Coming from a generation whose first impressions of Russia were molded by early James Bond films, I hope I might be excused for having a soundtrack of Bondian music running through my head the day I risked all by breaking away from my official tour group to enjoy a few glorious hours freely wandering the streets of St. Petersburg alone.
I knew the rules, but getting an “independent” visa is so expensive ($230) and convoluted that I’d opted for the “all-inclusive” shore excur- sions departing twice daily during the three days my Baltic-cruising ship, the Crystal Symphony, was docked in St. Petersburg. Assured of having a floating hotel and ample sightseeing opportunities, I nevertheless longed to explore a bit on my own. Perhaps the inspiration to “go rogue” came to me when we visited a young couple struggling to regain their Jewish roots during Crystal Cruise’s “Jewish St. Petersburg” tour. Against the odds, and certainly to the surprise of their parents, Dima and Rivkah Krasilshikov had joined a growing movement to resurrect the small surviving Jewish community there.
“During the Soviet era of our parents and grandparents,” Dima explained, “being any religion was frowned upon, but being Jewish carried more historical baggage.” Rivkah, his wife of just one year, added, “In my family, we lost all sense of Judaism. I wouldn’t want our kids, should we have any, to grow up that way. More and more young people feel as we do, as we create a support network.” When Rivkah started serving light drinks and snacks, some in our group quietly slipped a “donation” into Dima’s pocket, knowing that his job fixing computers and their modest apartment were not evidence of untold riches.
One might think there wouldn’t be many people on a luxury cruise opting to spend half a day focused on such a small niche of Russian culture, but there were 40 American dermatologists with their wives aboard our ship, and almost all were Jewish. Others joined in, so we ended up filling two busloads.
Another stop was the Great Choral Synagogue, a majestic building construct- ed in Moorish style between 1880 and 1893. It’s the second-largest synagogue in Europe, and one of the most ornate, with a cupola reaching a height of 154 feet and a prayer hall holding 1,200 worshipers. Next door is a small Chabad shul and, beside that, a shop that sells kosher food and gifts such as Jewish versions of those famous Russian “matryoshka dolls.” While two armed policemen stood guard across the street, representatives of the Jewish community told how the synagogue managed to remain open for prayer even during the difficult Stalinist period. The climax of our visit was a performance by the synagogue’s cantor, Gregory Yaker- son, backed by a keyboard player. Yakerson sang three religious and three traditional folk tunes with an operatic skill worthy of the finest concert halls.
Other shore excursions in St. Petersburg were not Jewish-oriented, but several had Hebraic elements. I especially enjoyed visiting the tsar’s former Winter Palace, now the Hermitage Museum. It’s the second-largest art museum in the world, after the Louvre. A woman named Svetlana (meaning “Sweet Lana,” she kept reminding us) guided us through innumer- able Baroque halls and throne rooms filled with priceless masterpieces by classical and Impressionist painters and sculptors. The Rembrandts included a sympathetic “Portrait of an Old Jew,” and the Old Testament themes “Abraham and Isaac” and “Haman Realizes His Fate.”
Moses appears in mosaic wall tiles at another landmark, the spectacular “onion- domed” Church on the Spilled Blood. The “blood” refers to that of Tsar Alexander II, who was assassinated at the site on March 13, 1881. Scores of Jews also had their blood spilled during dozens of pogroms and similar persecutions, but that kind of dark history is little noted here. There are no Holocaust memorials, but there are plenty of monuments to Rus- sian royalty, many of whose lives ended badly.
A twist on that theme is seen at another palace, famous for a grisly murder. The “mad monk” Grigory Rasputin gained enormous power over the tsar’s family using “deception and occult arts.” In December 1916 Prince Felix Yusupov and his friends murdered Rasputin and threw his body into the canal that still flows outside Yusupov Palace.
Tsar Peter the Great designed St. Petersburg in 1703 to rival the great capitals of Europe, and so it does. Wanting to see more of that city unhindered, the next day I made my “great escape.” Our excursion group had stopped for shopping along bustling Nevsky Prospekt, the main commercial avenue. Making excuses, I committed the ultimate tourist taboo and broke away to explore parks, waterways and decorative bridges on my own as a free agent.
For lunch, I headed to another landmark, the classic Grand Hotel Europe, an Orient Express property and the most magnificent accommodation in St. Petersburg. Manageress Irina Khlopova let me view the fabulous Fabergé, Pava- rotti and Romanov suites, each named for the esteemed guests who had lodged here.
What my stomach wanted, however, was a chance to try authentic Russian dishes that had infiltrated American- Jewish kitchens via thousands of immi- grants – familiar comfort foods such as blinis (potato pancakes) or borscht (beet soup) with smetana (sour cream).
“Unfortunately, we serve that only at night,” Irina said, “so for lunch, I’d recommend a delightful sea bass with saffron.” That got no argument from me, but before long I had to hurry back to rejoin my compatriots to re-board the Crystal Symphony. I had not accomplished all my goals, but I’d certainly enjoyed a wonderful slice of life in old St. Petersburg.
Joseph Lieberman is a freelance travel writer.
