One of the examples of the Russian brilliance is the Dacha. Most people have them, they're summer cottages outside the city, in the woods meant to leave your troubles behind, even if only for the weekend. And not just one weekend here and there. We're talking every weekend that the weather will allow, these people are out. It's genius.
From what I've seen, not all these dachas are in the greatest shape. Some that we passed by looked like they were on nudge away from toppling over. Others seemed to be randomly shaped pieces of plywood held together with twine and prayers. We were lucky enough to have a Dacha experience while we were in Siberia. One of Hubs' co-worker's family had a Dacha a few miles out of town, and off we went!
The Dacha that he had was beautiful, right on the river and complete with a banya. Food is of primary importance to a good Dacha weekend, second only to vodka and we were well taken care of in both categories. When we walked up, while preparations were being made to the shashlik (grilled meat). This meat had been marinated for a full day then cooked over hot coals and wood chips. So delicious. We learned all the tricks. You eat the shashlik then chew on some fresh dill to really bring out the flavor. Vodka. More meat. More fresh dill. More vodka. Repeat. Throw in fresh fruit like wild blueberries straight from the vine. Vodka.
The men had some banya time, which was followed by a dip in the icy cold river just a few feet away. Seriously, it doesn't get much more Russian than this. I didn't get to participate in the banya part. I didn't bring a bathing suit (lesson learned...) and wasn't about to join the menfolk in my birthday suit, so I sat it out.
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