Spring is coming

How to celebrate Maslenitsa, which was banned

On the eve of spring, a miracle has happened for 40 years now: thousands of people find each other in a forest clearing to spend the winter together. This miracle is called “Bakshevskaya Maslenitsa” - an unofficial, most heartwarming and unpredictable holiday in the Moscow region. This year the authorities banned it.

The organizers, obeying the request, canceled the event and promptly deleted the coordinates of the clearing. But hundreds of people still came to the forest. Two hours by train and more than an hour on foot - to get into the unknown.

On this day, in every carriage of the train there are those who are going to Maslenitsa. On the way, they discussed messages in chats: the police and riot police had cordoned off the central clearing with a snow-white fortress. Will there be a holiday?

At the gate, where the mummers usually stand and ask for a ditty for entry, there are two policemen. They don't let anyone through.

- Can I go through?

- You can’t go into the clearing. Investigations are underway.

Someone in the crowd jokes: “They are looking for spring.” They add to him: “And common sense too.” Riot policemen with machine guns tactfully but categorically push people away from the fortress and gates. They are not allowed to take pictures, but they are not detained either.

We go around the cordon from the other side.

In the face of the riot police, their own spontaneous life is already in full swing. People play volleyball, knead snow wall to wall, throw sticks and take off hats from each other. Between the camps that have set up here in the evening, women in sundresses glide - they dance in circles, sing and warm the cold. Some came with a tourist club, some with a group of friends, and some met right on the spot.

Finally the police officer pulls out a loudspeaker:

- Dear citizens!..

Can't make it out any further. Laughter, songs and the forest itself drown out the commands. Several attempts to shout above the elements lead to nothing - the voice is drowned in the general roar. The forest does not listen to shouts. The forest is singing.

There is a ribbon stretched near the pillar. Two riot policemen are standing and selectively letting people through the clearing. By what signs they distinguish those who are going home from those who decided to just look is a mystery.

The pillar itself - a traditional Maslenitsa amusement, people usually climb on it for prizes - ends up on the border. On the free side, three guys take turns trying to conquer the slippery tree. It doesn't work higher than a couple of meters. Finally, the uniformed officer gets tired of watching the futile attempts and convincingly asks not to try again.

Probably, for the first time in the history of Bakshevo Maslenitsa, the pillar remains unconquered.

The gathered crowd finds a guitar - and a spontaneous round dance appears to “Lube”, “KiSha” and Soviet stage music.

The people are having fun, but they look at each other: what is a holiday without a scarecrow?

“The scarecrow was arrested,” someone jokes.

“It looked like Navalny,” they laugh in response.

Half an hour later, a scarecrow appears from several branches, dry hogweed and rags collected around the world. As soon as it is installed in the clearing, people begin to flock of their own accord. An accordion appears - and again dancing, dancing, round dances.

It's starting to snow.

The police officers frozen at their posts are gradually turning into snowdrifts. The people are scattering.

We finish the last pancakes and approach the ribbon in the clearing.

- Apchhi! - one of the riot policemen sneezes.

We wish him good health and dive under the tape. The riot policeman nods and they let us through.

The fortress has already been partially dismantled: two towers have been knocked down. There are broken kolobok detectives lying near the blue snow elephant - since this morning they were standing with a poster “What’s going on here?”

And the blue striped elephant, like our dreams of the old normal, remains standing in the forest. He has nowhere to fly, and he doesn’t want to.

Fedor Kalinin