The Russian Matryoshka Doll.

I had always been intrigued by the story behind the Russian Matryoshka dolls: Somehow, somewhere, someone once told me that Matryoshkas had always stood for the heroism and sacrifice of the Russian women during war time, as they stood at the forefront on army expeditions, sacrificing their bodies by stepping onto minefields before the soldiers, so that the latter go forth safely. Well, I reached Russia myself only to realize that such folk only existed in my head as some kind of false childhood memory or misconception…but still, the story of Matryoshka dolls is very interesting! The pear-shaped female figure always in her traditional headscarf and apron that carries depictions of folk flowers, has been standing as a symbol of Russia, very much associated with the Russian folk traditions. Those nesting dolls might consist of three to twelve pieces; each doll comes apart into two pieces to reveal a smaller one nesting inside which will in turn reveal another smaller one and so forth.

Surprisingly enough, Matryoshkas (often confused with babushkas which means grandmas) were not born in Russia; they first appeared in Japan instead, as nesting dolls that represented gods or mythological creatures. It is said that Matryoshkas were brought to Russia by a wealthy Russian – patron of arts – who invited his artists and craftsmen in Moscow to reproduce the nesting dolls in the figure of a Russian girl in the 1890s. The first creators were Vasily Zvyozdochkin and Sergey Malyutin. The wooden figure was named Matryoshka or Matryona – a very popular female name at that time, derived from the Latin mater which means matrix or mother. Of course the name speaks for itself; Matryoshkas soon came to symbolically stand for motherhood, fertility, infinity.

Years went by and Matryoshkas rose in popularity making a very famous gift by the locals as well as a souvenir to the visitors. Today, craftmanship and imagination are such that one cannot help but notice the immense variation in colors and representations – with some nesting dolls representing historical and literary figures, celebrities and politicians, often intended to satirize and criticize. I chose my own as well; one of those old-fashioned, red-and-yellow less elaborate ones. And now it’s time for a world record: The largest Matryoshka set of dolls consists of 51 pieces and was made by Yioulia Bereznitskaia in 2003!

The Russians are difficult…too difficult at times: smiles are hard to find, people are not very responsive, a “no” comes easier than a “yes”. My lonely planet would say that you wouldn’t expect such gaiety from a people who live under such weather conditions, usually far from the sea. Others (including myself) would claim that “cultural gaps” are there to remind us that no matter how globalization is struggling to expand (which of course is not always a good thing in itself), there is still no global “smile etiquette”. On the other hand, everyone here has a latest technology smartphone, everyone’s absorbed in it in the metro, almost everyone seems to follow suit all new trends and technologies. In this sense I find no excuse for a people who refuses to learn (a foreign language) or communicate… but again… here comes the propaganda that has probably cultivated a rather hostile feeling towards any kind of “otherness”. At the end of the day I prefer to stay with my respect about a people who has anyway produced magnificent literature and music, and continues in its own way to culturally contribute to the global community, in a time when cultural identities keep alienating themselves or even perishing.