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🇷🇺As soon as the snow melts, Russians begin their annual migration — not south, but to their dachas. Spring marks the unofficial start of dacha season, when city folk transform into part-time farmers, engineers, and grill masters.

The dacha isn’t just a summer house — it’s a full-blown institution. The tradition dates back to Tsarist times, when the nobility received country estates as gifts (“dacha” comes from “dat”, meaning “to give”). But it truly took root during the Soviet era, especially in the 1950s–80s, when urban families were granted small plots outside cities to grow food and escape the city life. Dachas also helped many Russian families survive in the 1990s, when many were out of jobs and money was scarce - people would eat what they were able to grow, and sell or trade the surplus for other things they needed.

Most dachas are located within an hour or two of major cities, scattered across old collective garden cooperatives or nestled along railway lines in what’s jokingly called the “electrichka belt” — the commuter train zone. They range from modest garden sheds to fully winterized homes with all the comforts.

Here, the rituals run deep: planting potatoes in May, weeding in June, and pickling absolutely everything by August. Weekends are filled with tending to the garden, firing up the mangal for shashlik, heating the banya, and trading harvest gossip with neighbors over tea or something stronger. Some plots still have no plumbing, but they do have soul (and often, a very determined babushka guarding the tomato beds).

For many people dacha isn't so much a necessity anymore but a hobby and a source of many happy memories. It's still common for kids to spend a lot of time there with their grandparents in the summer, and for families to gather there often on weekends. Even today, in the age of online shopping and food delivery, the dacha remains a sacred slice of Russian life.

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