COLONIA RUSA: Vestiges of Russia fade in Baja village

Click to ENLARGEBy Karen Kenyon (free-lance writer)  — The San Diego Union —  July 7, 1988 — Map and 5 photos.

Interview with Therese Muranaka about her research of the Russian Colony in Mexico and museum exhibit. Dr. Muranaka  is now Research Associate, Department of Anthropology, University of San Diego, and an associate state archaeologist for California State Parks' San Diego Coast District, Old Town San Diego.
COLONIA RUSA, Baja California — In this tiny village, 18 miles northeast of Ensenada, Therese Adams Muranaka can see Mother Russia.

The old country is seen in the barns, whose thatched roofs are steeply pitched to keep off the Russian snow.

And in the sauna [bania] that survives within one of the 30 remaining Russian cottages.

And in the village cemetery, whose tombstones are inscribed with Cyrillic and Roman letters, the names spelling out the merger of cultures: Juan Samarin, Pedro Filatoff, Pedro Samaduroff Pavloff.

"These people were an important part of the history of this area," said Muranaka, 37, an archaeologist, "and we want to tell their story."

The history of the [Jumpers] Molokans, a Russian sect that fled to Mexico to escape religious persecution, is part of the Museum of Man's "Saddles and Samovars: Diverse Cultures of Baja California," on display through March 26, 1989.

The exhibit covers a variety of Baja settlements. The section on Colonia Rusa includes historical photos, a video of a traditional [Jumper] Molokan wedding, a recording of [Jumper] Molokan hymns, a wedding dress, lace cloths, and other memorabilia gathered by Muranaka.

From four sites near the cottages, she uncovered 4,000 artifacts — buttons, lotion jars, a child's metal truck, pottery, teacups, thin tea glasses.

"The relation of the object helps tell the story of how the Russian culture was maintained, and the pattern of gradual blending with the Mexican culture," said Muranaka. "A piece of earth-tone Mexican pottery next to a fragile piece of Russian china shows the way Mexican items gradually became part of the [Jumper] Molokan household."

But time is running out for the [Jumper] Molokans. Where 500 Russians once farmed wheat and raised geese, only seven Russian households remain — 14 people, ages 15 to 100, among a population of 2,000. Children with brown skin and blue eyes run and play, calling out to each other in Spanish.

The Molokans — the word means "milk drinker" in Russian — came from the Milky River region of [Ukraine] Russia.* Pacifists whose churches are simple buildings without statues or decorations, the Molokans split with the Russian Orthodox Church in the 18th century.
[* Sectarians lived all over Russia, but most who migrated to North America were from the western Caucasus — old governates of Kars, Erevan, Tflis, Elizavetpol'; now east Turkey, Armenia, west Georgia, and west Azerbaijan.]

Presecuted by the czar's police, the sect was encouraged by [exodus of Doukhobors and regional wars] Leo Tolstoy to come to America. In the early 1900s, [~3,000] 10,000 [Jumpers and] Molokans came to the United States, many of them settling in Los Angeles. But the [Jumpers] Molokans found it difficult to maintain their communal lifestyle there. In 1905, 105 [Jumper] Molokan families purchased the land in Guadalupe Valley for $50,000. [A few Orthodox Cossak familes joined them.]

They built cottages side by side along a single street — the backs of the houses to the road, as in pre-revolutionary Russia. Outlying plots of land were farmed in common.

Skilled farmers, the Russians soon produced 90 percent of all the wheat in Baja. Later, the settlers switched to grapes and continued their centuries-old custom of keeping bees and geese.

During the week, the colonists wore simple work clothes — the women wore long dresses and scarves, the men, overalls. On Sundays, holidays and at weddings, the women wore delicate lace shawls called kosinkas [triangles], while the men dressed in Cossack-style shirts and boots with belts and braids.

Every family member used a samovar for tea, Muranaka said, and most had saunas in their homes.

Over the years, second and third generation Russians moved away or intermarried. In 1937, Mexican peasants descended on the village and took 7,500 acres. President Lazaro Cardenas visited the colony and assured the Molokans the village would not be broken up, but many sold their lots.

Today, Colonia Rusa is deteriorating.

"Now the thatched roofs are replaced by tin," said Muranaka, "and though some cottages are still white, others are painted pink, green or turquoise — whatever color is available."


 Of the remaining Russians, she said, "You can tell the depression is there. You don't see the pride anymore."

With her English-Irish roots and Japanese surname, Muranaka may seem an unlikely expert on a Russian-Mexican village. In fact, Therese Adams studied in Romania on a Fulbright scholarship. Embarking on her Ph.D dissertation at the University of Arizona, she was determined to continue studying Slavic cultures while living in the Southwest.

In San Diego's Old Town one summer, she had two fateful encounters. She met her husband-to-be, Jason Muranaka, and she met Elena T. Orozco, an older woman who had traveled through Colonia Rusa as a young child.

Orozco's tales captivated the archaeologist. "It was fascinating to me," Muranaka said, "out there in the middle of nowhere. I had seen the poor shacks in Mexico, and here were these beautiful white-washed cottages."

Two-and-one-half years ago, Muranaka began her dig. Eight months pregnant, she was helped by a diverse cast of characters — her husband, a U.S. Postal Service employee; a private detective; a former priest; a park ranger; an antique dealer; biologists; and assorted archaeologists.

According to Muranaka, the dig is building bonds of goodwill between the Mexican government and U.S. scientists. The items displayed at the Museum of Man will be returned to Mexico.

"Most Americans come down, take what they want," said David Zarate-Loperena, an anthropologist with the Association of Cultural Affairs in Ensenada. "It's not that much — but they take it all to the States. But Therese came in the proper way — asked for all the right permits. ...

"Baja hasn't many archaeologists, anthropologists and historians. We are interested in joint ventures with French and American scientists  — and other serious scholars. We want to help in the proper way."

The Colonia Rusa artifacts, said Zarate-Loperena, will eventually be housed in Ensenada's old jailhouse, which is to become a museum. [The state museum moved to a house donated by Rogoff on the west end of town. By 2000, three Russian museums and a restaurant compete for tourists.]

Dr. H. Leland Fetzer, a San Diego State University professor who teaches classes on Russian civilization, said the excavation may have been approved in part because the artifacts are from the 20th century, and are not antiquities.

Still, getting permits is difficult. Muranaka's work "is a triumph of persistence and hard work," Fetzer said.

"Therese's work in the village is significant. She is fixing in time that colony which is disappearing. She is preserving for history and creating a written record of the only available evidence of that group."

Even the existing [Jumpers] Molokans are dispersing. On a recent Sunday, Andre Samaduroff rode his bicycle to Colonia Rusa's cemetery. A red- haired fourth generation [Jumper] Molokan, Samaduroff cares for the grounds — at the request of his uncles. Surrounded by the graves of his ancestors, he spoke in Spanish of his hopes to go to Tijuana in the fall to study.

Samaduroff's family is among the few Rusos puros, or pure Russians, left in the village. Some of his older brothers and sisters have already left home. His younger sister, Sonya, 15, is the youngest Russian in the village.

Down the wide dirt road, Dunya Babishoff, the oldest member of the village, sat at her kitchen table while sacred Molokan music played on a small tape recorder. She is known as viejita, the little old one. No one knows her exact age, though she is believed to be 100. Her back is bent and she shuffles painfully when she walks. Born in Russia, she responds to Russian and Spanish, though she does not speak.

Judy Dolbee, an Encinitas resident who is descended from [Jumpers] Molokans, recently visited the village after meeting Muranaka.

"When I saw Dunya," said Dolbee, "she walked out, all stooped over, and then she looked up at me. She had the same eyes that my father has."


A limited edition booklet was published for the Russian exhibit: Spirit Jumpers: The Russian Molokans of Baja California, by Therese Adams Muranaka, San Diego Museum of Man, Ethnic Technology Notes No. 21, 1988.