Knowledge Day in Russia
It was a cold, dry, Saturday morning in as I walked to work
to join my-fellow teachers, returning as well as new students in celebrating
“back to school”, Knowledge Day and the first day of fall. Fortunately, the
clouds in Moscow had spent the last several days, which had run into weeks
emptying their contents onto us everywhere in the city and cleaning out the
pollution, which I am grateful for, although that had turned August into the
beginning of fall instead of the last days of summer. As such, they had no more
moisture left to soak us with, and I could enjoy keeping my hands in my pockets
as I walked, instead of hoisting an umbrella for about half an hour.
The only other event I had ever celebrated on September 1st
was my friend Grace’s birthday. Knowledge Day was a new celebration for me, and
although we’d been briefed about coming to school on September 1st
as is the tradition in Russia, regardless of the day of the week it fell on,
nothing had prepared me for the elaborate celebration I was to witness. I
noticed the presence of several teenagers in the streets on my way to work,
which had not been the case in the last six weeks that I had been travelling
along the same route at the same time. We shared the same purpose I thought,
albeit on our way to different destinations.
As I approached the school gate, I saw a couple with
travelling suitcases loitering around. It seemed rather unusual since they
looked lost and were arguing about something. I wondered why the guards at the
school weren't out to ask what their business was, but just minded my own and
walked in. As security clicked me in, I saw the lady had finally taken out a
phone and was looking frantically for a number, I presumed, as I left them out
there. I shut the gate behind me, greeted the guards and duly filled my name in
on the sign-in sheet. They were all smiles and wished me a Happy Knowledge Day
and I did the same. Those were the first September 1st wishes I’d
ever experienced.
I had arrived early so the school was quiet when I walked in
to get ahead with lesson preparation for the first week of school, and was
greeted by beautiful, medium-sized balloons in the school colors - sky blue and
white. They’d been adorning the main entrance of the school building probably
from the previous night, hung below the rectangular sign board bearing the name
of the school in Russian and English. The balloons brightened my mood as I
anticipated the forthcoming celebration.
After working for about an hour in my classroom, I started
to hear different footsteps in the hallways, louder than usual. It was coming,
I realized from the high heels the teachers had chosen to wear today. I noticed
that all the Russian teachers were dressed up elegantly. My brown dress pants,
sweater, and Aigner moccasins, however formal and appropriate for work, paled
in comparison with their colorful dresses and scarves, broaches and other
accessories. Everyone was smiling and “C Prazdnikom” was uttered repeatedly as
people passed one another. Laughter could be heard from the teachers all over
the school. This was nothing like back to school in any of the countries where
I’d taught. The students would arrive, go to their assigned classes and on most
occasions, the first topic on the agenda before any book was cracked open and
lessons began, was the classroom behavior contract and seating plan. That was
read, discussed, negotiated and signed by all. Once that was done, we would get
down to business and face what was in store for us till June. I appreciated
this first day for students to get the chit-chat about their holidays out of
the way, instead of spending the first few lessons at school discussing this,
as is usually the case when a teacher is trying hard to focus on a lesson and
meet the objectives.
Outside in the school yard, the students were arriving
successively and gathering in small groups expressing, through a variety of
paralinguistic communicative forms, their joy to meet again - hugging each
other, shaking hands, slapping one another on the back, and happily sharing
news about things that mattered to them. Traditional celebratory Russian music
could be heard in the background and old acquaintances, both young and not so
young, conversed cheerfully, while the new students approached their teachers timidly
and tried to establish a relationship. A few shy, new students from upper and
lower secondary stood with their parents, all awaiting the welcome address from
the principal who would formally welcome them either for the first time, or welcome
them back to school and declare the new academic year open.
Before the formal address however, we were entertained by a
witch and a wizard who were no other than the couple I’d seen outside
struggling with their travel cases, which must have contained their working
gear. They had finally succeeded in contacting their employer to let them in to
perform their show. They had changed from their casual attire and were both
draped in black gowns. The witch wore a typical witch’s hat in black and red
and the wizard wore a bowler hat of a different color depending on which trick
he was playing. The witch and wizard, now made popular by the Harry Potter
series I would like to think, are the alternative to the clowns of yore who
usually entertained children at parties or circuses.
They were quite entertaining and the young children enjoyed
it. I can’t say the same for the older children who felt too cool to laugh, or
the adults around either. Excited parents wielded their cameras, video cameras
and sophisticated phones, moving around to secure the best position, duly
capturing the moment of their children’s first day at school, especially the
kindergartners and first graders. Several little girls were sporting the
traditional white pompoms for special school occasions in their pigtails, minus
the French-maid outfit which I remember from my childhood. The little boys looked
very elegant in their suits as they flashed their little teeth in excitement.
Several teachers were heavily laden with several, colorful bouquets, and not
only the women, but the men as well as we all watched on, warmly dressed for
the low morning temperature.
The wizard juggled, extracted several footballs from under
his black robe, drew several small colorful umbrellas from one big black one,
while the witch danced around with her broom in her blood red boots and enticed
the children to join her. Some of the students were scared, or possibly
pretended to be, refusing to join in to help the wizard with his tricks. They
did, however, finally succeed in getting some volunteers to join the wizard on
stage, which was the doorstep, to perform a few more tricks, one of which was
pulling on a magic rope for tug-of-war. By then, the show had been going on for
a while and I was getting cold so I chose to go indoors and was followed by a
few others who felt the same. At the end of the show, the principal made his
speech, everyone cheered and clapped, the students gravitated towards their
class teachers wielding signs to be recognized and followed them to their respective
classrooms.
Once settled, the students were introduced to their
teachers, given a snack and sent home shortly afterwards. Then it was the teachers’
turn to celebrate. We were invited to
the dining room for a snack and the opportunity to acquaint ourselves with
everybody else, especially to meet the Russian teachers who we do not generally
work with and seldom interact with. We sat in a circle and went around the
table introducing ourselves. As each teacher introduced him or herself, the
others were asked to write a well-wishing note for him or her and all the notes
were collected, placed in an envelope and handed to the person. After we’d all
done the task and acquainted ourselves with one another, we were free to
partake in the treats that had been laid down for us – juice, pizza, and fruit.
I did justice to the grapes, but left everything else alone.
The end of the meal brought the day to an end for all of us.
We’d met our students, made new acquaintances and wished one another all the
best for the coming school year. That is what essentially constitutes the back
to school ceremony. At least that is what was done in my school. I will
hopefully have the chance to talk to people from other schools to see if there
are major differences between their celebrations and ours. As I left the
building after the celebration and a few more hours of work, I saw the balloons
still hanging where they had been when I came in. They were the only remnants
of the festive day at the school. It was ominously quiet and no more voices
will be heard till Monday morning when we all come in ready to teach and learn,
set our goals and look forward to the first school break to go on a trip
somewhere to get away from it all for a while.
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