Preparations for the Easter holiday (Paska) that is celebrated by the Orthodox in Ukraine for three days (Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday) began several weeks ago. Once the weather turned spring-like, people began cleaning their homes and their yards, planting their seeds, and looking forward to Easter. The schedule at school has been even nuttier than usual over the past two weeks as children were excused from classes to clean up the village park, the school territory, and make tree-planting excursions. The cleaning, repainting, repairing, weeding, seeding, and painting of tree trunks culminated in more cleaning and baking in the last few days before the holiday. We did not have running water in the house for the three days leading up to Easter which made the last cleaning and baking on top of the day to day activities interesting.
Easter began in our house at 2:30 am on Sunday morning. I woke up to my alarm disoriented, listening to the silence of the house, and wondering what I was supposed to be doing. I heard a rushing noise coming from the bathroom and realized I was hearing water running in the toilet bowl! An Easter miracle! I heard my host family up and moving and swung out of bed to get some clothes on. We left the house a little after 3 and began our trek to the church they attend in Klevan -1. My host mother had her basket of Easter bread and eggs to be blessed in hand. The sky was crystal clear and still very dark and I could see more stars than I think I have seen in my life. As we power-walked through the dark village, slowly coming upon more families with their baskets, I realized this was probably the coolest thing that I have done at 3 o’clock in the morning.
The area outside the entrance to the church grounds was already full of groups of people, mostly men, smoking and chatting. We made our way through the gates and found a mass of people already accumulated. They had begun to form a circular line looping around the church that was also already full of more religious people who had arrived before midnight for the service until 4. We made our way towards the back of the church and joined the circle. Baskets were lined up orderly and families stood behind them. And then we waited. Waiting was a livelier affair than I had anticipated. People talked amongst themselves and on their cell phones, children ran around, people milled about. The church was lit and through the higher windows I could glimpse bits of the light blue ceiling and its murals. With the beautiful starry sky behind it, I mostly just enjoyed the view. Bars of music from the choir drifted intermittently outside and people kept arriving and moving the circle around the church. As the edge of the sky began to seep a lighter blue, people lit candles in their baskets. Soon the circle was illuminated and people worked to keep their candles lit in the cold wind of the morning. I didn’t know what I was waiting for, but I could feel the anticipation of the people around me. I knew that whatever it was, it would be coming soon.
Finally, the choir’s song was audible outside. A little procession of crosses, icons, choir, and religious devotees began to make their way around the circle. My host sister told me that they would make the loop three times, and on the third time would be the blessing. The crowd had grown quieter and much more serious. People had pushed towards the front of the circle and their baskets, following the procession, putting money in the collection pail, and trying to keep their candles alight. I watched the little old men and women carry the crosses and icons around the circle, looked around me at the women in head scarves, listened to the haunting Slavic tones coming from the choir and could not believe that I was there. The procession made the third round. I watched as the priest, his pail of holy water, and his blessing brush got closer and closer, flinging a surprisingly large amount of water on people and their baskets as he passed. Before I knew it, I had been blessed with my first holy water, face drenchingly blessed. And I did feel a bit holier.
We hot footed it back to our house for a massive meal, cognac and all, at about 6 in the morning. We ate our fill and then lumbered back to bed for about 3 hours only to get up once more, head to my host family family’s apartment for another feast. This one included a multilayered liver pie, a new Ukrainian dish for me, as well as some deliciously cooked fish. We then rolled ourselves home once more and I took another nap. I finished the evening at my friend’s house for ping-pong, egg cracking, and obviously more food and cognac. It was a lovely holiday.
