MANILA, Philippines - During the dying days of the Cold War, the singer Sting, in an attempt to counter the West?s vilification of the ?Evil Empire? and invariably its citizens, posed a poignant question in one of his hit songs: Do Russians love their children, too?

A related question would be if Russians believed in God and practiced their faith?despite the official, and brutal, ban on religion.

Almost two decades after the fall of a supposedly atheist Soviet Union and the emergence of a new capitalist Russia, the answer is a resounding yes.

If you only have a few hours to spend outside Moscow, which, by the way, is also teeming with onion-domed churches even within the Kremlin?s walls, then a trip to the town of Sergiev Posad, 72 km northeast of the Russian capital (80 minutes or so by car depending on the horrendous Moscow traffic), is well worth it.

Thanks to its distance from Moscow, the town was saved from Napoleon and his army as they overrun the city in 1812.

Named after St. Sergei of Radonezh, a revered 14th-century monk, the industrial town of Sergiev Posad also happens to be one of several lavras or cradles of the Russian Orthodox faith.

Instead of taking orders from Rome during the medieval age, Russia?s Orthodox faithful, like most of their counterparts in Eastern Europe, swore allegiance to Constantinople. With the fall of the Byzantine Empire to the Ottoman Turks in 1453, the various Orthodox churches became independent of each other.

Vatican of the East

Dubbed by some Western European historians as the Vatican of the East, Sergiev Posad is also home to the Holy Trinity-St. Sergei monastery, a complex of 30 or so churches and buildings founded by the saint and expanded by his followers over the centuries.

Although the percentage of regular churchgoers among baptized Russians doesn?t even exceed single digits, said Irene, our inimitable tour guide, the number of devotees, especially at the Church of the Holy Trinity where the saint?s incorruptible body is enshrined, seemed to belie this fact.

Irene also reminded us to pay the monks a 100-ruble fee (R1 is equivalent to P2) if we intend to take photos of the monastery?s structures, including the churches? well-preserved interiors teeming with religious frescoes, icons and icon stands.

?Never underestimate the monks at St. Sergei,? she said with a wink. ?They?re even more strict than the KGB.?

The compound, aside from its seminary, is also home to an art school devoted to the study of religious paintings. This partly explains why a good number of icons, including that of the Blessed Virgin Mary, or what devout Catholics refer to as ?Our Mother of Perpetual Help,? seem surprisingly well-preserved despite the passage of time.

Incidentally, it wasn?t until the 18th century, rather late by Western European standards, when Russian artists began going beyond subjects other than religion, said Irene.

When the Bolsheviks seized power early in the last century, they closed down many churches all over Russia, including the Sergiev Posad complex, and turned them either into museums or communal homes.

?Countless icons and icon stands were damaged during those years,? said Irene. ?Some of them were lost forever.?

For centuries, the Holy Trinity-St. Sergei monastery was also the official residence of the Metropolitan (the Pope?s Russian Orthodox counterpart).

Since the church and the empire were forever joined at the hip, it was a must for every Russian czar and czarina to seek the Metropolitan?s blessings by going on regular pilgrimages there.

Famous structures

The monastery, including two of its most famous structures?the blue-domed Church of the Assumption and the smaller gold-domed Church of the Holy Trinity?have been a silent witness to Russia?s bloody history and changing fortunes.

It was behind them where the boy emperor Peter I, who would later become Peter the Great, hid with his mother in 1682 to escape the evil designs of ambitious relatives dead-set on usurping the throne.

It was also behind those walls where a good number of monks were lined up and shot by the Bolsheviks in 1920. The monastery was closed down, and those who survived the purge were sent to concentration camps in Siberia.

?In 1944, in an attempt to look more democratic in front of his British and American allies, (Joseph) Stalin ordered the reopening of St. Sergei,? said Irene. ?It marked the reopening of other places of worship because majority of the people did believe in God.?

Apart from being a symbol of Russia?s centuries-old Christian faith, the complex mirrors the gradual as well as drastic changes in architectural design that swept through this part of Europe since medieval times. If Rome wasn?t built in a day, then so was the Holy Trinity-St. Sergei monastery.

Part of its charm, for instance, is seeing a simple 14th-century whitewashed structure like the Church of the Holy Trinity, where marathon 24-hour services are held, next to an ornate 18th-century bell tower teeming with Baroque touches.

Then there?s the equally ornate, low-ceilinged 17th-century refectory that doubles as a winter church. While its interior is dark and teeming with gilded icon stands and icons like most of the churches in the compound, its exterior is painted in vibrant colors to banish, perhaps, those winter blues away.

Several meters away from the refectory is the 16th-century Church of the Assumption, the biggest and arguably one of the most photographed structures in the monastery. One of its main features is a series of royal blue domes studded with gold Merlin-like stars.

Do traffic, churches, pilgrims, relics and an undying devotion to the Mother of God sound vaguely familiar?

If not for the early fall weather and a dearth of happy, smiling faces, Sergiev Posad has an uncanny way of making visitors from a remote, Christianized archipelago in Southeast Asia feel quite at home.