin suit singing and embarrassingly dancing to Hebrew songs.  I thought he was making a complete caricature of himself, but the crowd loved it.  His CDs sold like blini, and some old babushki even gave him the flowers they'd received for Women's Day.  The best parts were, as always, the children.  The local Hillel group put on an adorable Purimspiel, featuring the most beautiful local Jewesses.  But the show was stolen by a 6- or 7-year old bespectacled red-headed boy who sang and danced in an otherwise all-girl ensemble.  He had the confidence of star, unaware that he had the appearance of a nerd.  He performed with such soul, I wish I knew Yiddish to describe it.  Apparently I was not the only one so taken with him; when they introduced each performer, the audience went crazy.  Later I saw him in the theater and said "Well done."  He said thanks but didn't even smile, like a big shot.

Also, a discovery.  In the States, we have two varieties of hamentashen (for my goyish readers, that's the delicious fruit-filled Purim treat).  There's a cakey kind and a cookie kind.  Well, in Russia they have a third variety: bready.  It wasn't quite as tasty as I would've liked, and no Mom, they didn't have apricot ones, but it was still spiritually satisfying to eat the wicked Hamen's three-cornered hat.  Sacrelicious.

Happy days, everyone.  Congratulations on being/knowing wonderful women and chag sameach.