People lighted candles from each other to place before some of the icons. The flame came from Jerusalem. A flame is ignited there and carried to Athens via plane, where other flames are lighted from it and one is flown to Moscow. From this flame others are lighted to be taken to the various churches and cathedrals, where they light candles that light candles that eventually light the very candles that we are holding. When the candle blows out, someone nearby shares the flame. It is beautiful.
Towards midnight the bells began to toll, first the deep main bell, and then the smaller bells joined it. Soon the priests and deacons march through the crowd inside and come onto the front steps. �Christ is Risen!� �Christ is Risen Indeed!� the people answer. From now until the end of Easter (Pentacost), whenever someone greets you with �Christ is Risen,� the answer is �Christ is Risen Indeed.� The clergy start a procession down the steps and round the church,carrying banners and crosses. I wanted to take a picture, but didn't want to intrude on the moment. The people follow, coming out of the church, singing. They process around the church and back inside, where the service lasts another hour or two. We left at that point, however. It's been an amazing trip.
When I was here in 1992, my hostess took me to a place near the Kremlin where a cathedral had been imploded in the Stalin years to make way for a government building -- really a monument to Lenin -- which never got built. Instead, the world's largest swimming pool was dug on the site. We saw the pool and a rough wooden structure decorated with icons and flowers for Easter. We were told that the dream was to rebuild Christ the Savior Cathedral. That happened over two years culminating in its reopening in 1997. It is built with the original plans, and the gold domes shine over much of downtown Moscow.
We went to the Bolshoi Ballet on my birthday, and to the World War II memorial park, which has a chilling Holocaust monumment. It's on a platform, with a curving wall made up of human figures that fade into blocks falling like dominoes, and continues around, after a break through which you can see blocks with all the languages of Russia (sorry, I don't know what they say), as a cresting wave. The first three people in the line are parents shielding their son's eyes as they head toward the gas chamber. To the side are bronze representations of toys, books, musical instruments -- the things that were left behind.
We had a party for Father Alexander, a friend of our trip leaders, who brought his son, who's just old enough to learn quickly how to point and shoot a digital Nikon SLR. He pointed it at me and said �Babushka.� That, in Russian, means �Grandmother� or �little old lady.�
One morning, my roommate and I went out on the balcony at the end of the hall to take pictures. We were immediately joined by a Russian man in a leather jacket. Then we turned and noticed a police officer. I don't know where they came from, but they sure came in a hurry. This is Russia. You never know...
That was Moscow. I'm in St. Petersburg now, and that will have to wait until I can find another Internet cafe.
