Last summer, journalist Nikolai Gernets took part in a medico-cultural mission to the
Kanin Peninsula – a massive body of land that juts out into the Barents Sea and Arctic Ocean. Home to the Nenets people, who are nomadic reindeer herders,
Kanin is remote, severe and endlessly fascinating.
I attempt to pull open the flap of my tent. It sticks. Drops of rain that fell during the day have turned to ice. Clearly the temperature dropped below freezing and, in my three sweaters, two pairs of pants and anti-encephalitis suit, I am rather uncomfortable… I climb into two sleeping bags – one inside the other – leaving only a small breathing hole in the cowl, and turn off my flashlight. Another day on the tundra has come to an end…
This past summer I was lucky enough to take part in the project “Kanin Red Chum”* (KKCh), organized by the Yasavey Association of Nenets Peoples. It is the third year of this revitalized project, which brings medical aid and informational-cultural materials to the native peoples of the peninsula, who are nomadic reindeer herders.
In the Soviet era, similar brigades – with a doctor and cinema operator – were in the tundra year-round. Today, the tour lasts just two months. There is no gas being mined in the western regions of the Nenets Autonomous Okrug, so the reindeer herders are left to their own devices. They have no links to “the mainland,” no regular helicopter flights, no satellite phones. In emergencies, they have no one they can turn to. The value of KKCh is therefore unquestionable: when there is a professional doctor in the tundra, the locals – and they themselves say this – feel more at ease. Meanwhile, the job of the kultrabotnik (cultural worker) is focused on active, developmental games with children and… television, which the herders love.
So it was that two Arkhangelsk residents – doctor Leonid Zubov and myself (in the role of kultrabotnik) – were shuttled by helicopter directly to a brigade of reindeer herders on the Kanin Peninsula, not far from the Barents Sea.
the tundra, despite what most people think, is far from simply a flat, swampy place. In fact, the scenery is quite varied, from sandy deserts to huge lakes, from rocky outcroppings to waterfalls, wide rivers and high hills, from groves of impenetrable native bushes as high as a man, to berry plantations.
If you are accustomed to city roads, getting around here can be a challenge. You have to begin by dropping the notion that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Instead, you start out by getting the lay of the land, so that you do not get disoriented, so that in circumventing bodies of water you avoid unstable ground, etc. Aside from this, one must learn to wander about knee-deep in water, to leap from tussock to tussock, to barge through local “jungles.” And, a bit of advice for anyone who loses their way: begin by climbing the nearest pine tree to survey your surroundings.
in the summer, a day on the tundra is full of activity that begins quite early in the morning. Reindeer herding families are large: mama and papa plus four to seven children. Each has their own responsibilities. And work begins to heat up after the shepherd on duty drives the “bull” deer into the corral.
Papa looks over his reindeer to see if any have injuries or are limping. The eldest son is sent off to gather a load of firewood, or to bring fresh water from the river or lake. The women focus on housework: preparing meals and putting the house in order. The younger kids run about with switches, or with a hatchet and knife, which they are armed with from about the time they start walking. It is not rare to see children missing a part of a finger or a toe – this is normal, and they rarely make the same mistake twice.
Children like best to hunt and fish, and they are true experts at it. None are more cunning than they at chasing down moulting geese, gathering turtle eggs or netting fish. It’s impossible for an outlander to keep up with them. Even six year olds traverse hillocks and rocky terrain like experienced trackers, faultlessly guessing which bushes hide nests.
children are often offended that their father gives considerably more attention to the reindeer than to them. But the reindeer is tsar and god in the tundra. In fact, the Nenets believe that a White Reindeer created the world. Legends are legends, but the fact is that the reindeer makes life possible here: the animals provide food and clothing, and their blood runs in the herders’ veins. For ten months of the year, fresh reindeer meat and blood – their basic foodstuff – is the singular source of vitamins that the Nenets herders can count on. And it takes 16 animal skins to clothe a single human. This is to say nothing of skins for blankets and tents, leather ropes and bindings for sleighs, veins for sewing, etc. It would be impossible to list all the ways the Nenets use the reindeer to sustain life.
never ask a reindeer herder how many animals are in his herd. Even if he replies, you’ll never get a straight answer. One simply does not count one’s deer.
You can also offend your host by refusing an offer of hospitality. They will understand if you say you don’t eat raw meat, but you cannot turn down their offer of hot tea – the favorite drink on the tundra. Tea means conversation, and it’s a great time to ask questions, since every reindeer herder loves nature and is willing to talk about it for hours.
the world of the reindeer herder is relaxed and unbridled. There is no hustle and bustle. If the peninsula is socked in by a fog – the sort where you can’t even see your hand before your face – it may well last a day or two, or even a week. The reindeer will wander off in search of their favorite meal (mushrooms and moss), so there is no sense thrashing about. Time is best spent catching up on things you have been putting off: repairing the sleds, doing laundry, rearranging things in the wagons. The Nenets work methodically and constantly on the skins from which they create – by hand – beautiful malitsy: their special hooded coats made from two skins, with fur facing both out and in. In a good malitsa, they can rest easy: they fear no frost, rain or blizzard. In the winter, if you lose your way in the tundra, you can simply clear a space, wrap yourself in the parachute that is one’s malitsa and calmly go to sleep, trying not to be disturbed by the wailing winds. In the morning, you dig yourself out and continue on your way. And when someone asks you, “Where did you spent the night?” you can answer simply: “In my turtleshell chum.”
the brigades are nomadic to keep their herds from overgrazing the moss and grasses. The tundra is fragile – its fertile layer and plants grow back very slowly. Cross-country roads blazed here 30-40 years ago by explorers still look new today. Over the centuries since time immemorial, the reindeer herders have trod the same roads, or “vorgi” – arteries that, carved in the land’s green cloak, are easily visible from a helicopter.
When it is time for a brigade to move to a new pastureland, it packs everything up in sleds, and deconstructs its homes onto wagons. The reindeer are lashed four to a sled and gathered into trains of four or five sleds. The Nenets call their migrations “yamdanka” (verb: yamdat) and, during summer months, they undertake the day-long treks every seven or eight days.
When everything is ready, the brigadir leads the way, so as to select the pastures where they will camp next. The argish (the train of sleds and carts) can stretch a kilometer in length… The grass rustles under the skids of the sled, and it is as if you are not riding, but floating… Actually, you are not really traveling over hard earth, but an endless swamp. To make the work easier for the reindeer, the herders follow a path through damp places, and they try to choose a time for the yamdanka when there will be dew on the ground.
The reindeer are driven with the help of reins and cries. The reins are for steering, and the cries are the gas pedal. Every five or six meters the animals have to be urged on again, else they will stop and munch on plants or grasses.
the character of the tundra residents can be judged from this fact: before they depart from a settlement, they thoroughly clean up the place they have been, even sweeping the earth with a birch twig broom. Everything must be clean so that new grass will grow.
unquestionably, the reindeer herder’s best friend is the almost completely unknown reindeer herding dog. These dogs, some of which are the strangest mongrel mixes, are intelligent and gentle. Two of them, obeying the whistles and commands of their masters, can handle a herd of 5000. So important are these dogs that a herder is not allowed to join a brigade if he does not have his own working dog.
The dog is an equal member of the family. It is allowed to enter the tent and to sleep under the warm stove or wherever it likes. Children frequently crawl all over them and grab their ears. But the dogs are very forgiving.
we are city dwellers, but we tried to blend harmoniously into the everyday lives of these natives. I grew a beard and learned a few dozen Nenets words. To the loud guffaws of the entire brigade, we were taught how to drive a reindeer sled.
The doctor was respected for his impeccable ability to give injections to both animals and people. In fact, many first asked him to treat their animals, and only then would they share with him their own ailments.
For my part, the kids would wake me each morning with cries of: “Uncle Kolya, gotta have cartoons!”
In return, we were endlessly bewildered by and respectful of the herders, whose life is one of constant movement, of complete collaboration with nature. They do not struggle or wait for good weather, and they never take more from the tundra than what they need for the present day.
this land at the end of the earth, between two seas, is severe and beautiful. It is both attractive and frightening. And it is unblemished, just as any other place on Earth that has been little touched by the fruits of civilization – save for the satellite modem and a digital camera… And everywhere you look, there is untrammeled nature and a stripe of sea along the horizon… RL
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