Setting: A cozy Moscow apartment kitchen. The kettle is whistling, snow is lightly falling outside the window. Irina, a schoolteacher and strong believer in Russian folk traditions, pours tea for Dasha, her longtime friend and a biology PhD student at Moscow State University.
Irina: (handing over a mug) Here you go—black tea with raspberry jam. Just like babushka used to make.
Dasha: Perfect. I needed this. I had to explain mitosis to 18-year-olds today who thought cells have feelings. (sips) Mmm, delicious.
Irina: Speaking of feelings… did you see Lena’s post on Instagram? She showed her newborn son—he’s only a week old! Can you believe that?
Dasha: Yeah, he’s adorable. Like a tiny, sleepy loaf of bread.
Irina: Dasha! She hasn’t even baptized him yet. Posting his photo online for all to see? That’s asking for trouble. The evil eye is real, you know.
Dasha: Oh, Irina. Not this again. I promise you—no one’s zapping her baby through Instagram. Science has entered the chat.
Irina: Pff. Science doesn’t explain everything. You weren’t there when my cousin Vika showed her baby to a neighbor before baptism. The next day, boom—fever, colic, non-stop crying. The doctors said “normal,” but we all knew. The neighbor has a shifty aura.
Dasha: An “aura”? Vika’s baby probably just caught a virus. That’s what newborns do: they cry, they poop, they get colds. It’s biology, not Baba Yaga.
Irina: I’m not saying Baba Yaga’s behind it. But these traditions are old for a reason. They’re protective. In our village, no one would dare show a baby to strangers early on. There’s a wisdom in that.
Dasha: I agree it’s about protection. But nowadays, we have vaccines and hand sanitizer. Look—if someone’s afraid of germs, I get it. But blaming misfortune on someone’s glance? That’s just confirmation bias.
Irina: Confirmation what?
Dasha: Confirmation bias. It means we notice the times something “bad” happens after we break a rule, and we ignore all the times nothing happens. Like: Lena showed her baby, and he’s fine, right?
Irina: So far.
Dasha: Come on. Then what about Natasha’s daughter? She kept her hidden like a Fabergé egg for two months. Still got a rash. Probably from her own blanket.
Irina: Okay, but at least she tried to protect her. It’s about respect for tradition. Our grandmothers knew things we’ve forgotten.
Dasha: Or they were trying to explain the world without science. If a baby got sick back then, they didn’t know about viruses or bacteria, so they blamed “the evil eye.” It made sense in 1705.
Irina: Maybe. But you can’t deny—some people have bad energy. My Aunt Zoya, for instance. Plants die when she visits.
Dasha: So does my basil, and I’m the only one touching it. Not everything is mystical. Some things are just… bad watering schedules.
Irina: laughing You’re so stubborn. I’m surprised you haven’t dissected a superstition yet under a microscope.
Dasha: I tried, actually. Held up a mirror at midnight under a full moon. All I saw was myself with a pimple.
Irina: laughs Alright, fine. But don’t be surprised if one day you have a kid and I make you hang garlic near the crib.
Dasha: Deal. But I’m putting a microscope next to it, so we both feel safe.
Irina: raising her teacup To babies, logic, and a little bit of superstition—just in case.
Dasha: clinks And to lifelong debates over jam and tea.
Science Vs Superstition 
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