Pilgrim Reindeer in Pisa, 1348
a free multimedia novel by
Thomas A. DuBois, University of Wisconsin-Madison
 |
Pilgrim Reindeer in Pisa, 1348 a free multimedia novel by Thomas A. DuBois, University of Wisconsin-Madison |
|
|
|
|  |
22. The Ceremony [October 5, 1347]
You shall bring with you from wherever you live two loaves of bread..of fine flour and baked with leaven.
Before long, Ülo returned. He was accompanied by some ten other men, all of similar age, all looking like they could be Ülo’s cousins or brothers. They each carried a loaf of bread in their hands. They sat quietly on the benches that were left in the middle of the room. Bávlos sat down as well. Ülo handed him a loaf of bread. Quietly, wordlessly, the men began to eat their bread. Bávlos did as well. After a time, two men rose and quietly slipped out of the room. Bávlos followed them with his eyes. In a moment, they were back, carrying a small rounded statue between them. It was about the height of an eight-year old child, but far stockier. Bávlos could tell that it was a statue of wood, but it was covered in layer upon layer of wax and it looked very swollen and ungainly as a result. The men placed it tenderly upon the ground between the two lines of eating men. Then they resumed their seats and continued to chew their bread. The bread which Bávlos had was sweet and chewy, a soft rye bread as dark as mud. It tasted better than any bread he had ever eaten before.
After most of the men were finished with their eating, Ülo stood up. He faced the statue and bowed and then he began to speak:
“Great Peko, friend of ours in times of want, friend of ours in times of plenty! We greet you this evening and thank you for our year’s harvest. Protect us through the coming winter. Keep our livestock hale and fat. Let our grainbins remain full. Drive away from us the thieving Germans with their demands and unfair ways. Bring us luck as always and guard us from the curses of others.”
“Amen,” said all the men together. Then reverently, silently, they carried the statue outside and placed him on a tree stump beside the paddock. Quietly, the men stripped off their shirts and set these aside. Then they climbed over the paddock fence into the area where Ülo kept his ox. Bávlos did the same. All at once, Ülo let out a deafening yell and charged at one of the other men. They began to slash at each other wildly with their fingernails. Similar cries came from all the other men and they all began to fight each other in just the same way. Bávlos found himself frantically scratching at another, younger man, digging his fingers into his chest. On and on they fought until one of the men shouted in delight.
“I’m bleeding!” he called. Bávlos could see the smile on the man’s face as he held out his arm for all to see. Blood was rapidly dripping from the arm to the ground. It looked as if he had been stabbed.
“Hurray!” cried the men, “Good for you, Toivo! Peko will live at your home for the coming year!”
As quickly as it all started, it seemed that now the fighting was over. The men cheerfully picked up their shirts and walked back toward the house. Bávlos and Ülo carried the statue back inside.
“Beer!” cried one of the younger men.
“Hurray!” they all returned. Ülo began to ladle out deep wooden mugs of his wife’s beer and the men drank abundantly and in good cheer.
“It will be a good year, friends,” said Ülo, “For the blood came very fast. It is thanks to the visit of our Lapp friend here, Bávlos the keeletarkk wanderer.
“Keeletarkk?” said the other men, their eyes wide. “You sir are keeletarkk?”
“I am,” said Bávlos, a little embarrassed. “I have come from my lands to follow the call of Iesh.”
“Ah,” said the other men. “Do you have this same way of praying to St. Peko as we?”
“No,” said Bávlos, hesitantly, “my people are not Christian yet.”
“Not Christian?” asked one of the men in surprise. “Can there be anyone in the world who has not been Christianized yet? It has been thirteen hundred years since our Savior walked the earth!”
“We have sieiddit,” said Bávlos. “They are like your Peko here, but we leave them in one place.”
“You have saints but no Christ?” asked one of the men.
“I guess that’s so,” said Bávlos. “But now I know of Christ and of his mother.”
“And of Peko as well!” laughed one of the men.
“Indeed,” said Bávlos, “of Peko too.” All through the night the men laughed and drank. Bávlos told them about Sámi ways and they told him similar stories about their hunting and fishing methods. They seemed to know so many things that were part of Sámi life, although they were also clearly farmers and didn’t seem very familiar with the winter darkness at all.
“Does the sun not flee from your lands in winter?” asked Bávlos.
“Flee it does,” said Ülo. “The days grow short and when the sun rises, it is weak.” Bávlos noticed that these people’s name for the sun, päike, was almost identical to the Sámi one, beaivi. He wondered if they, too, were descendents of the sun.
“But the days still seem long here to me,” said Bávlos. “In my land, the night is almost endless at this time of year.”
“Indeed?” said one of the men. “How sorrowful it would be to not see the sun!”
“It is hard,” said Bávlos thoughtfully. Morning found the men lounging about the cottage, talking quietly and finishing their night-long drinking of beer. Bávlos felt wonderful. He had not enjoyed himself so much for many, many weeks.
“You will stay with us for the winter?” said Ülo, burping. “Then you shall see the ceremony for Peko that we hold in the spring!”
“No,” said Bávlos sadly. “I must return to Gotland at once. Master Claes is an old man and he cannot take care of my reindeer well. I must return to her and resume my journey.
“Keeletarkk wanderer,” said Ülo musingly. “Always wandering, never at home. Where will you ever come to rest?”
“I don’t know,” said Bávlos. “I wish it were here. But I must follow where Iesh commands.”
Ülo nodded. “After breakfast, Tiiu will show you the way back to Taanilinn.”
“Thank you,” said Bávlos.
