The Threshold of Doom: A Foreigners Guide to Russian Superstitions

…throw your glasses at the wall, fame and fortune to us all!

When the snow starts to melt and the days grow longer, a strange purple glow begins to appear in the windows of Russian apartments and homes. It’s as though someone has taken the Wildberries logo and cranked the saturation to max in Photoshop and left it to bleed across the curtains.

This, my friends, is not a babushka rave party. It's the seedling season.

It’s the time of year when Russians, fully aware it’s still too bloody cold to plant anything outdoors, begin to coax life from the earth anyway. It’s the time of year when flowers, herbs, and vegetables are bathed in LED UV lights while perched on window sills.

Last Saturday, my wife and I braved the slushy, buhanka-swallowing mud roads of our village to have dinner with our neighbours. Boots caked in dirt, the village cat meowing after us like he was starving (he’s not), we arrived at the front door.

Naturally, my wife wasted no time showing off her own seedlings. Proud little bursts of green life she has been lovingly raising indoors under UV light. Our lady neighbour was thrilled to see them. They really are impressive little baby plants, and much better than my own attempts at growing food in Australia.

I once spent weeks trying to grow zucchini only for a wallaby to crash through the fence and stomp the entire patch to death. Why? I guess it just wanted to see the world burn or something. Little shit.

Anyway… as the seedling admiration was wrapping up, our neighbour's husband leaned in with a stern warning.

“Don’t show these pictures to other women in the village.”

Why?

“They might curse your plants out of jealousy”.

He wasn’t joking. He was dead serious.

So it got me thinking. How can one of the most scientifically capable, spacefaring nations on Earth be so absurdly superstitious?

I mean, I’m from Australia. The most we worry about in terms of omens is running out of beer before a cyclone hits.

We don’t bless our doors and worry about becoming infertile by sitting on a cold rock. We certainly don’t curse each other’s seedlings. In fact, Australians barely blink when a black cat crosses their path. Unless of course it’s being chased by a croc, in which case fair enough.

But in Russia, it’s an absolute minefield. A spiritual obstacle course. And I’ve found myself having to keep a sort of ever-growing mental cheat sheet of what not to do or say.

So, in the interest of preserving your dignity (and maybe your soul), I’ve put together a little something to help you navigate this mystical madness.

Spitting, Vodka, and Urinating on Bus Tyres. How Not to Doom Yourself in Russia

When I first arrived in Russia, I’m pretty certain I broke a superstition on a daily basis. Not on purpose, just merely by existing. This is because there are literally hundreds of these rules. Some are grounded in common sense, some are wildly specific, and others are… Well, let’s just say questionable at best.

And as a foreigner, there’s no manual.

Australians, generally speaking, aren’t really superstitious creatures. The few “rules” we have are either borrowed from other cultures or pulled from Indigenous lore. We’ve got the stock-standard stuff like breaking a mirror and you’re in for seven years of bad luck. Walk under a ladder, and invite misfortune. Don’t open an umbrella inside.

Yawn.

There are the odd Aussie specials:

• Greet every magpie with a friendly “g’day mate” in the hope it doesn’t swoop and tear your scalp off (it will).

• Don’t wander into a swamp at night or the Bunyip will get you (valid).

• Never kill a spider indoors, because it brings bad luck. That is all well and good until a huntsman the size of your palm drops on your face at 3 am and you break the sound barrier trying to escape your own bedroom.

But Russia? Russia takes superstition to a cosmic level.

Friends? Definitely believers.

Babushkas? Absolutely fanatical.

But the most superstitious Russians of all?

Cosmonauts.

(Told you they take it to a cosmic level).

Before every mission, Russian cosmonauts take part in a bizarre but completely mandatory ritual: On the way to the launch pad at the Baikonur Cosmodrome, they pull over the bus and pee on the back tyre.

Why?

Because the first man in space, Yuri Gagarin, did it in 1961. He realised he needed to relieve himself on the way to the rocket, and now, every cosmonaut since has followed suit.

But hold up, it doesn’t stop there. There’s a while launch-day ritual checklist:

• Watch the classic Soviet film White Sun of the Desert.

• Place flowers at the grave of Sergei Korolev (founder of the Soviet space program).

• Be blessed by an Orthodox priest (even the atheists go along with it).

• Sign your door before leaving quarantine.

• And, yes, pee on the bus tyre. Apparently, it only counts if it’s the left rear one.

Honestly, if it were up to a Western committee, they’d probably replace the whole process with a Starbucks and a hashtag.

But here in Russia, tradition matters. And that’s what these superstitions really are.

Break one, and at best you might get a quiet dressing down. At worst, you’ll be facing down an angry Babushka, and if you value your life, that’s not a battle you want (or will win).

To their credit, though, there’s often an immediate fix. You drop your keys on the table? Spit over your shoulder. Whistle indoors? Apologise to your wallet, rub the window sill, and cross yourself just to be safe. It differs from region to region. Finally, add it to your ever-growing internal list of cursed behaviours.

I’ll admit, I used to scoff at all this. I was tempted to go full Thunderf00t and deliver a scathing lecture on these relics of a pre-modern mindset. But over time, I’ve come to realise that as foreigners, it’s not our place to “debunk” these traditions.

We should be respecting them.

Because like everything in this beautiful, strange, spiritual country, they aren’t just habits. They’re reflections of a deeper culture, a connection to the past, and a way of life rooted in ritual, reverence, and meaning.

Even if it means keeping a watchful eye on where your salt goes… and if you’re lucky enough, peeing on a tyre.

The Russian Superstition Survival Field Guide

Russians are wonderfully generous when it comes to forgiving foreigners for various cultural faux pas.

Call someone “ты” instead of “вы”. They’ll largely ignore it. Mispronounce “писать” and accidentally tell someone to urinate on paper. You’ll get a giggle at worst, but no one will reach for the pitchforks.

But when it comes to superstitions. You won’t get away with it.

Don’t make the mistake of thinking these are just old wive’s tales. These are spiritual landmines, and if you step on one, expect a full-blown ritual to reverse the damage.

So, in the spirit of survival and keeping the peace with your Russian friends and in-laws, here is my personal, hard-earned list of Russian superstitions. Refer back to this to find out what you did wrong, what it meant, and what could happen if you stuff up.

Let’s begin.

1. Travel and Leaving the House

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a long list of do’s and don’ts.

Sit Before You Go

Before setting off for a long journey (not like going to Magnit for a block of cheese), everyone must sit down in silence for a brief moment. No talking, no scrolling. Just sit. Reflect.

Failing to observe this could cause you to miss your train, or trigger a catastrophic mechanical failure.

Forgot something? Don’t Just March Back Inside

So, you’ve left the house and realised you forgot your passport. Naturally, you panic and spring back inside.

Stop. You have already cursed the journey by turning around. Now you must trick fate into forgetting you did.

When you leave for the second time, turn and face a mirror. Smile, tug at a button, or poke out your tongue. Do all three, like a spiritual alt-ctrl-del to be safe.

No Goodbyes On The Threshold

This one is quite sacred, so pay attention. Never shake hands or say goodbye across a threshold. This can be a doorway, state border, window etc. Doing so invites arguments, and bad luck into the home.

All farewells should be conducted inside. I feel like winter probably inspired this one.

Don’t Look Back

Once you have left the house, do not look back. Not at the door, not at the cat sitting cutely on the window sill, especially not back at family members.

Looking back is seen as a bad omen, suggesting hesitation or emotional attachment to what is being left behind.

2. At Home and Alters of Domestic Doom

In Russia, your home is rife with risk.

Don’t Whistle Indoors

Love to whistle in time with the kettle? Stop it. Immediately. Whistling indoors will blow your wealth right out the window. If you feel the urge to whistle the Wind of Change, take it outside and clutch your wallet to beg for forgiveness.

Don’t Sit At The Corner Of The Table

If your love life is already circling the drain, don’t tempt fate by sitting at the corner of the table. This superstition says if you plonk yourself down on a corner, you’ll never marry.

Traditionally aimed at women, but plenty of Russians will warn anyone of courting age.

Play it safe, sit in the middle.

No Keys Or Wallets On The Table

The table is for food, not for fortune destruction. Placing your personal items where the borscht is meant to go invites bad luck and a stern lecture from your guests.

Knife Etiquette For The Soul

Never hand someone a knife directly. Always place it on the table for them to pick up (handle first, obviously). Hand it over, and you might as well hand over years of fighting and resentment too.

And whatever you do, don’t lick the knife, not only is the risk of severe tongue laceration present, it means you’re secretly a cruel person.

Spilling Salt? War it is.

If you knock over the salt, expect arguments. Possibly a full-blown domestic meltdown. Luckily there is hope if you do.

Quickly throw a pinch over your left shoulder and you’ll confuse the demons just long enough to keep the peace while they count the grains on the floor.

Do Not Crack Eggs On The Table

So, you’re making breakfast. You go to crack an egg on the countertop. Congratulations. You have just summoned bad luck.

Eggs must not be cracked on the table or benchtop. Instead, choose something weird: your knee, the sink, a frying pan? Maybe your own forehead. Literally anything else.

Eggs, apparently, are spiritually sensitive.

Wearing a Shirt Inside Out? Start Saying Your Prayers

Realise your shirt’s on inside out? Take it off, throw it on the floor, and step on it.

Immediately.

If you don’t, you will be blamed for something terrible, or my personal favourite, you might get beaten up.

If you see someone else wearing their shirt inside out? Tell them. Because you’re then allowed to punch them.

A Bird on the Windowsill = Doom

In Australia, a bird on the windowsill is there to steal your sausage. In Russia, it’s the mark of impending doom.

If a bird lands on your windowsill and taps the glass, it’s not cute. No. It’s the harbinger of death, disease, or even the loss of a limb. You have a duty to protect the house, chase that little chirpy bastard away.

Don’t take the Rubbish Out at Night

It’s dark. Your bin smells like a landfill. You’re about to take out the trash.

Don’t.

Taking rubbish out after sundown is inviting ruin into the home. Evil spirits could be out for a midnight stroll, and they may use your leftovers to perform unspeakable rituals.

Yes, even spoiled nappies, even yesterday’s stinky fish. It can wait until dawn.

No one ever said dark magic was glamorous.

3. Vodka, the Drink of a Thousand Uses Curses

Vodka is serious business. Commit your task to memory, and do your job.

The Bottle Goes on the Floor

Once a bottle of vodka is finished, it must be placed on the floor.

Not the table. Not on a shelf. The floor. Only the floor.

Failing to do so brings bad luck. Worse still, you might get stink-eyed by guests powerful enough to kill houseplants with a glance.

Do Not Sip the Vodka

When it’s time to drink, you drink the whole damn thing “До дна!” (To the bottom!).

No sipping. No Pausing. No pretending to cough halfway through.

With beer and wine, it's fine to pace yourself. Vodka is one and done. No exceptions.

Pro tip: You can request a half-pour. No one will judge you.

Raise the Glass? Don’t Put it Down.

Once your glass is raised for a toast, it cannot touch the table again until the toast is complete.

And yeah, some toasts go for a long time.

I’ve personally survived this by balancing the glass on my finger with my hand resting on the table. It works.

The First And Second Shots Must Be Made In Quick Succession

There’s even a saying for this:

“Между первой и второй — промежуток небольшой” (Between the first and second, there should be little time.)

And if you want to go full poetic:
“Между первой и второй — пуля не должна пролететь” (Between the first and second, not even a bullet should fly.)

Yes, they’re that serious about the follow-up shot.

Take your second before the vodka gods notice.

Rapid-Fire Rules (Memorise These or Perish, Comrade):

• Don’t pour vodka with your hand under the bottle. Bad luck will flow with it.

• Never toast with an empty glass. You might as well toast with a curse.

• Leaving the gathering? One last shot for the road, “на посошок.”

• Showed up late? You owe the table a penalty shot. No exceptions.

• Don’t pour when someone’s glass is lifted. Wait for it to rest, otherwise you will become an alcoholic (seriously).

• All shots must be clinked together before drinking. No silent sipping.

• Don’t clink glasses in memory of the dead. It’s deeply disrespectful.

• Never pour a shot for yourself. Always pour for others first.

• Don’t toast across a threshold. Yes, even here (you knew it was coming).

• NEVER say “На здоровье!” That’s a Western myth. No one says this.

• Make eye contact with the person giving the toast. If you don’t, it’s weird.

• No sneaky shots. Everyone drinks the same amount, at the same time.

• Do not refuse the first shot. Not unless you want your reputation shattered.

Yep, there’s a lot here. Yep, it’s pretty overwhelming. Trust me though, it all starts to make sense after around the third shot and some pickled mushrooms.

Remember that vodka holds a lot of special meaning for Russians. It’s almost a rite of passage for the foreigner. Get it right the first time, you’ll never toast alone again.

4. Gifts, Birthdays, and Social Sabotage

When something so thoughtful can go catastrophically wrong.

Only Give Odd Numbers Of Flowers

You’re standing in a flower shop. You’ve bravely powered through your awful Russian and finally selected six gorgeous red roses (because “красная” is the only colour word you remember).

You hand them over proudly and the florist recoils in horror like you just passed her a severed finger.

Now, why did this happen?

Because an even number of flowers are strictly for funerals.

Give someone six roses, and you might as well hand them a sympathy card and a shovel.

So say it with me now: Odd Numbers. Only. Always.

Don’t Give Sharp Objects. Or Scarves

Thinking about gifting a fancy knife set? Maybe a cool hunting knife?

Congratulations. You’ve just cursed your friendship.

Sharp objects symbolise an enemy omen, or severing the bond between two people.

To avoid back luck, the receiver must give a coin in return. That turns it into a trade or transaction rather than a soul-rending omen.

Scarves, meanwhile, are an omen of tears. No idea why. Just don’t do it. Let your girlfriend or wife buy her own scarf. You will save yourself a lecture and possibly a relationship.

Brain-Breaking Birthday Rules

Never celebrate early. Don’t even mention it before the day. You will curse the occasion, and everyone will blame you when the cake falls off the table or the dog eats the presents.

A 40th birthday should be a low-key event. No party, no fanfare, no VK event. Just a quiet dinner with family. The number 40 is associated with the 40-day ritual following a death. Those who do create a big event out of it will be cursed with misery and illness beyond the stock-standard back pain and weak knees.

Compliment? Prepare for a Shower of Spit

Say something nice like “you look lovely today” to and your average Australian woman will smil… report you to HR (ok, maybe we’re cursed too).

Say it to a Russian, and they might turn and spit three times over their left shoulder.

Don’t stress, they’re not rejecting you. It’s more of a protective ritual.

The compliment invites the “evil eye”, and the spit is aimed at the devil (who, of course, sits on the left).

Don’t Hand Over Money. Place It Down

You’re at Пятёрочка, and you’ve watched everyone else put their cash into a tray next to the cash register instead of handing it over to the cashier. But, why?

This is because money carries energy. Giving it directly from your hand to theirs could transfer your cosmic baggage. Placing it on a tray, and walking away severs the link between you and the money. This way, your crappy energy stays with you.

Better yet, just use your MIR card.

This also applies to gifts. If you’re giving money for a birthday or a wedding, it must be placed in an envelope. It then should be placed on a table, while looking away from it.

5. Personal Space and Public Peril

Better watch where you step, where you point, and what’s in your neighbour’s bucket.

Double Names, Double the Luck

Found yourself awkwardly wedged between two people named Olga? Or two Vladmirs? You better make a wish! (Only if the two people are standing on the left and right side of you).

It’s considered very good luck, and unlike wishing on a falling star like some cheesy Disney crap, this one’s actually meant to work.

Use it wisely, don’t wish for more sanctions.

Step on a Foot = Start a Feud

If you accidentally stomp on someone’s toes. Congratulations! You’ve now scheduled a biffo. This minor misstep means an argument is now inevitable unless it’s corrected immediately.

To remedy this impending scene from Fight Club, the other person must gently step on your foot in return.

Just a nice gentle tap, don’t overdo it, or you’ll get stuck in an endless loop of cosmic foot stomping.

Empty Bucket. Empty Day

See that woman hurrying toward you in the village with two empty buckets heading to the well? You best steer clear. Cross the road. Pretend to pat the neighbour’s cat. Do anything but engage with her.

Even simply passing by is a bad omen. It will mean the rest of your day is cursed with emptiness, misfortune, and probably soggy socks.

Don’t risk it, change direction like a startled cat, they’ll likely understand why you’re behaving so strangely.

Point At a Body Part? You’ll End Up in Hospital

This one is the Mount Everest of Russian superstitions. If there are any superstitions you should take from this guide, it’s this one.

If you’re talking about an injury, illness, or surgery, do NOT under any circumstances point to the part of the body involved.

Not on yourself. Not on anyone else.

Doing so is believed to pass the injury or illness to whoever is being pointed at, including yourself.

I’ve made this mistake so many times and it’s always met with quite a negative reaction. And for foreigners, it’s an easy and unconscious one to make, because it’s how we communicate injury and illness to another person.

Fix it fast by dramatically waving your hand away like you’re throwing off any trace of what you have just done.

As for how Russians describe injuries at the doctor? I have no idea, maybe they use a little chart or something? Someone in the know, please enlighten me.

Theology of the Threshold (Babushkas Know Best)

In Australia, saying goodbye at the door is a completely non-event. A quick wave, a cheerful “see ya later”, and you’re off into the sun before your thongs melt into the concrete.

So during my early visits to Russia, I couldn’t for the life of me understand why goodbyes weren’t allowed across the doorway, and why I was being herded back inside like a misbehaving sheep.

A quick Yandex search later, and I had stumbled into an entire spiritual rabbit hole of explanations. And suddenly, all those subtle scolding’s and hesitant goodbyes across the threshold made sense.

At first, I thought Russian superstitions were just quirky leftovers from a bygone era. But that view came from a very Australian lens. Australia is a deeply secular, post-colonial culture. It’s a place where Christianity is openly mocked and any trace of inherited paganism was left behind somewhere over the Pacific along with Captain Cook’s moral compass.

But here, thresholds aren’t just architecture. They’re quite sacred. So are even numbers, and knives, and whistling inside, and yes, even spitting at the devil.

These rituals didn’t come from nowhere. They are a part of something ancient. Rooted in pagan traditions and woven into Orthodox Christianity when it arrived in Kievan Rus’ over a thousand years ago.

They have been passed down through wars, famines, collapse, and rebirth by people who had to believe in something just to survive.

So, when a babushka tells you not to shake hands across the doorway, it’s not only superstition talking. It’s a lifetime of history, resilience, and reverence.

Ignore it, and you risk so much more than just bad luck. You miss out on something sacred.

And maybe that’s the greatest superstition of all:

That we foreigners think we know better.