The Epiphany, or krisheniya in Russian, is celebrated on the 19th of January. It is believed that for three days, beginning at midnight on the 19th, all water, whether flowing through a river or through your faucet, is blessed. In a strange supernatural phenomenon, water gathered during this time will not go moldy or bad for the year to come. I know, I didn't believe it either; every time I look at my local friends with disbelief about this, they whip out their jar of water from last year and command me to smell and taste it. And, lo and behold, it's good water, even a year on.
Due to the holy and blessed properties of the water during krisheniya it isn't enough to simply gather and drink this water. Oh no, you have to go bathe in it. And not in your bathtub, in the river. So in every town with a significant Russian population, large blocks are cut out of the frozen river, stairs are erected, and people go for a dip. The tradition is that you must dunk yourself three times in the water in order to become re-baptized and renewed for the new year.
Last year, when my host family invited me to join them to go down to the river, I reacted as most people would, telling them they were crazy and I was going to stay at home where it wasn't -30 degrees. An additional year of life in KZ, however, has certain, uh, mental effects (read: we all go a little crazy here after a while). So Phil, Mike, and the other volunteers in Petropavlovsk, a city about 8 hours east by bus from where I live, invited us to come and join them for the first annual "Strip and Dip." Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't agree to jump in a freezing cold river, but if 15 other Americans were going to do it plus countless locals, it couldn't be that bad of an idea, right?
On the day of krisheniya, as we got on the bus to go down to the Ishim River, I felt pretty apprehensive. In the back of my mind, I had a feeling that I would chicken out at the last minute. But when we arrived, the atmosphere was so incredible there was simply no way I could turn back. There were lots of people to one side collecting water from large holes cut in the ice specifically for this purpose. To the other side were two large tents and in front of them, two large blocks cut out of the ice with wooden stairs leading into the pools, ready to receive dunkers. In the background, loudspeakers blared choirs singing Orthodox hymns and prayers. A giant cross made out of ice looked over the entire scene. I thought I was just going for a dip in sub-zero temps, but this was far more spiritual than I had anticipated. And for that reason, there was no way I was turning back. I had to do it.
Only three of the girls in our group were brave (or crazy) enough to agree to do the dunk, so we waited and watched as one by one, the guys in our group took the plunge. Watching them all do it, with barely a flinch or shudder, gave me the extra courage I needed. That, and this advice that Joe gave me the night before: "You know what you've done, so just go do it." It was true; we've all made mistakes and we all know what we've done, and it was time to go and pay my penance, time to start over again.
When we went into the women's changing tent we noticed that first, it felt about ten degrees warmer, and second, there were two additional pools in the tent specifically for women. It was so tempting to just to the dunk there, but our guys were waiting for us outside. So we undressed as fast as we could and scurried out in our swimsuits. I'm not sure if it was the fear or the cold, but I could not stop shivering as I stood there, waiting for my turn. But as I stood on the stairs, about to step into the water, my mind was totally blank. There was nothing else to think about except what I was about to do. I lowered myself into the water, took a deep breath, and dunked three times. As soon as I stepped out of the water I ran as fast as I could back to the tent to change. I had done it.
The worst part, I think, was the anticipation. That, and the first instant I stepped out of the water; the freezing air felt like knives. But as soon as I put my clothes back on, I felt fantastic. Maybe it was the adrenaline rush, or maybe there's something to this krisheniya baptism after all, who knows. All I know is that it was an incredible experience. I'm glad I did it, but it's definitely going to be a once in a lifetime thing; I don't plan on wearing a swimsuit when it's below zero and snowing again.
