MOSCOW, November 17. /TASS Correspondent Elena Sycheva/. I live in a big city, I have got used to hours-long traffic jams, coffee in paper cups, the never-ending rush, and the high-speed Internet, and I could not imagine that in just six hours I may find myself on a ship deck, cut off cell phones or the Internet, listening to crying seagulls, watching brown seals and toothed whales - belugas and their funny water fountains. I will learn very soon that a lot more "impossible" is absolutely possible under Chukotka's gloomy gray sky.

People in comfortable cities can barely imagine that the foggy windy land of Chukotka can be someone's home. The only way here to get from city to city is by sea or by air - in good weather only. The navigation is the main option to ship food, fuel, medicines and other necessary goods to the peninsula. However, it terminates for eight months every year. Long severe snowy winters, short cold and rainy summers, polar bears coming up to people. The impressions make you wonder how the indigenous peoples have been living here for centuries - the Chukchi, Eskimos, Evens, and Yukaghirs.

History

They lived in yarangas (tent-like traditional mobile homes) covered with deer skins, heated by open fire in the center of the "house". Those, who lived in the tundra, hunted reindeer, and those who lived on the coast, hunted sea animals.

Their life was directly connected with the nature - either the tundra or the sea. The reindeer was both food and transport. Its skin was used for clothes, shoes and for house insulation. Dried tendons were threads; medicines were deer milk and antlers; dishes and jewelry were made of horns. The sea animal - whale, walrus, seal, and polar bear, in which the Chukotka's coast is rich, were for the coastal Chukchi and Eskimos food and warmth: melted whale fat was the heat and light, bones were used to build tents, whalebone was used for nets, and clothes and shoes were made of seal skin. Whale and walrus skin covered tents and fishing boats - baidarkas (walrus skin boats).

Good weather, favorable sea, successful hunting were matters of survival, thus the gratitude to nature for its generosity, and the recognition of its greatness, respect and spirituality are at the heart of the North's indigenous peoples' culture - in fairy tales, folk songs and in dances.

Master of the Land

Nowadays, the North's indigenous peoples are not seeking support from spirits to survive; national costumes have "moved" to museums, and folk dances and songs are seen rather at ethnic festivals than in everyday life. The youth prefer urban life to nomadic, and not only children, but many adults do not speak their native languages. On the verge of extinction are languages, cultures and traditional crafts - reindeer herds are getting fewer, teams of reindeer herders are splitting. Quite audible are the calls not to allow the death of indigenous culture. Some people say it is their purpose to preserve the native culture: fairy tales, songs and dances, musical instruments, national costumes and, of course, the native language.

Alexey Vakhrushev, an Eskimo, is an ethnographer and film director. He makes documentaries about Chukotka's indigenous peoples: the Chukchi, the Eskimos and the Yukaghirs. For a new project - a historical adventure with fantasy elements - Alexey recreates a 17th-century settlement of Eskimo sea hunters in the Bering Sea's Kresta Gulf.

"This is a story about the culture that existed here for many thousands of years and that has suddenly disappeared over the recent 60 years. The Eskimo settlements were mostly closed in the late 50s to become very quickly objects for archaeology studies, not a single costume has remained... Here used to live people, absolutely confident, proud, strong, happy in their own way. Chukotka needs this film, the Russian and the global Arctic need this film, because it is about real characters, the strength and power of the human spirit," the film director said with confidence.

The film's title is "Nunalehtak - Master of the Land". "There is such a concept among the Eskimos and coastal Chukchi - the master of the land - the eldest man in a family, who was the first to settle in that territory. He is the founder of a family, of a settlement, a person who is responsible for everything. In our script, an orphan inherits the "title". This is a story about how the boy was growing up, how he turned into a man and became a worthy master of the land," he continued.

The film takes us back to the early 17th century, about 1610. It shows the traditional society before contacts with Europeans. "We will meet people who have never seen cultural traditions of other peoples, who have lived absolutely their own way for many centuries. This is very important to me, as back then the northerners were different: the spirit, strength, confidence and, in fact, the pride to live there, and, most importantly, the happiness they had. They experienced a lot of epic events, their life was full of magic and humor. In the hard life they had it was impossible to do without laughter", he said.

In the set, the production team is building on Cape Opasnyi of Kresta Bay, not far from the village of Egvekinot, everything is reconstructed in traditional technologies: the yarangas, ethnic boats baidarkas and kayaks, clay pottery, household items and national costumes. The director stresses specifically the film will feature not professional actors, but the indigenous people who will speak their native languages.

"We've had a casting, we've been to practically all ethnic villages in Eastern Chukotka, and we've seen more than 600 people. That's how we have found almost all the characters."

After the production, the Eskimo village on Cape Opasnyi will become a tourist complex, an ethnic park, dubbed Nunalehtak - Master of the Land, a tourist attraction, and a center to preserve Eastern Chukotka's traditional culture. "Just climb up, right above the village in good weather to find yourself on top of the world, because here, on both sides, are fjords, the view of the endless Kresta Bay, whale fountains, screaming birds at the rookery, growling bearded seals under the rocks, and singing cranes. You're standing there, unable to speak in that breathtaking beauty, as if you're in the space," he said with admiration.

Tourists will be able to feel the atmosphere of the Eskimo life in the 17th century, and may try traditional crafts. "We have made two types of kayaks, cheking the encyclopedia of ethnic boats. A master from Karelia has made 10 frames that will be shipped to here, and they will be covered with bearded seal skins. 6 baidarkas have been made by traditional sea hunters from the Lorino farm. In the film, the boats will sail and row, but for use at the ethnic park they will be equipped with a hatch for an outboard motor. They will be used as intended - our contemporaries will use them for fishing and for hunting walrus, seal."

The local community will be attracted to work in the ethnic village, thus organizers would not have to bring in additional personnel. They locals will be responsible for the ethnic part - dances, songs, competitions, cuisine.

The project team is specifically proud about the costumes. "We are making genuine Yupic costumes, none of which, as it has turned out, has remained even in the local museum. They are sewn by a team of experienced masters whom we have invited from across Chukotka. The team features Chukchi, Eskimo, Evenk women. They observe absolutely the traditional technologies, using more than 25 kinds of fur and skin. We have to practically restore many skills. We have faced a big problem with coloring the young seal skin in ruby, and in the end the recipe was found in the [Georg Wilhelm] Steller diaries - it turned out that the coloring technology had come from the Aleuts. We will have 17 costumes for the main characters, festive and casual, and later on these costumes will go to various museums. They are sewn with tendon threads, the decorations are sewn with deer hair, they are of outstanding beauty," the film director said.

Another 50 costumes - festive and casual, Eskimo and Chukchi - are for extras. They will remain at the ethnic park, and the complex employees will wear them to welcome tourists.

The ethnographers, who managed to record the stories of the indigenous Yupics in their native language in the 1970s, and the archaeologists, who participated in excavations of Eskimo monuments, have helped the filmmakers a lot to recreate the life and atmosphere of an Eskimo village.

"We are endlessly lucky to be able to hear those whose childhood was in the villages that have disappeared. They are only a few people left. They consult us about anything - about how the house was arranged inside, how the coastal village lived. Their knowledge is the endless valuable resource, the true ethnic cultural heritage, and the purpose of our project "Nunalehtak - Master of the Land" is to preserve it. Without this knowledge our work would've been just a fantasy about Eskimo, while now everything is real, exactly how the ancestors used to do," says Alexey.

"Speaking the native language means freedom, happiness"

The Chukchi language is unique and ancient. Its existence dates back several centuries. Right now it is listed on the UNESCO Red Book as an endangered language. It has many dialects, even men and women used to speak "male" or "female" dialects. According to the Russian census of 2010, 5,095 people speak Chukchi.

Antonina Kergitval taught it at school for 22 years. In retirement, she and her husband Grigory Ranavroltyn are working with the Native Word non-governmental organization offering lessons in Chukchi, Eskimo and Even to anyone.

"I prefer lively lessons - to play, compete, sing, dance. By all means (should be) a ball during breaks. When I worked at school, I borrowed dolls from the theater on the mainland - even undergraduates loved it that way. They watch, listen, repeat, remember. It is important that everything is clear for kids," Antonina said. They deliver lessons at kindergartens, schools, art schools, and they teach the children who sing folk songs in an ensemble. "If children do not learn their native language, they have a different world perception, a different attitude towards people, because when we speak our native language, we all are in harmony. And when you don't know the language, when you may only hear it but not feel, not emphatic, it's bad."

The organization's founder was a friend of Antonina and Grigory, a famous French philologist and linguist, Charles Wensten, who for 20 years had worked on a four-language dictionary - Chukchi-Russian-English-French in four volumes. Antonina and Grigory are among eight co-authors. "He got interested in languages, traveled to the Nenets Autonomous Region, then to Kamchatka, then came to Chukotka, and he really liked it here, and he initiated a club of native language fans, which later on has developed into the Native Word public organization," Antonina said.

When Antonina started working at school, first-year students every week had six lessons of the native language, and ninth-year students - three. Presently, schools students have one lesson a week, and it is not obligatory. "We started going to school not knowing Russian, I can't even remember when it was I learned to speak Russian," she said.

Antonina and her husband also participated in making Chukchi online lessons - to make them available to those interested in learning the language on their own.

She collected folklore, recorded folk tales in the native language and translated them into Russian. The collected fairy tales were published in the Tales of Modern Chukotka. The book contains many tales for the little ones. They teach the life and give elementary lessons in everyday life.

"Learning the language is important because it is our native language. We cannot stay for long somewhere on the mainland, it is very difficult for us, we feel homesick; and when we speak our language, we are completely different - we are free, we laugh, even may become loud. Speaking the native language means freedom, happiness, the feeling that we need each other and that we are close to each other. Language skills immediately bring people closer."

Grab remnants of reindeer herders' culture

Vladislav Nuvano, a Chukchi scientist, ethnographer. He is a researcher at the Laboratory of History and Economics at the Shilo North-East Interdisciplinary Scientific Research Institute, the Russian Academy of Sciences' Far Eastern Branch. Vladislav was born into a family of reindeer herders, in the Vilyuney Chukshi family group, known in the south of Chukotka. He chose not to become a reindeer herder, and took a course at the agricultural institute to become a cattle specialist so that to be useful to the family business.

Vladislav is a historian and ethnographer - he travels to reindeer herding lands, collects ethnographic material, publishes scientific papers to preserve the lifestyle and traditions of the tundra Chukchi. "I have works on collectivization, on the rite of burning, on traditional holidays and rituals, and a comprehensive analysis of the Chukchi reindeer husbandry," the scientist said.

He has consulted a documentary about reindeer herders - The Tundra Book, as well as authors of the Russian-Chukchi and Chukchi-Russian dictionaries. "We have worked on dictionaries, I made drawings, because I know this material culture, I know the structure of sleds, yarangas, how they're made, what details, clothes." Vladislav's drawings have been published in the dictionaries.

At the age of five months the Chukchi babies undergo the initiation ceremony. After that ceremony, Vladislav received the name Tynankergau - "the birth of light". "Nowadays almost no one knows this name of mine," Vladislav said. "It was given to me when I was five months old. Initiation is a reindeer herding tradition. I was dressed and taken to the tundra on reindeer, the trip was many kilometers long, and there the ceremony was performed. They cut open sleeves of the babies' overalls, closed until then, the hands are released, and the baby receives a name - the baby becomes a human."

Vladislav began going to the deer herd when he was eight. "I can remember how it was. I began going to the herd. One day a part of the herd broke away, you see, they are half-wild. My uncle runs after the deer, I, of course, can't keep up with him, I cry, but do run. We ran for about 20 kilometers, and still I did fall behind, the adults left me. It was only in the evening that I finally found the herd. That's what the time was like, you know. As I grew up, I realized how hard that job was. I followed my uncle, then I moved to my father's team, where I could feel what it was like. My father, of course, did not babble with me, I was with him, he was the boss, I was a subordinate. I wanted affection, but what affection could have been with my father - run there, run here. This upbringing is tough, but in fact it was love. When my father passed away, I felt my anchor was gone," he said.

While the parents worked in the tundra, the kids lived and studied at a boarding school. On holidays, they came to their parents in the tundra, where they had to work real hard. "When still at school I began to understand the herd well enough. My younger brother and I were 9th-year school students, we were allowed to be on duty on our own: we were to direct the herd to pastures, to drink. After calving in the summer, the herd reached more than 4,000 animals, and in the autumn, after sending 1,000 to industrial slaughter, for the winter they left 3,200 for further reproduction."

When Vladislav dared to ask his father to let him go to study, he asked him to stay and work for another year, then for another, and another ... "It's very hard to let go, men think that leaving deer is a betrayal. Nowadays there are only men left in the tundra, women have been leaving," Vladislav says.

Herder teams have been shrinking, and the cattle are also shrinking, he continued. "Gradually, our team, so to say, collapsed. The herd followed the wild, and fewer than 100 animals remained. They were given to another team. The overall cattle in the farm are fewer than 700 deer, while in the past 22,000 used to be left for the winter. Other farms are facing similar situations."

Women leave the tundra because they want to raise children, young men tend to the city, civilization in search of an easier life. Traditions are gradually fading away, modern housing construction technologies are replacing the traditional ones - more reliable, though time-consuming.

"Work in the herd has given to me the basis for what I am doing now. I have no special historical education, but I do have the basic knowledge. This work is important, because the culture is vanishing, and we need to grab these remnants, and we do grab them, we go on expeditions, write down, sketch, write manuals on reindeer husbandry," Vladislav Nuvano summed up.

Ethnic history "recorded" in dances

Ekaterina Ionova was born in the village of Sireniki in the Chukotka Autonomous Region's Providensky District. Her grandmother was the chief harpooner in sea hunters' team. "My grandmother's father wanted to have an eldest son, so that he would be of assistance, would become a hunter, but instead of a boy was born our grandmother. He anyway took her hunting, and she was the main harpooner. Grandmother said that men were even ashamed that a woman was managing them."

Since childhood, Ekaterina danced in an Eskimo ensemble, when she came to study in Anadyr. She danced and continued to sing. Ekaterina is a stylish young woman in a business suit, she works at the local administration's finance department, and after hours she changes into a national Eskimo costume, takes out of a case a tambourine and joins the ensemble - to sing. Her daughter and nephews have pursued folk dancing. "It was not so long ago that I brought Kirill, the nephew, to the ensemble for the first time. His eyes were shining, he sat there watching, laughing, as if he could understand the movements. He enjoys these dances."

The ensemble's name is Atasikun, which in Eskimo means 'all together' - because it unites different peoples. Nina Akukyn organized the ensemble in 1986. Right now her daughter Irina Suvorova runs it. She restores songs in different dialects and dances - from video and audio recordings and from the memory. This is how dances and melodies get from one generation to another. "Every dance and every movement has its own meaning. For example, the Very Small dance tells about a boy who needs to climb a mountain, but he does not know how to do it. So, he puts up stones and thus, thanks to these stones, he rises. While rising and then while descending, he gradually grows up. This dance is a symbol of growing up. Every movement "shows" the plot, the viewer can understand the dance's meaning."

Many dances had symbolic ritual significance, for example, a holiday to celebrate the first bowhead whale. People appealed to the whale spirit so that it is not offended, and performed a dance in its honor. The dances "Whale Hunting", "Walrus Hunting", "Deer Slaughter" show movements that the viewers can remember from childhood - how boats were launched, how men left for hunting. Viewers realize meanings of the dance movements.

"Those who still can remember how those songs sounded, are only Irina Suvorova and the elders that may remember something, but many of these people are unable to walk. We invite them to every holiday. They dance even when seated. We are doing our best to preserve and revive this culture."

"Absorbed culture with mother's milk"

"My mother literally was absorbing the love for the native language and culture of the Chukchi people from the cradle - through songs, fairy tales, stories. She grew up in the Rykaypiy tundra, and whatever she had heard or saw, she shared with me. It was so interesting - she is a connoisseur of ancestral songs. My mother's taught me to play the yarara, which is a Chukchi tambourine, she's taught me throat singing, and helped to translate Chukchi poems. Mom talked to me and my brother in colloquial Chukchi," Vladimir Rultyn said.

Vladimir was born in the village of Ryrkaypiy on the Chukchi Sea shore. He has been living in Anadyr for a small part of life. He is a cook by profession, saying the preservation of the national Chukchi culture is his life's work.

"Dances and songs - I've absorbed them with my mother's milk, this culture lives in me, I try to participate in all events. Traditional rites of thanksgiving to nature, fire, some dances - I accompany all these by playing the harp," Vladimir said.

He writes poems and songs in the native language. "I've studied Chukchi poems and got interested and decided to write my own poems. The first was a poem about my mother - Mom's Songs and Fairy Tales.

"Preserving the culture is very important to me, the language and culture have been disappearing - it is a huge tragedy for the people. I've noticed that at times visitors are more interested in our culture, traditions and language than the indigenous Chukchi are."