- What if I pull your beard, Granddaddy? Literally, I mean. Would you mind?
- Do, please. For you I’ll make an exception. But if every inquisitive person will be coming up to me to fiddle with my beard, not much of it will be left by New Year’s Eve, I’m afraid. A flock of little kids came to see me earlier today. One very brave little boy pulled out a hair out of my beard and started reciting magic words: Ajji Majji la Tarajji. ‘My dear young friend,’ I had to explain to him, ‘I’m not the one you take me for. I’m not a Persian genie, I’m from a different fairy tale.’
- But everybody wants to be certain yours is a real beard, not one made of cotton.
- But what makes you so suspicious from the outset, my friend? What cotton are you talking about? It’s a real beard.
- Just recently you vowed you’d have your beard shaved off if Russia won the 2018 World Football Cup.
- Not every word of mine should be taken literally. Your fellow journalists didn’t’ realize it was a figure of speech. Say when one right and noble gentleman, overpowered by joy, shouts to another gentleman, as right and noble: “Let me give you a kiss!” it does not necessarily mean he is really about to do so. I just tried to let everybody know how strongly I wished to see our team succeed in this contest our country will host. I do have confidence in our guys!
- Were you there at that time?
- Why, of course! My residence was in the heart of the Olympic Park. A very convenient location it was. You could not miss it. There were long lines to the memorabilia shop selling souvenirs and to the office of yours truly all day. Not only sports fans, but also athletes and other respected people and celebrities kept coming to see me. For instance, Thomas Bach, the IOC president, and other senior executives and people of authority. I didn’t stay there all the time, though. I took long strolls about the park and showed up at the stadiums from time to time. I kept my fingers crossed for the Russian skiers, which was only natural. This is a traditional winter sport. I also was very emotional about those other guys who race on skis with rifles on their backs… What are they called? Oh, Lord, the word escapes me…
- Biathletes.
- Biathletes! Right! I liked them so much. Yours truly had quite a day today. Grandpa Frost’s schedule is tight. Small wonder I feel a little bit weary towards the close of day. It’s somewhat difficult for me to recall things. Also, you ought to make allowances for my old age. My apologies… To put it in a nutshell, I supported our Olympic athletes in Sochi to the best of my ability.
- And do you do some sports yourself?
- Yes, surely. It’s a real pleasure to go out skiing on a frosty winter day! My main residence is in the countryside near the city of Veliki Ustyug. It’s one hundred football pitches in area. All planted up by fir trees…
It’s such a pity for me fishing is not an Olympic sport. Otherwise I would’ve surely taken part. I’ve always been a fisherman as far back as I can remember myself. And I am a real connoisseur, you know. There is a chain of ponds at my estate, all crawling with carps. I’m an early riser. In summer time I may get up as early as four in the morning to get in a boat and bait the hook at dawn. There’s nobody around. It’s so quiet and beautiful! And in winter time I may try myself at ice fishing. To tell you the truth, though, I have virtually no spare time to spare for such hobbies starting from the middle of November. There are other more important duties to attend. But if I go fishing, I take no electric gadgets or other sophisticated gear. I do it the old way my own grandfathers did. And if I catch a fish, I take a look at it and then let it go back into the lake.
- Why?
- Haven’t I told you: I like fishing as a sport! I do it for the sake of thrill and pleasure, and not to get something to eat. I don’t starve at all. I like natural types of products – mushrooms, berries, baked products. Have you ever tried the tiny round-shaped stuffed cakes that people still make in the Arkhangelsk Region and also in the Kirov Region, on the Volga and in villages around Vologda? I’m a northerner, so the local foods are my choice. In my winter garden, though, I grow oranges and pineapples. To treat the visiting kids to.
- As far as snacks concerned, it’s more or less clear. What kind of drinks do you prefer?
- Hmm… fresh water is good enough for me. Tea is still better. Tea is always welcome.
- Don’t you think this is a little bit wrong? A shot of vodka, especially when you come in from the cold – what can be better?
- I’m telling you that I am right and I can prove it! As for alcohol… I’d put it this way. It puts the individual to test. It’s always been so. Whenever I show up on the doorstep, the host usually offers a glass of liquor to see if there is a real Grandfather Frost in front of him, or an imposter. The one who agrees is a fake. Tell him to get out at once! This cheater will never bring anything good to your home. The one who refuses to drink is genuine Grandpa Frost.
- In other words, you?
- In other words, yes. Me or some of my aides. I cannot be everywhere however hard I might try to. I take this opportunity to say hello to Dmitry Nazarov, a great friend of mine, holder of the People’s Actor of Russia title, who appears on stage at Oleg Tabakov’s Moscow Arts Theater. When I hadn’t started travelling all over the country yet but welcomed guests only at Veliki Ustyug, Dmitry helped me a lot and substituted for me at various events in Moscow and all other cities. Nazarov will always be a welcome guest here. I’d be glad to see him!
- What’s your official title – "…of all Russia"?
- That’s something I do not like. I hate officialdom. Do you know what makes a professional Grandfather Frost different from the real one? The professional one is the one who’s made you believe he is one, while the real one is he who has not deceived you. Don’t you feel the difference? All of us, young folks and old folks, do dream of a miracle.
- And how far back can you remember yourself?
- I’m not in the habit of counting years. Why should I? I just go on living.
I can show you my passport, issued by the chief of police of the Veliki Ustyug District, the Vologda Region. It has a number and an official stamp. It’s an official ID. Fifteen years ago I was offered a retiree’s certificate. I refused to accept it. I feel well and thoughts of retiring never visit my mind. Some scientists say they’ve discovered documentary evidence I was born in the 6th century BC. There is a mention of me in some ancient Iranian philosophy, I’m told. So I’m two and a half thousand years old. At least.
- You are definitely in good shape.
I keep working on it. Those who like fitness usually look good.
There’s hardly anyone I could go to ask about the details of my biography. All of my colleagues in the same line of business, winter magicians, I mean, are much younger. However, it is against the rules of our profession to boast about one’s origin and background, or to quarrel about who is older and has greater merits. All Santa twins are my brothers – Weihnachtsmann in Germany, Pere Noel in France, Joulupukki in Finland, Babbo Natale in Italy, and Zyuzya Poozersky (literally meaning “Zyuzya of the Land of Lakes), in Belarus.
- Do you speak any foreign languages?
- The language of kindness does not require translation.
- It goes without saying.
- It does. Although I may not be as fluent in English as I should or would like to be, when at the annual get-together of winter conjurers and magicians in Copenhagen the issue was brought up of our involvement or non-involvement in politics, I managed to express my point of view very clearly and, I think I drove the message home. When your country is under attack, there’s no chance of staying aloof. I’ve proven that many a time. In 1812 and in 1941… Somebody may not know it, but I have a senior military rank. I’m General Frost. It was Emperor Napoleon who was the first to have referred to me in this fashion. Then there followed Adolf Hitler - his name not to be mentioned in the night-tide. All had a really hard time dealing with me. Russian winters served them right.
That’s approximately what I told my fellows in Copenhagen. Up to one thousand Santas get together there sometimes.
- All of them sporting beards like yours?
- Most, but not all. For instance, my brother in Karelia, Pakkaine, is beardless. He is still rather young. A really handsome guy he is, good-humored and good-natured. All girls like him. Should he pass by a mirror, his reflection stays there, and on December 1 another Pakkaine will emerge from it…
By the way, Santa Claus from the US has the worst problems. In the US there is a special law that prohibits adults from talking to somebody else’s children, touching them and even giving gifts. In the US children are taught from their very first days not to ever approach strangers or take things from them. In the meantime, on Christmas Eve parents themselves may put their kids on Santa’s lap and encourage them to recite poems. Some kids are curious whose advise they should follow. So US Santas have to be extremely tactful. It is essential not to make kids feel scared, not to cause any harm… Also, the US Santa does not like his name is often used for commercial purposes by the vendors of sweet soft drinks. He doesn’t earn a cent on this and leads a very moderate way of life in his New Hampshire residence. I was there several times. By the way, soft drink manufacturers tried to clinch a deal with me, too, back in 1999. They urged me to agree to appear in commercials and promised mammoth kickbacks in exchange. I refused even to discuss the terms. Besides, Russia’s Grandfather Frost is not for sale to anyone, let alone US junk food manufacturers.
My Japanese twin is called Hoteiosho and he has eyes in the back of his head to see everything around better.
In a word, each country has a magician of its own. But all of them are younger than me. Most of them are dated back to the 3rd century A.D. St. Nicholas, the Bishop of Myra, was their ancestor. Legend has it that once upon a time in the territory of what is Turkey today there lived a man. His main accomplishment as a Christian was he helped three Christians, whose father was so poor that he was unable to pay any dowry for their marriage. Without any prospect of finding husbands this meant the sisters may have been forced into earning their daily bread by selling their bodies. Nicholas wanted to help the family, but did not want to attract any attention to himself, either. So he climbed the roof of their house one night and threw three gold coins into the chimney. All coins fell into a stocking that was drying by the fireplace. In the morning the sisters found the money, which proved enough for them to get married. That’s how Santa Claus was brought into being.
My own story is somewhat different.
- Will you tell it, please?
- It’s a Russian fairy tale! Although I would not call it strictly Russian. At a certain point Patriarch Alexy II, of Moscow and All Russia, came to my place at Veliki Ustyug. At that time there was a big controversy over whether the Russian Orthodox Church should recognize me or not. After all, I am from a land of pagans. Russia was not a Christian country in those days. His Holiness was wise enough to declare: “It’s a pagan tradition, of course, but it is also a kind and good one. You have my blessing.” So with his blessing I still carry on.
To my regret I see politicians these days have been trying to drive wedges between peoples. This should not be allowed to happen.
- You start sounding like a preacher.
- Possibly, I do. But what’s wrong about that? I’m not a clergyman, mine is a different department.
- Do you work at the New Year parties in the Kremlin?
What does this word “work” mean? I go to all places where people would like to see me.
- Are you an acquaintance of Putin?
Yes, we’ve met more than once. On January 7, 2007 the President even paid a visit to my Veliki Ustyug Estate. We had a long talk.
- In what way did the president address you?
Grandpa. And I addressed him by his first name and middle name. In compliance with the protocol.
- And what did you talk about?
We talked about tolerance and respect among the peoples of different cultures.
- Did the president ask you for something?
You know, I try to keep quiet about the requests addressed to me.
- Did you make the wish of Russia’s number one person come true?
Haven’t you been able to feel the effects of that on your own life?
- Life looked brighter then. Soaring oil prices, a firm ruble and no sanctions…
I’d put it this way. It is not my magic powers or presidential wishes that the future depends on. It depends on us, dear friends. The future is whatever we make it. Don’t shift the responsibility onto the shoulders of Grandfather Frost or the head of state.
- And what did YOU ask the president for?
Not that I asked him for something… I briefed him on the problems people encounter every day. Strange as it might seem, in the northern city of Veliki Ustyug there is no place for children to do winter sports – ice hockey and figure and speed skating. Now I have the Moroz-Arena (Frost Arena).
I’ve never been keen to rub shoulders with the powers that be, but I never ostentatiously dodge their company. Why should I? Just recently I met with State Duma members. I honestly told them that some bills were half-baked. That they should do a far better job. Had I enough powers, I would’ve proposed a bill on the protection of Russian fairy tales.
- Protection from what?
From attempts at their literal interpretation, which merely emasculate their meaning. Our fairy tales are allegoric. Yet some adults start analyzing them in a straightforward manner. They focus on details that are utterly unimportant for children. Take the fairy tale Morozko (Grandfather Frost) – the 1964 movie (its English language version, subtitled and well-dubbed, can easily be found on YouTube). One girl, Nastenka, does not tell me the truth when I ask her: “Are you warm, girlie?” “I’m warm,” she lies, though she’s half-dead with cold in a winter forest. By doing so she displays remarkable patience, for which she gets a hefty reward from me. While her stepsister, Marfushenka, a rude and greedy personality, when she finds herself on the same place in a winter forest, says the truth in plain words: “Are you crazy, silly old man? Give me my a fiancée and a dowry at once!” And she gets properly punished. From some adults’ point of view this is illogical and utterly wrong. But have you ever seen a kid who would fail to distinguish between what is right and what is wrong? Children’s understanding is at the level of intuition. Nobody needs dull and boring moralizing that can leave any living creature lifeless.
There’s a nice piece of poetry about this I'd like to recite.
Trust fairy tales. Beware of lies.
A good old tale won’t let you down.
Just tell a tale. To your surprise
There’ll be more truth to go around.
The fairy tale is an intricate way of coding the truth. That’s why my heart is bleeding for its future.
- Go ahead, then and propose such a bill.
I think I’ll have a word with some Duma members I know.
- Haven’t you been invited to contest a seat in parliament?
Vladimir Zhirinovsky told me he might put my name on the Liberal Democratic Party ticket.
- Who would’ve ever doubted that!
I do understand that many associate this man with the harsh things he says in TV debates, but in real life he is a peaceful and intelligent person. I thanked him for the offer and… declined. I’ve already found my way in life and I’m not in the mood of changing it. Those who might think that Grandfather Frost’s job is easy are very wrong. So many nuances have to be born in mind. For instance, at the recent forum in Copenhagen we discussed a subject that does not look amusing at all: is it right to give toy weapons to children as gifts? For instance, a toy handgun, a toy machinegun or, say, a model of a battle tank? Is it good or is it bad? Opinions differ.
- What do you think?
I haven’t made up my mind yet, but I think I tend to believe that a toy cannot be a symbol of war. After all, weapons are not to blame they can be fired. It always takes a human being to pull the trigger. The one who’s been brought up badly may eventually turn out a killer, while another one will be defending one’s home country. Just recently I met with students at a philosophy institute and they prompted me a magic word: ambivalent. I asked them what it meant. They explained it was a synonym for duality. A thing or phenomenon that admits of a double interpretation. It’s a very convenient option for those who are reluctant to declare one’s own attitude. It cuts both ways. I do not quite share this sort of approach. I prefer more specific solutions. Either, or…
- Since we are on the subject of gifts, will you tell us what are you asked for most often?
I’ve never paid any attention to statistics. The Russian Public Opinion Research Center VCIOM is very helpful. It conducts such surveys regularly. Money remains on the top of the list. Trips, sophisticated gadgets and jewelry follow… But far from all people are that materialistic. Quite often the way the letter is written is a clear hint if a youngster authored it alone, or there had been an adult prompting the words. All letters dictated by adults look very much alike: “Hello, Grandfather Frost. Please send me this and that…” Such letters usually end with a couple of phrases about the author. “I’m a good student and I turn an attentive ear to my parents’ advice.” But when a boy or a girl write on their own, without any prompters, the letters sound very sincere. So quite often I’ve read things like that: “Dear Grandpa Frost, please make sure my granny should never be ill, my mom should never weep at night and my dad should get back home…”
- Are there any requests you may turn down?
There are. One boy wrote to me: “Grandpa Frost, will you, please, send me a toy-car that is far better than the one my pal Viktor has.” I’ll never send him one. It’s not the toy car that the boy wants to get, but a chance to show off. Or there was one letter that looked like a weird joke. It was a long list of very expensive items – a new notebook, the latest iPhone model and so on and so forth. The letter ended with these words. “I’ll keep a copy of the letter. Please send me the gifts one by one. I’ll be deleting the items in my copy of accordingly to be sure there’s no mistake and you don’t not forget anything.”
But such letters are very rare. And I get nearly a million of them each year. Not only from Russia. Guess the country from which I get more letters than any other, apart from Russia?
- Before 2014 it must have surely been Ukraine.
No, Ukraine has its own St. Mykola, who since 2004 has been settled in the Hutsul Region.
- And Russia’s Grandfather Frost, his grand-daughter the Snow Maiden, monuments to Vladimir Lenin, the hammer-and-sickle emblem and all other legacies of the Soviet past have fallen victim to the all-out anti-Communist campaign?
You know, things like that happened in history so many times. First, I had problems with the Orthodox Church as an embodiment of a pagan tradition running counter to the true faith. Then the Bolsheviks took over to outlaw me in 1918 - as a legacy of the clerical era and – mind you! – as a symbol of Orthodoxy. New Year celebrations were canceled. And it was only in 1935 that New Year celebrations around the Yule tree were back. Oddly enough, it happened in … Ukraine’s Kharkov. In other words, I had to go through the same ordeal again and again. In Ukraine, too. Each new ruler who takes over feels obliged to change something in history, to turn everything inside out. The question is for how long all this will last. It’s like a foam on the surface. It will be gone before long and life will return to normal.
- A few words about Crimea: whose land is it?
It belongs to the people who live there. They have the right to decide what country they wish to live in and who they should be on friendly terms with. I’ve been there. Not in springtime, though, but when I am obliged to, during the winter season. After 2014, too.
- That means there’s no chance for to you to go to Kiev.
What makes you think so? Kindness defies borders. True, some may have a grudge against me for no apparent reason. I do permit that I may even confront resistance, but when people take the trouble of listening to what I have say to them they will heed my message. I am certain that we will find a common language.
I meet very different people – from two-year-olds to mayors, governors and presidents. There isn’t a region or a large city where I haven’t been just once. Let may say this again: I cannot visit every apartment and every house myself. My aides to that for me, but there are certain places that I feel obliged to go to. I recall my first official visit to Yakutia. I picked several letters I had received from children there and their addresses and in the company of my local colleague, called Chyskhaan, set out to pay visits. Everything went just great! One day we came to an old dilapidated house looking more like a slum. On the door step we were welcomed by a very pretty young lady. The moment she opened the door she started jumping with joy. She’d never seen real Grandfather Frost, let alone in the company of Chyskhaan. The neighbors’ children got around virtually in no time. There was an ocean of fun! That’s what I call happiness.
I like to visit places where the triumph of culture can be readily seen, where traditions are respected and where ever more musical and art centers are opened. In the outgoing year I visited the town of Klin, near Moscow, where the great Pyotr Tchaikovsky spent the last months of his life. There is an excellent museum house and a modern school of arts for children.
On November 18 I celebrate my birthday in Veliki Ustyug and the next day I’m already on the way. In the last days of December I meet the Snow Maiden in Kostroma, where she lives, and from that moment on we travel together. Incidentally, it was the Snow Maiden who taught me how to take selfies. Right on stage.
My official residence at Veliki Ustyug opened in 1998. It’s a beautiful log house. It takes overcoming certain obstacles to get there, but the road into a fairy tale land cannot be an easy one. I often argue with education workers, with those teachers and professors who are for so-called conflict-proof instruction at school. They maintain that children at school should be protected from strain. It is true, that ours is a hectic and strained life, but if a youngster is not taught to confront challenges, to mold one’s character, what kind of person will he grow up in the end? The course of life puts a persons’ character to test and makes it stronger. This can be well seen in the history of the world civilization. So the problems on the way to my countryside estate in the Vologda Region should not look scaring. True, far from everybody can afford the tickets and accommodation, but those who do come to Veliki Ustyug prove that they really wished to do so.
- Have you ever chanced to confront imposters face to face?
- Why, naturally. Not without that. But I’ve never staged noisy rows. I tried to explain to them that people’s wish to see miracles should never be used for selfish purposes. Fairy tales should not be ruined. I always try to retain the hope that the person has made a mistake, has gone astray, and that he may get back onto the right path again, should he be pointed the direction where to go.
Haven’t you ever guessed how many times you fellow journalists tried to knock me out with all sorts of provocative questions? I’ll tell you frankly that sometimes I really felt like freezing some cheeky journalists, turning them into an ice statue, but eventually I took a deep breath and ignored their stinging remarks. However hard some tried to make me lose temper, the advent of New Year was imminent. Don’t you see? Miracles cannot be canceled or marred.
Now I have another story to tell. Seven years ago we were about to launch a space rocket from Plesetsk carrying children’s letters. We selected one hundred most kind and sincere messages from all over Russia. We were not allowed to send enveloped letters, because onboard a spaceship every gram of the payload is precious. So we made a collection of clippings, thus putting together a collection of the brightest phrases. And we put those letters into orbit around the Earth. They must be still flying there. And may the evil forces try to get them if they think they are that mighty. Their hands are too short for that. The letters are beyond their reach.
Once I’m in Plesetsk, I thought, I should meet soldiers there. First, I visited the barracks and then I went to a local military hospital. I had visited army units on many occasions before, so I already knew well enough what punchline produces the strongest impression on the enlisted men. And that magic phrase I always kept in store for them, which was more welcome than the most precious gift is this: “Demob is inevitable!” Those three words always put us on amicable terms.
After visiting all wards in the hospital I was already about to take my leave when the chief medical officer told me: “We haven’t been to the intensive care ward yet. We have two grave cases there. Both soldiers were run over by motor vehicles. It was an accident. One soldier, hit by a motorbike still has chances of survival, while the other, hit by an army truck would most certainly die.” Naturally, I went there. I couldn’t but go.
I stepped in. On a snow-white bedsheet I saw the body of a young man the color of the sheet he was lying on. His deep blue eyes brimming with pain impressed me the most. I remember I pronounced some clichéd phrases, like: "I’m Grandfather Frost from Veliki Ustyug. I’m here to extend a helping hand at this hard moment in your life.” The other soldier made some sort of response. Clearly, he was on the road to recovery already, while the other stayed motionless. He barely managed to set his eyes on me. I congratulated both upon the coming New Year. I told them everything would certainly be all-right, I gave them their presents and turned towards the door. Already on my way out I suddenly saw the eyes of the chief surgeon round with surprise and the medical cap literally go up a little bit as his short grey hair stood on end. It took me a while to figure out what it meant. I asked my medical companions: “What’s the matter?” First, the doctor mumbled something incomprehensible. When he grew a little bit calmer, he explained to me: “You see, with one’s spine crushed to pieces the patient is unable even to lift a finger. Such a person is utterly motionless. But this guy, who’d been run over by that heavy army truck raised his hand to take the gift from you. As I see, miracles do happen sometimes!”
This is not the end of the story, though. That soldier survived. He goes on living. True, he is confined to his wheelchair, but he is alive.
Magic things do occur in this world. And more often than it may seem to us.
A young girl in Chita (she has cerebral palsy) receives a letter from me. In fact, she was the first to write to me in Veliki Ustyug, and then I replied to her. Then there followed a second letter from her. I opened it and this is what I read: “Dear Granddaddy Frost! I’m so happy to know that you do exist. When my mom told me she’d brought me a letter from you, I stood up from my chair and moved towards her to get it! Those three or four steps were the first ones in my life! Now I know that I’ll overpower my disease. Thank you so much!”
Honestly, I’ve lived long enough and seen much in my life, but at such moments I feel I can hardly hold my tears back. Shall I explain it? It’s not me who’ve performed this or that miracle. That a person suddenly develops self-confidence is not by Divine Providence. It’s just ordinary human magic. And I’m happy at the thought I’m involved in this somehow.
Regrettably, good and evil go hand in hand in this world. There still is too much evil around and it keeps breeding grief. But rancor should not be allowed to overflow. To my mind, wild animals over the past one thousand years have turned less cruel, while human beings, on the contrary, tend to get more beastly. This is a bad omen. There is much more cynicism and indifference than there were just recently. Honestly, sometimes I stop to think whether it was good the pre-historic man took a stick in his hands. As a result civilization started moving along the technological path of development. Had our remote ancestor tried to get a piece of fresh fruit from the tree not in some primitive fashion, but with the power of thought, today’s people might have been living quite differently and in a far more harmonious and humane world. But that’s just a wild dream of mine.
- Do you have to use your stick for self-defense sometimes?
- I try not to overdo that, but at certain moments I feel like hitting someone really hard. I hold my anger back, though. On one occasion I used the stick as an improvised obstacle. It was when President Vladimir Putin came to Veliki Ustyug. We appeared on the porch of my home and I told everybody around what kind of guest I had. All those strolling about the premises instantly gathered around. Both grown-ups and children… There was no jostling. All of them seemed polite and decent. But the crowd was very large, so I had to put my stick in front of me. As a token of protection. But I’ve never had to use it to defend myself, let alone attack somebody.
- And yet, you are said to be not an easy person. You are said to have quarreled with your senior brother many centuries ago and even abandoned your home. Is that true?
I’ve never tried to make others think I am super-kind person. I have a sharp tongue and my jokes can be really witty and to the point. As far as my quarrel with the Aquarius is concerned, many scientists have been digging for clues to my origin and understand where I came from. May they keep digging. It’s their job. I don’t mind. I reckon the questions still outnumber the answers by far for now. Svetlana Zharnikova, a nice person and a remarkable scholar, with a doctor’s degree in the history of arts, has written a voluminous work on the history of New Year celebrations in Russia’s northern regions. Many pages in that book are about me. I read them and had a really good laugh… What can I say? Scientists sometimes look for simple solutions, while far from all things in life are as obvious and straightforward. On the other hand, Svetlana has studied heaps of documents and let me learn many things I’d been utterly unaware before.
I got as far as Strasbourg to address the Council of Europe to make just one call: come on, folks, do take the trouble of mastering the skill of listening to each other! I keep saying this again and again year in year out century after century. Dripping water hollows out stone. I’ve been to Thailand, South Africa, Canada, Australia and even the Antarctic.
- Well, the South Pole’s climate is surely all right with you.
- Incidentally, one of the wintering party members at first refused to believe that I really came from Veliki Ustyug. He happened to be from the same city as well. He had graduated from an engineering college there, so he kept questioning me for a long time when the city was founded, what the main street was called and how many embankments we had… It was only after a while that he agreed to believe I was from Veliki Ustyug, too.
I travel a lot! True, in this respect I’m still way behind a good old friend of mine, Fyodor Konyukhov. He crossed the ocean in a boat, he traveled round the Earth on a balloon non-stop and he went into the ocean depths in deep-diving mini-subs. In a nearby town of Totma, well reputed as the birth place of many professional seafarers who travelled as far as the Aleutians, Fyodor opened a school of travelers. That was six years ago. I’ve been there more than once.
I have a large fleet of transport vehicles. A Troika Sleigh, a flying wolf, and seven-league boots… And my wardrobe is OK, too. Dozens of fur coats, no less than sixty of them. Some are for gala events, and others, for everyday use. I have garments for any weather and season. In Veliki Ustyug there is a special Grandfather Frost Fashion House. It makes up to four hundred New Year costumes a year. Not for me only, but for my aides, too. The seamstresses there are wonderful, creative personalities. And the clothes designer, Nadezhda Dezhneva, is a grand-grand-grand-grand… In a word, she is a very remote descendant of Russia’s legendary seaman Semyon Dezhnev, who was the first to sail through the Bering Strait. Semyon Dezhnev was born in Veliki Ustyug, too.
On one occasion I took a collection of my clothes to Sochi for an exhibition. I’d chosen sixteen best furcoats for this event. Slava Zaitsev, our well-recognized fashion trend-setter led the panel of judges. When the show was over, he came up to me and said. “Those clothes of yours are very good. Genuine haute couture things.” At first I felt somewhat confused. I’d never heard the words before. God knows what they could mean, I thought. Then I was told they meant nothing bad at all. On the contrary, it was a compliment. And I heaved a sigh of relief.
For this meeting of ours I decided to wear a jacket with no wadding or fur. It’s a very light garment good for a light frost.
- And what do you have on in countries like Thailand?
- I change to my summer costume. In summer time air temperatures in Veliki Ustyug may go up to 30 degrees above freezing. You don’t think that I have fur coats on in such weather, do you? By the way, many adults keep telling no end of foolish things about me. Some argue that Grandfather Frost may start melting in the sun. It’s very silly! I’m made not of snow and ice. I’m only flesh and blood. But some poor kids do believe what their moms and dads say about me and start blowing at me! To make me feel nice and cool… I cannot help! So I have to put up with it. I’ve got accustomed to it over years.
Now here’s another “oddly enough” story. I’d been to Sochi many times before the Olympics. I met workers at local construction sites and local kids. I went there both in summer and in winter. And I could never resist the temptation of taking a swim in the Black Sea. One day I went to a beach early in the morning so as to not cause any confusion among the holiday-makers. As for my bathing suit… How should I describe it to you best? It’s very old-fashioned, with horizontal stripes, looking very much like the attire circus strongmen used to wear early last century … In a word, I put it on and went to the beach. The beach was almost empty. Only two men were taking their time on the beach benches. Judging by their look, they’d spent the whole night by the sea. Obviously they’d really enjoyed themselves, if you know what I mean. I guess you know what people’s faces may look the morning after the night before.
Both of them turned to me as I passed and they literally froze, their mouths widely open in astonishment. While I was swimming in the sea these men managed to come round.
“You know, Grandpa, first we had the fear it was the booze to blame. We thought we were seeing visions. We took you for Leo Tolstoy’s ghost!” they told me. I had a really good laugh then. Nobody has ever mistaken me for the Russian literature classic, before or since.
- At what age do people stop believing in Grandfather Frost?
It is widely thought that there are three periods in the life of each man: “I believe in Grandfather Frost,” “I do not believe in Grandfather Frost” and “I am Grandfather Frost myself.” That’s absolutely correct!
I never try to persuade anybody. Why should I take the trouble of proving something? It's voluntary.
They wish to look like grown-ups. So they keep telling each other that Grandfather Frost does not exist, that it is a legend. That there can be only dressed actors. But should any of them meet me one-on-one, in private, without any witnesses seeing it, they instantly throw arms around my neck. “Grandpa, thank you for coming! I’d been waiting for you so much!” And do you have any idea what problems worry them the most? The very first love in life, quarrels with age-mates, their own parents’ failure to understand them… Quite often the boys and girls wish to pour their heart out, to have an attentive listener in front of them, who would not be quick to scold and lecture them. Believe it or not, but I’ve saved many teenagers from the most terrible thing – from laying hands on themselves. Some wish to take their own lives due to loneliness or inability to share one’s pain with someone who would understand. I listen to all of them, for I do understand that they cannot keep all this barreled up inside them forever. So the first thing I do I try to understand. Grown-ups write to me, too. One in ten letters in my daily mail is from an adult.
- Do they ask for something on their children’s behalf?
They say they need my help to sort things out and to settle delicate matters they are unable to put in order on their own. I try to share my advice. Although sometimes no reply is needed. The other day I had a letter from an 18-year-old lad. It’s common knowledge that … how should I put it… “unconventional” sexual relations are quite an issue these days. That young men told me he thought he was gay. He told me he had no one to confess this or to ask for support. So he turned to Grandfather Frost as the last resort. I turned an attentive ear to him. As the first step this is quite enough. I won’t take the responsibility to judge and to say whether this young fellow is right of if he is wrong. My task is to help, and not turn my back on anyone.
- Were you a little kid once yourself, or were you born as a person well advanced in years?
Why don’t you also say then that I was wearing a beard at birth? No, such things don’t happen. I recall my younger years when I lived on the bank of a large river. Fishing became a hobby of mine back in my childhood. But the kind of fish I used to catch in the river then was quite different. You won’t come across fish like that any more…
- Your Zodiac sign is Scorpio, am I right?
As I’ve already mentioned, I was born on November 18, but I am very calm about various oriental customs and beliefs. We, northerners, have no scorpions in our land.
- But roosters are in abundance in Russia. Next year, 2017 is Fire Rooster Year. Sounds frightening. What if this creature turns out aggressive enough to give a painful peck when you least expect it?
I wouldn’t be afraid of it at all. It’s not the threats that we should keep in mind, but the opportunities.
The way I see it, the rooster is the bird that is the first to hail the rising sun. Russia is a vast country. While Europe is still fast asleep, the Far East is toiling away already. Ours are early dawns. I’m certain that the coming 2017 will certainly bring good news. I’m not going to anticipate things, to predict the ruble’s exchange rate against the dollar, or, say the price of a barrel of crude. But I’m pretty certain, though, that there will be a New Year! You have my word for it.
- And do you remember 1917?
I most certainly do. I won’t say anything good about those days. In Veliki Ustyug there was a large Bavaria distillery, built back in the 19th century by the Germans. When the 1917 turmoil began, the distillery was attacked and pillaged. It was looted and all that could not be consumed on site or carried away was set on fire. The warehouses were ablaze for two days. Some crucial manufacturing facilities and equipment remained, though. Vodka and liquors continue to be produced locally today. And the northern niello (silver blackening) technique has been preserved. A very rare handicraft it is. Such items look really beautiful. To my regret, many other know-hows and secrets have been lost. In 2001 the last craftsman who knew the secret of tinplate frosting (creating exquisite ornaments on sheets of iron very much like those I sometimes draw on the windows) passed away in 2001. Thin tin-plates were processed with a special chemical formula with the net effect of ornaments of various colors – golden, silvery, malachite-green or pearly – developing on the surface… The plates were then used to cover a great variety of boxes and caskets of various shapes and sizes.
That craftsman died without sharing his art and skill with any disciples. He did that on purpose. He was a hardline Communist and found it impossible to reconcile himself with the new authorities. So he took the secret with him into his grave. But the course of life cannot be stopped. I know some people at some workshops in Veliki Ustyug who are experimenting with various chemical compositions, hoping to come up with a solution in the end. And some will surely succeed sooner or later. Mother nature abhors a vacuum.
- Can you draw any parallels between 1917 and 2017, two years that are a whole century apart? Do you see anything in common?
Very few things are similar, my friend. Very few. Everything is different today. Polarization of opinions in society is the same, though. And I find this worrisome. Onward movement requires consensus, while people today are split between the two camps. They are reluctant to hear the other’s point of view. But there are many more colors apart from black and white. An endless variety of shades! Be more attentive to others, don’t put pressures on those who may voice opinions different from that of the majority. It will be very wrong to go to extremes and enter an all-out confrontation with the opponents. Nothing good will come of it. Do believe me. I saw a great deal of that over centuries. God forbid we should ever see a rerun…
Sports stadiums are a far better place to compete. There one can easily let off steam. I recall the day when I was at the ceremony of turning on the lights on Russia’s first New Year Tree. I kept looking at the clock all the time, impatient to get to a TV set. Russia’s ice hockey squad was playing the Czech Republic. “Come on, come on, come on!” I was saying to myself. Finally it was all over and I rushed home. Russia lost. At first I felt very disappointed. Then I told myself: “Never mind. Better luck next time.” There’s something enchanting about sports, provided you do not step over a certain line. It is very good to see fans support their team from the stands, but it is very bad when they try to settle scores with other fans outside the stadium. Last summer’s violence by some hooligans during the European Football Cup in France was a great shame and disgrace. Shop windows were smashed, passers-by insulted and abused, and many other outrages committed… Those responsible for such things must be strictly punished. And doping abuse must be firmly fought against. Only a victory that has been attained in a fair competition is the real one.
- And lastly, if we are fortunate enough to grab the 2018 World Football Cup, will you have you beard shaved off?
What is it that you want more: to see us win or to see my beard shaved off? I fear that children will stop recognizing me, should I lose my beard. Let’s make a deal: may our footballers win. And then I’ll trim my beard to make it shorter. I have it cut according to fashion every summer anyway.
- And what wish will you make when the chimes strike twelve?
I wish all people to be happy. This makes my own life worth living.
Over so many centuries I have arrived at this very simple conclusion. You cannot feel completely happy while knowing somebody is unhappy near you. We can be happy only if we are together…
Have a very Happy New Year!