We are not Estonians nor Russians. We are Setos.
Our schedule for the weekend was so free from interviews, that we had time to go on an adventure around Setomaa, by car. Three guys and one car flew across forests, by white storks and through little villages stopping wherever something interesting was to be found. Imagine freedom, thrill of speed, hair waving in the wind and all the other possible road movie -Hollywood cliches. That’s exactly what is was like.
Almost.
First we ended up in Obinitsa-city, which is this years Finno-Ugric capital of culture. Calling it ”city” is bit of an exaggeration though – quoting a Seto lady we interviewed ”there’s me and my neighbour and another and a couple of others (living in Obinitsa).”
The lady mentioned (Lidia Sillaotsa) was standing in a ”vanavara-maja” when we met her – safe from the rain, selling old things. We figured that that interviewing her would be quite interesting, but she turned out to be a real information-bank.
– Are you a Seto? We asked.
– Of course! She answered. – I live right next door. Come visit.
And so we went and talked for three hours. This 83 year old lady turned out to be the former director of the Seto-Museum, in which she held ”four hour lectures daily for tourists”. She had many stories ranging from clothes to history, from history to the present day – and a little bit to the future also.
We sat at the table like schoolboys. We sat and listened. We drank peppermint tee offered by Lidia and heard stories about Setomaa. We heard about Soviet times, when the Seto language was not tolerated. We heard about deportations to Siberia, about re-independent Estonia of the 90s and the ”second awakening” of the Seto culture, which slowly is growing as rising self-confidence and self-awareness.
– But the young people don’t speak. They aren’t able to use the language, Lidia concluded.
We filmed everything (you’ll see later!), thanked nicely, handed a box of chocolates to her, headed towards the car, towards the next day and towards the pouring rain.
We had received a hot tip from Ahto: Kirmas, a local party. Special days have been named after holy dudes, when people gather to dance and sing Leelo-songs – and to drink a lot of Hanza-liqour. There are as many special days as there are saints, and each village has their own celebration. The party is organized casually: people show up when the days work is done.
We also showed up, although couple of hours early. We already thought that nobody would show up to rain drenched Uusvada-village, but after a brief visit elsewhere we where happy to see a gathering of about 20 people. Leelo-choirs bursted singing around the field, accordion and garmoshkas rang and Hanza was flowing. Kirmas of Saint Peter oli käes.
We started chatting with an elderly member of the choir about Leelo. Paul Vahelaan leaned on his walking stick when he suddenly began to tell his life story, and asked us to follow him to his childhood home. And once again we found ourselves in the middle of a wonderful history lesson – we heard about Soviet times, where children were a-plenty, there was little to no food, and Seto language was something to use with consideration. He leaned on his cane, took us to his sauna and told us about the girls that bathed there, about rotting piles of wood on his yard, and about his disability pension, which is so so so so small and tenuous (despite being one of the biggest pensions available in Estonia).
We’ll leave this to a cliffhanger, but we will surely return to this gentleman and to his stories later. Because we listened. And filmed everything.
On Monday morning we stormed into the office of the mayor of Värska, Raul Kudre. Raul answered kindly to our questions politely, precisely and patiently. We asked about the current situation and the future of Setomaa. As is the case with periphery in Finland, Estonian countryside is quietly draining away. Something has to be done in order to revitalise the Seto culture.
Tourism is (one of) the answer(s).
In Finnish Lapland some locals react negatively towards all the hassle and toward all the tourists, who cram themselves to Lapland, take photographs and endless selfies with four wind hats. Could it be possible, that the same kind of development would happen in Setomaa, if the tourists kept coming in hordes?
According to Raul, the answer is ”no”. There are no problems with tourists, and there is even room to grow for tourism in Setomaa, as the quantity of tourists isn’t that huge.
We also asked about the current situation with the Seto youngsters (remember what Lidia said about kids not speaking Seto? That one).
Raul pondered this one for a moment, before giving his views on things. The Seto language is taught both in daycare and in the local school. At the music school one can choose to play traditional instruments.
So at least there’s will to preserve the Seto culture. Many move out, few move back. What the future will unfold? Who knows.
Oh boy.
In between all this adventuring we’ve been trying to learn the Seto language. By guitar, ukulele and the flute we’ve tried to find the characteristics which can be transferred to our new Seto song (which will be performed next Saturday, as publicly as possible).
Following days will consist of diligent language learning, more interviewing, more meetings and one savusauna. Butt naked!
-Juho
