But the visible life outside the old homes only temporarily masks the decline occurring in this community. The village of Petrovka, the last Russian outpost of the pacifist religious group, the Doukabors, is disappearing. With 350 residents (less than half of them Doukhobors), no telephone service and a bus that connects to the outside world only once a week, Petrovka is rapidly losing its young people, and with them, the Doukhobor future.

"The really sad thing is that their culture is disappearing," said Lyudmilla Nikitin a local government administrator. "Most children and grandchildren don't follow the religion, and these people are getting older and gradually forgetting things."

A religious group founded on anti-war beliefs, the Doukhobors have been persecuted and exiled throughout their history for their dissenting ideals and practices. In addition to their opposition to war, the Doukhobors also reject man-made ceremony within the church. Their name means "icon fighter."

Sent to the Caucasus mountains in 1841 from northern Russia, the Doukhobors resisted conscription and in 1895 resorted to burning a pile of guns in their refusal to fight in the Tsar's army against the Turks. Harsh repercussions caused the groups to seek aid for relocation and in 1921, the community split. Some went to Canada, a trip funded by Leo Tolstoy who had become sympathetic to Doukhobor ideals and their plight. The rest came to the wild steppe country outside the city of Rostov-on-Don and founded Petrovka.

On a recent weekday, six middle-aged and elderly Douhobor women gathered in a traditional house they maintain as a simple museum to share their beliefs with curious visitors. Dressed in long, hand-woven skirts embroidered with bright flowers and decorated with lace bands, the women sat against the wall on a hard wooden bench. Each wore a white lace scarf on her head, tied at the chin. They took turns singing traditional songs, their voices earnest and open as their harmonies echoed off the walls of the small room.

"We have always lived in a close community, even before communist times." said Lyudmilla Balsova, the informal leader of the group. "If one person had three dresses and another had only one, the first would give one to the other."

Five of the six women have lived in the village since birth. The sixth, called a "newcomer" by the others married a Petrovka man and moved here 40 years ago.

"Doukhobors speak to God directly," said Lyudmilla Dora. "We have no priests. Here every person says his own prayer."

The women took turns saying their individual prayers aloud and concluded their service with a song of the Ten Commandments. While they sang, each shook hands, bowed and kissed the others in a choreographed pattern. Then they all bowed and touched the floor three times - the first a prayer for King David, the second for all who have died in wars and the third for all the Christians in the world.

Sunday prayer meetings in Petrovka usually draw about 12 people, and the average age is between 65 and 70, the women said.

"Many people have left to find better living conditions, so we are mostly retired people here," said Balsova. "We are the last generation of Doukhobors"

In the past, the Doukhobor community drew their livelihoods from the local collective farm. Under communism, the workers at the farm were guaranteed a year-round salary, basic healthcare and childcare. Throughout the 1970s and 1980s, machines slowly replaced many of the workers, but the final blow to the region's economics came with privatization of the land in the early 1990s. Now, say the locals, the proprietors of the farm hire only seasonal labor and anyone seeking stable work must look elsewhere. Only pensioners are able to remain in Petrovka, and their children and grandchildren are living their lives outside the close-knit Doukhobor community.

"Our people are becoming closer with regular people everyday," said Balsova. "More and more we are melting into mainstream culture."

Nikitin, the local administrator, said that there is a local movement to preserve the culture and traditions of the Doukhobors before it's too late. She said the government recently purchased a tape player to record the songs and prayers of the women, and that they are trying to raise money to maintain the museum. The aging community also works to keep ties with their relatives, the Doukhobors of Canada.

"As with many things in Russia, it's only when something is disappearing that you start to appreciate it," said Nikitin. "We are trying not to repeat this mistake."