N )   D E C E M B E R , 1 9 4 3   -   R E I N D E E R   R I T U A L ,   C H E K A N O V S K O G O

At the old shaman’s urging, Peter traveled to the Chekanovskogo mountains to participate in a reindeer ritual, held by the Tungus tribe: “We have journeyed to the Birchenwald, two weeks hard travel on foot, at first with the yaks, then at the mountain pass we exchange our yaks for reindeer and sleds. We have entered the land of the Yakuten Tunguska, where Top-hats rule the horizon. It is the land of the legendary soma of the Vedic poets, flesh of the gods, Amanita Muscaria - der Fliegenpilz! It is the reindeer we follow. They pine for der Fliegenpilz, spitting and spraying like rabid oxen. In the whiteness, raw must steams off their backs and crystallizes in the frozen air...der Fliegenpilz...I remember it well, I must have been five or six. There were birches everywhere, fine birches. It was spring. My nana, she sings us a rhyme, very softly at first, so as not to waken the forest. Baskets, baskets, we are going on a treasure hunt, but we must not touch the treasure, oh no. It is red and spotty and very, very bad:

A nipwell stands in the wood, shock-still and mute
he has of scarlet pure, a mantle around him
Say who may that manikin be, who stands there on one leg?

Then we scream, loud enough to waken the whole forest: ‘Der Fliegenpilz! Der Fliegenpilz!’ My nana’s cheeks, they flush as she plucks the fleshy crimson head. Garlands, garlands, we are going to a faerie wedding, but we must not tell mama, no, not ever. Nana is the bride, der Fliegenpilz is the groom; the forest is unearthly still and silent, my nana’s eyes greedy and soft as she hides der Fliegenpilz under her dress. Soon they are man and wife...der Fliegenpilz...The reindeer dig through the snow with their hooves and antlers, snorting and snuffling like truffle-pigs. We stand well clear; they will gore a man if interrupted from their search. A beast collapses, intoxicated. The Tungus go quickly to work, winching the animal up a tree using a special harness. A long hide tube is inserted into the animal’s rectum, and it receives a massive, if somewhat snowy, enema. Soon the Tungus have collected a large bucket of urine; we sit in a circle and the liquid is passed around, left to right. My turn comes and I take the beaker, so warm it steams my glasses, clears my nose, fills my lungs with a stinging madness . . .”