Does Your Traditional 'New Year Essence' Still Remain?
We often lament that the Spring Festival (Chinese New Year) seems to be increasingly devoid of its traditional 'essence'. The customs once brimming with ritualistic significance seem to be gradually replaced by mobile red packets and generic group messages.
What we long for, perhaps, isn't just tradition itself, but a profound sense of connection to our culture.
Today, I'd like to talk to you about Christmas in Russia. Their story is akin to rediscovering a long-lost 'family secret recipe book', and it might offer us some interesting insights.
Long Ago, A Recipe Book Full of 'Magic'
Imagine your family owning a recipe book passed down through generations, not filled with ordinary dishes, but with festive secret recipes imbued with a sense of magic.
In ancient Russia, Christmas was precisely such a book.
On Christmas Eve, the first thing families would do wasn't to decorate a Christmas tree, but to thoroughly clean their homes – wiping ceilings, walls, and floors with juniper branches. Afterwards, the entire family would go to a steam bath to wash away the dust of the past year.
As night fell, the real 'magic' began. Children would craft large stars from paper and wood, carrying them from house to house, singing praises to the hosts. Generous hosts would, in turn, offer sweets, cakes, and small coins, creating a warm, treasure hunt-like experience.
Everyone would fast until the first star appeared in the sky. Elders would recount stories of the wise men following the star to offer gifts to the newborn Jesus. People believed that Christmas Eve water possessed healing powers; they would use this 'holy water' for washing, and even knead it into dough to bake pies symbolising blessings.
Every page in this 'recipe book' brimmed with reverence, imagination, and the purest form of human connection.
The 70 Years The Recipe Disappeared
Now, imagine this magical recipe book suddenly being forcibly shut and locked away in a cupboard, for over 70 years.
During the Soviet era, Christmas was forbidden. Those complex, poetic traditions, like forgotten incantations, gradually lost their voice. A generation grew up having never personally turned the pages of that 'recipe book', only able to piece together its blurred outline from the scattered words of their elders.
A deep chasm appeared in the transmission of culture.
Creating New Flavours From Memory
Today, the cupboard has been reopened, but time cannot be reversed.
Russians today celebrate their Christmas on January 7th. It's more like a continuation of the New Year holidays, a grand family gathering. People come together, enjoy delicious food, raise toasts, and make wishes under beautifully decorated Christmas trees. It's heartwarming and joyful, but the flavour is no longer what it once was.
It's akin to that lost recipe book, where subsequent generations can only replicate it based on vague memories and their own interpretation. They've retained 'family reunion' as the main course but have added many modern 'seasonings'. The taste is pleasant, but there's always a sense that something is missing.
Retrieving The Recipe, Without Abandoning The Present
Here comes the most interesting part.
Today, Russians are actively working to 'retrieve' that ancient recipe book. They are gradually reviving those forgotten traditions. This isn't about completely negating the present, but rather, like a skilled chef, carefully retrieving the most unique 'spices' from the old recipe to add richer layers to today's new dishes.
They haven't forsaken the joy of family parties, but they've also begun to retell those ancient stories; they enjoy modern conveniences, but they're also attempting to recreate those ritualistic customs.
This process has lent their Christmas a depth greater than ever before. It possesses both the profound historical weight and the warmth of the present.
True Tradition Is Alive
The Russian story teaches us a simple truth: culture isn't an antique displayed in a museum; it possesses a vibrant life force. It can be wounded, it can fracture, but it can also heal and sprout new branches.
We needn't be overly anxious about the 'essence' of the New Year fading. Perhaps, what we need isn't to rigidly copy the past, but like the Russians today, courageously open that 'old recipe book', draw wisdom and inspiration from it, and then, in our own unique way, create a distinct 'new flavour' for this era.
True inheritance isn't unchanging repetition; it's about allowing it to continue to grow in our hands, with understanding and love.
If you're curious about these stories that span time and space, and wish to hear first-hand from a friend in Moscow how their family blends old and new traditions to celebrate the festive season, language should never be a barrier.
Tools like Lingogram, with their built-in AI translation, enable seamless communication with people anywhere in the world. A simple conversation might just allow you to feel the pulse of another culture and experience the preciousness of what was lost and then regained.