#ARCTIC. #SIBERIA. THIS IS TAIMYR. It is unknown whether they decorated the Christmas tree, because at that time the persecution of the Christmas tree as a “priestly relic” began in Soviet Russia. However, as Urvantsev himself recalled, the winterers entertained themselves with conversations and sometimes even music. At one of their winter camps, they had a gramophone with them and quite a lot of records of a wide variety of genres: arias and romances by Sobinov, Chaliapin, Figner, Nezhdanova, Varya Panina. Local residents also came to “guest” for dinner or invited them to their place.
From Nikolay Urvantsev’s memoirs:
“One evening before the New Year, Vasily Tynka came to us and, taking me aside, said with a mysterious look: “Chonya will shamanize today”. Chonya was one of our shepherds, an elderly, modest and silent man, and did not stand out in any way among his relatives… I heard that Chonya was a shaman, but did not attach any importance to it, considering it all trifle. But that turned out to be true, and that was an opportunity to see everything in real life. I asked Vasily if he and I could go and see this action. Tynka, after thinking, agreed on the condition that we behave quietly and not interfere in anything. Chonya would practice shamanism, begging the spirits of his ancestors for help and protection in hunting animals and fish in the coming new year. The three of us would go: me, Elizaveta Ivanovna and Koreshkov. Shamanism would take place not far, in the forest of the Norilsk valley, in a specially chosen place far from the usual sites. Vasily, it turned out, was lying: knowing in advance that I would definitely go, he brought a second sleigh with him. We got there quite quickly. It was a large clearing, bordered by a dense larch forest. The night was quiet and frosty, the moon was shining brightly, adding mystery to everything around. In the middle stood a large tent, twice as tall as usual and two fathoms across, so it could accommodate 15 or more people. At the entrance rose a tall pole with crossbars on which were mounted figurines of animals and birds roughly carved from wood. The largest one sat on top of the pole. In outline it resembled a loon. Obviously, those were traces of totemism, an ancient religion in which one or another animal or a bird was considered the ancestor of a clan and even a family. It was worshiped and honored as a patron spirit. Around the edges of the clearing there were many sleighs with unharnessed reindeer tied to them. Obviously, those people came to take part in shamanism. We entered. No one looked at us, did not nod, and only made room to give us a place to sit. A fire was burning in the middle, and in front of it, facing the entrance, with his legs folded in an oriental style, sat Chonya in a shaman’s costume and a cap, from under which gray hair was seen. It was a parka (short robe), skillfully sewn from multi-colored pieces of deer skins and suede, painted in different colors. Both the parka and the hat were hung with multi-colored ribbons and bells, which would ring at the slightest movement of the shaman. However, for now he sat, motionless, silently looking at the fire and smoking a large pipe made of mammoth bone. Two assistants sat on the sides and were also silent. It was quiet. Then Chonya extended his left hand, and he was given a large tambourine, also hung with ribbons and bells. He struck the tambourine, which hummed dully and solemnly. The shamanism began. Chonya sat, swaying, humming and hitting the tambourine. Those around him picked up the tune.
Apparently, it was a prayer – a call to the spirits of the ancestors. The singing intensified, the tambourine hummed louder, the shaman suddenly jumped up, began dancing and spinning around the fire, hitting the tambourine harder and harder. Its sounds turned into a continuous hum. The assistants nearby also jumped up and stood nearby to support the shaman if anything happened. He began to spin faster and faster, the singing turned into screams, the assistants grabbed the shaman from behind by the strap at the belt thrown under his arms, and began to support him so that he would not fall. There was general excitement. The figure of the shaman was no longer visible. It merged into a solid blur. Then he apparently fell into an unconscious state, as he hung helplessly in the arms of his assistants. Everything fell silent, he was carefully lowered to the ground on a deer skin, and he lay motionless for several minutes. Then he stood up and began to speak. Tynka later told me that the shaman at that time saw the spirits – the ancestors, talked to them, and they predicted a good fishing year. That was where the shamanism ended. Everyone began to leave, and we left too. I think that Chonya did not seek any benefits from his shamanism other than the respect of others. He simply satisfied the inclination of his fellow tribesmen to the mysterious, to the mystical, which was so strong in the souls of ordinary people, who were still very few touched by culture and enlightenment.
We celebrated the New Year together, baked pies, congratulated each other, drank champagne, warmly remembering Semashko for his kindness… The thing was that in Moscow, taking a letter of recommendation from Sverdlov, Elizaveta Ivanovna had to see the People’s Commissar of Health Semashko [for medicine]. He welcomed her very kindly, questioned her in detail, looked through the list, added something and in conclusion said: “You young people will be so far in the North for a whole year, you need to celebrate the New Year some way…” and gave a note to the warehouse – to give the expedition some good wine, including champagne”.
In the History Spot photo project’s previous publication, we told about what newspapers wrote about Norilsk in the 1970s.
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Text: Svetlana Ferapontova, Photo: Nornickel Polar Branch archive
