The 8th of March nostalgia

Ah... The 8th of March. The International Women's day...
I remember this holiday ever since I was a little girl. In Russia, it was a real holiday - day off and everything - and it was somewhat similar to American Valentine's day. The only difference was that it wasn't about sweethearts, it was ALL about us chicks! Husbands and boyfriends dutifully brought flowers to their chosen ones. Children gave their mothers clumsily made greeting cards they spent hours laboring over while holding their breaths and awkwardly wielding crayons or color pens. And mothers were appropriately ferklempt. Heck, the 8th of March served as a Russian (or should I say Soviet? Or maybe even Socialist?) Mother's day as well! It was one day a year when all women felt special even the little ones. When socialist women of the past early in the last century created the day for all women to stand for their rights, I'm sure they didn't mean for it to become just a Spring day to celebrate womanhood with no political agenda attached. I'd say Soviet Russia was kind of skimpy on holidays for its people and the majority of the holidays that we did have had some sort of connection to the Revolution, Communism, Labor or some other such nonsense. So, despite the political origins of the 8th of March, it evolved into a day of "thou shalt love your woman on this day and bring her flowers and other gifts or thou shalt be in huge poo-poo trouble!". At least, I think that was the official motto of the day.

I remember celebrating the holiday as early as elementary school era. The tradition was for the boys in class to give gifts to the girls for the 8th of March. Some time beforehand, the boys would decide on a modest but oh, so thoughtful gift, and collect the money. Considering the kind of gifts we received, I'd say the time "beforehand" ranged from, say, 48 to 24 hours prior to the date. The gift was the same for every girl. The male population in our class had always such serious dignified expressions on their little freckled faces when they were presenting us with those gifts. It was quite proper an affair, I'll have you know!
The one common thread in all those gifts I received (together with my classmates of female persuasion) was that they were completely and utterly useless! :) But it was fun anyway. The first such gift I recall was a tea cup and a saucer of unremarkable design and quality. We were in third grade then, and it was probably some parent's idea of a "lovely/girly" gift. Then, for a few years we were getting inflatable toys (memory is conjuring up a crocodile, a doll and a Cipollino - the main character from an insanely popular in Russia at the time Italian fairy tale by Gianni Rodari, where all characters were fruits and vegetables. Cipollino happens to mean "little onion" which is exactly what he was.) Now, the inflatable toys proved to be most fun as someone came up with an ingenious idea to sign those toys like one would sign a cast or a year book here in the US. I wish I'd saved at least one of those vinyl treasures. I'm sure it would have made a fine fine memento of golden childhood days.

Forward to 10th grade. By then I had transferred to a specialized high school that had a strengthened focus on physics and mechanics. Due to such a technical profile, the girl to boy ratio was in favor of boys, as we had about 20 guys and only 8 girls in our class (which really sucked when it came to giving boys their "very thoughtful and significant" gifts for the 23rd of February, the Soviet Army Day, but that's a whole other story). Such a ratio provided for a much larger budget (or at least we hoped it did), and our gift for that year was a hideously purple lipstick! The only redeeming quality the lipstick had was its berry-like smell and taste. To be grateful and polite, though, I honestly tried to wear that lipstick (at least for some time). I just hope nobody who saw me in that getup was scarred for life.

Ahh.., the 8th of March... Such lovely memories. It may not have been perfect or deeply meaningful, but it was a nice holiday to have growing up. It signified Spring and Love and tenderness and made people mellow out and concentrate on the warmth they had in their lives. Poor Clara Zetkin wouldn't have been proud!

H