My Russian Family

by Lilia Sariecheva

  Houses had no plumbing or utilities. Water was from the well. They had to use outhouses and it was bitterly cold in the long winter. Mobility came from walking and horse-drawn wagons. Tractors started to replace horses in the 1930s, although horses are always practical in the country. Bicycles also appeared in the 1930s. Kerosene lamps provided the lighting and firewood cooked the dinners until the 1950s when electricity and bottled cooking gas became available. Indoor plumbing was a rarity until the 1970s. It was a primitive, healthy, and rewarding life. With an abundance of hard physical work but very little hard cash, there was no room for vanity such as makeup, hair-styling, or jewelry to complicate their lives.

  The older handmade houses in the villages of Russia during the 19th and early 20th centuries might be built with ornate brickwork or with wood. Both would display beautiful hand carved woodwork around the doors, windows, and eaves. The paint would be bright shades of blue, green, red, and sometimes yellow. There was a wonderfully contented look of the houses as they sat in the small country villages.

  The Sariechev house was fairly typical. An orchard with apples, cherries, plums, and pears was on one side and behind the house. These trees were surrounded by a board fence providing protection and support for various berry bushes including red and black currants and gooseberries. Another fenced-in area behind the orchard housed the huge vegetable garden, and farther out was a larger unfenced plot devoted just to potatoes. Behind most houses, one could find a root cellar, a tool shed, and an outhouse.

  Typical Russian peasant homes.

  Many country houses featured a sheet-metal roof, steeply sloped so the snow could slide off easily. The walls were typically made of handmade brick and very thick. The windowsills in the thick walls were wide, sometimes half a meter (20 inches). The floors were thick wooden planks about 40 centimeters (14 to 16 inches) wide which were frequently scrubbed to look like new. The attic, supported by heavy wooden beams, had wooden floors that could accommodate additional hay storage, which provided good insulation and gave off a pleasant aroma. Insect control, especially of the troublesome cockroach, was accomplished by keeping everything clean and never leaving food out. The windows had two glassed-in frames for cold weather, one of which they removed in summertime. Amazingly, flies and mosquitoes were so rare in Arscent’evo that the residents considered screens for the windows and doors unnecessary. The leaves of geraniums, tobacco, and strawberries provided a deterrent to moths.

  Most peasant houses were functionally similar, having a unique construction plan with only a small variation from family to family. The reason for this was that these residences had to be self-sufficient for months at a time during the long, dark winters. Russians are big eaters with bitter memories of starvation periods, so given the opportunity, they maintain a well stocked pantry. This is a habit that few Russians can break, even years later and living in a “land of plenty.”

  Peasant houses usually included three areas, all under one roof, which were separated by thick walls. They consisted of the family’s living quarters, a food storage room, and housing for livestock. Easy access to their animals was necessary so that they could care for and feed them during the hard winters with deep snowdrifts. The animals also give off large amounts of body heat that helped keep the house warmer in cold weather.

  Many houses had three different hand-dug basement storage areas which could be entered by lifting up floorboards. My father was the basement digger in our family. First was a “cold room” near the front door that held pond ice hauled in to help maintain the cold temperature. This area stored the carcasses of pigs, sheep, cattle, and chickens as well as cut meat. Bacon, salted meat, fresh fish, and candy were also stored there. The room also served as a refrigerator to store any cooked food left over from a meal.

  There was a cool dry area to store grains and other foodstuffs. This included both a ground level and a basement area with numerous built-in storage bins holding whole grains like rye, wheat, oats, barley, and buckwheat. Wheat and rye were ground into flour to make the bread each week. This area also stored dried cherries, apples, pears, and various berries (both cultivated and wild), wild hazel nuts, dried mushrooms, and large amounts of dried fish, eggs, and fruit preserves. An abundance of garlic and onions hung from the rafters. Store-bought commodities stored here included salt, sugar, tea, and sunflower oil for cooking. This small basement also contained barrels used for processing cucumbers into pickles and for marinating tomatoes and a combination of cabbages, apples, and carrots. A wide variety of local mushrooms from the forest were either pickled and salted or strung on threads to air dry.

  Another basement storage area was beneath the kitchen. It was used only for fresh fruits and vegetables like potatoes, cabbages, carrots, beets, black radishes, and turnips. Fresh cucumbers and tomatoes could not be stored without spoiling and were only available in season.

  Sariechev House Diagram

  Entry (1) Food Storage Area: Entry to Cold Storage (2), Entry to Dry Food Storage (3). Living Area: Entry to Fresh Food Storage (4), Lilia’s cubicle (5), Varvara and Ivan’s bedroom (6), girl’s bedroom (7), the fireplace/oven 8). Livestock Area: pigpen (9) and roof vent (10).

  Many families had an additional root cellar in back of the house. This was just a hole in the ground with stairsteps cut into the earth. It would have a small shed or roof built over it to give some protection from heat, rain, and snow.

  The house rafters became drying racks for herbs, mushrooms, and clothes. Wooden hutches housed the various dishes and cooking utensils. The dishes kept inside the residence included china and pottery, and containers made of metal and wood. The cast-iron cooking pots stayed under the fireplace.

  Every house had fancy embroidered lace tablecloths and napkins for special feasts. Everyday table settings included a decorated oilcloth for the table and rectangles of cheap cotton cloth for napkins. These napkins are so large that they’re more like towels.

  When I was a child, my personal cubicle in this house was defined by a portable framework with cloth for a screen. This space held my galvanized tin tub for bathing, a potty jar, and my personal possessions. The wide windowsill housed my baby chicks.

  My grandparents Varvara and Ivan’s bedroom was located near the center of the house. Tania, Manya, and Lizza used the large bedroom located in the back part of the house. I also used it as sleeping quarters and the two boys slept there until they were about seven or eight. The doghouse was actually a guard duty station for the dog, right outside the window of the girl’s bedroom.

  The large brick oven in the center of the house could be accessed from all four sides. The two sides open to bedrooms heated those rooms, the north side faced the kitchen and was used for cooking, and the side facing the corridor had small cubicles to place wet clothes and shoes for drying. The boys Vassily and Mishka would usually sleep here. Portable screens defined this bedroom and provided more privacy. Someone always slept on top of the oven in cold weather. It was the best spot in the house!

  The pigpen was located in the northwest corner of the barn. A viewing window allowed frequent monitoring of the piglets. There were stalls for sheep and cattle located around the walls. A second deck overhead was used for hay storage, extra sleeping areas, and housing for the chickens in winter. An open air hole in the roof allowed excess heat to escape and oxygen to enter. It was covered in the winter.

  Everything was neatly maintained and kept sanitary so odors were never a problem. Money was generally scarce, nonexistent, or worthless depending on the times, which meant that thrift was vital and recycling was crucial. Built-in obsolescence of products was a marketing ploy yet to be invented.

  Throughout its early history, Russia was agrarian with the peasant class falling into serfdom. They worked the land during the short summers and made handicraft during the long winters. The workmanship using wood, leather, and metal was excellent. Carving was an art form. Farmwomen were skilled in spinning wool, weaving, sewing, knitting, and embroidery. The wi
ndow curtains were of handmade lace, and lace doilies adorned the tops of dressers and chairs. The family loom produced clothes, small rugs, floor coverings, and tablecloths. These women could provide just about anything the family needed, including tender loving care.

  The people were resourceful in other ways as well. The era of the tsars was hard but a young man with good horses and a need of money could always earn a living in the city as a cabbie transporting people. This was one of many survival techniques.

  The summertime always included a visit by a traveling tinsmith who would expertly repair and patch metal dishes, bowls, and cooking utensils. However, there were no traveling salesmen or religious zealots pounding on people’s front doors. That was illegal under Soviet Power.

  A rectangular area of grass, flowers, an elderberry bush, a lilac bush, and a lone birch tree was enclosed by a picket fence in front of the Sariechev house. The grass was short, thick, and curly and never required cutting. A separate tool room near the garden held the workbench and hand tools used for maintenance, repairs, and the new projects that sprang forth. Small boys herded the sheep, cattle, and horses that grazed in large pastures outside the village.

  The collectivization of farms meant that the land for private use was scarce. This had interesting consequences for the outhouse. The outhouse located behind the house was homemade with only one seat, unlike the two-and threeholers found in America. Typically, the small kids and the females used potty jars in the house and the older boys and men used the outhouse. Interestingly, the outhouse used during my childhood contained neither a septic system nor a dig, fill, and cover system that’s sometimes used in America. The chamber below was of brick, or later a metal tank, which could be pumped out. Periodically, perhaps once a year or as needed, a state tanker truck came around, emptied the material and hauled it off to a purifying plant. Authorities charged only a small fee for this system which dates back to the start of the Soviet state. Some villages still use this system. The material was never used directly on plants as a fertilizer, as is typical in some countries. Further, to avoid contamination of the sludge refinement process, used toilet paper was stored in a separate container and burned periodically. All of this was laborious. However, it certainly was a hygienic system.

  Russian toilet paper was a natural brownish color, as it was not bleached with harsh chemicals. This environmentally friendly paper was both soft and strong, and a roll lasted a long time.

  Several times a week my family would use the log-house banya (bhan-ya), a small separate structure near the house. The only difference between the Russian banya and the well-known Swedish sauna is that a banya has wet heat and a sauna uses dry heat. This facility in Russia is without plumbing, just a wood fire, special rocks that could absorb heat without cracking, a barrel of pond water to pour on the hot rocks to make steam, and some benches to sit on. Self-flagellation with birch branches stimulated the nervous system and was followed by a cold-water rinse. No one I knew would run out and jump into the cold pond water. However, the process in the old days included a short dip in a nearby river or lake, regardless of the weather. Part of the winter routine was breaking the ice each morning to keep a hole open in the lake for drinking water and for use in the banya. The banya has been in use for probably thousands of years in the cold northern country.

  The women also could use the banyas as a laundry room and then hang the clothes out behind the house. During the hot summer months, the ritual was more like a shower by pouring warm water over oneself. This is similar to the practice in Southeast Asia where a huge kalong jar provides water to pour over oneself with a metal pan. Asians enjoy this frequently to counteract high humidity and heavy perspiration.

  Older Russians could remember when most people still used a banya. The claim is that very few people ever became sick when they followed this tradition. Family banyas have yielded to larger well-attended public banyas, to which some people go daily and some weekly. Common ailments appeared to be more prevalent among those citizens who did not bathe regularly. In the sunnier climates of the south, it was common to forgo a bath and just splash on some perfume.

  Early travelers, including religious wanderers and traders, came to Russia hundreds of years ago and even earlier. Their observations were interesting and frequently inaccurate.

  For instance, visitors noted that Russians spent a lot of time inside eating, drinking, sleeping, and fornicating. So, they opined, they must be a lazy bunch. In fact, during the five or so months of spring and summer, prodigious amounts of work must be accomplished, including raising crops, harvesting, preparing for winter, and so forth. There is only a limited amount of work for men in the winter, and many days they cannot even leave the house due to snow and cold.

  Over thousands of years, the Russians learned to pace their work in relation to the seasons. The summer work was necessary for their survival and it allowed little time for relaxing or sleeping. Those luxuries belonged to the winter, which was almost like hibernation time. But rest was required to rejuvenate people for the summer onslaught of work. It is amazing how long Russians can go with little sleep or food, just work and more work! In those days, even the children worked 16 to 18 hours a day. This close relationship with nature’s cycles gave them a great appreciation for their environment.

  Russians in the Middle Ages had a strong tendency to keep their cities very clean with efficient water systems. During this time, vitamin deficiency and other common ailments were almost unknown among the Russians because of their healthy eating habits and physical lifestyle. That was in marked contrast to many places in the world at that time, including Europe.

  The Black Plague that decimated Europe between 1347 and 1400 AD resulted in possibly 25 million deaths, which is about one-third of Europe’s population. This Black Death had a relatively late and mild affect on Russia, and primarily in the larger cities. This was probably due to both the semi-isolation and the sanitation. Also, the freezing winter weather is not favorable to virus, bacteria, or fleas. Houses that were involved in disease epidemics during the cold months were temporarily abandoned and allowed to “freeze out.” Later on, the residents would return with no problems. It is unknown how this practice started but it worked, and word of mouth kept the technique going.

  The chimneyless houses in the small towns and villages were likely a major reason that the plague and other epidemics had less effect in Russia than in Europe. Russians built houses without chimneys for several reasons. Smoke actually has a known sanitizing effect and this is one reason to avoid chimneys. Russians also knew that most of the heat from a fireplace is lost out the chimney, so without a chimney they obtained superior heat retention. Early visitors’ journals noted the lack of chimneys on Russian houses. They blamed it on ignorance and they wrote that they were stupid barbaric people. In fact, chimneys were well known in early Russia. Buildings hundreds of years old can be found with chimneys.

  Typically, one fire would be built each day, usually in the late afternoon or early evening, to cook dinner and to warm the house. Windows and doors would be cracked open for ventilation as needed to bring in fresh air. As the fire died down, the house would remain warm, and doors and windows would be closed. The rocks or thick homemade bricks of the fireplace and walls retained a great deal of heat to ward off the cold night.

  Each week, the young girls of the house would scrub the walls and furniture using homemade cleaning solutions to remove the soot. My granny Varvara could remember a few chimneyless houses when she was a girl. However, the practice has slowly died out and today these houses are very rare.

  Following farm collectivization by the Soviets, the state took over Arscent’evo’s two huge log barns and the villagers could no longer use them. The state also maintained a huge root cellar and the villagers could not store their own food there. The huge collective farm, which Arscent’evo belonged to, included ten or so villages that provided additional land and labor. Although Arscent’evo no longer exists, other larger vil
lages in that area still remain part of that same huge collective farm.

  About four kilometers (2.5 miles) away from Arscent’evo is a small town of maybe 5,000 people called Vyshetravino. This town had a small medical clinic, a veterinarian, a garage and mechanics, a school, several general stores that sold a wide variety of goods, a café, a small police station, an administrative building, and a post office. Several two-story buildings with pleasant apartments were made available free for the farm workers. The apartments have running water, heaters, and space for gardens outside. Some of the Arscent’evo residents moved into these apartments. Vyshetravino is a typical quiet, small country town where everyone knew everyone else (including their business). It is a nice place to live.

  Abandoned Arscent’evo houses, 2005.

  I revisited the village of Arscent’evo in late summer of 2005. It was a pleasant drive heading east from Ryazan, and in just 20 minutes I was there. The last four kilometers involved a neglected dirt road and this set the stage. Arscent’evo was deserted and overgrown. Regrettably, in the mid-1950s the younger people started moving away to a “better life” and many villages started to die out as the elders passed on and the birth rate slowed. There are still functional villages but they are fewer and smaller. The pond at Arscent’evo was full of green scum and reeds. Impenetrable vegetation of tall tangled weeds and large brush kept me from visiting the only three remaining houses. Everything manmade was either taken away or was decaying. At first, my heart sank and the area reminded me of my initial mental image of Chernobyl. Then I pondered all this evidence of Mother Nature reclaiming the entire village and my heart became lighter. Both here and in Chernobyl, the ancient forest ecology system appeared to be functioning well with the reduced involvement by man. I saw that some of the huge surrounding fields were under cultivation by the same large collective farm and other enormous fields were lying in summer fallow, unused and regenerating.