Trafika Europe 13 - Russian Ballet

Val Votrin

one need only direct oneself to the nearest shaman, and he will communicate the prayer to one or another of the Great Spirits. Only no one does get the urge to offer up a prayer anymore. To pray for what? We have everything. Fields, pasturage, herds, food to eat. They say that in the olden days, some people had got the notion to offer prayers so that the Era would dawn and the Trumpet sound. They tried to hurry the spirits in this way. And the spirits appeared and incinerated these suffering ones, and so, the matter was put to rest. Nishkni would tell me these stories. She knew a whole lot of them. I would ask her how she knew so much and, one time, she revealed to me in strict confidence that she was the daughter of a shaman. I did not believe her. I knew her father – he was your average man without a name, because it wouldn’t have occurred to anyone to give him one. But Nishkni was named at a very early age, when she was but a toddler. In no other way was she distinguishable from all the other children, other than that she was always very serious and immersed in thought. When anyone had a question, all the children would come to her and she would tell them. She would always know the answer. Perhaps this was Nishkni’s other peculiarity. She always knew the answer to any question. There was but one question that no one dared ask her. The very question that was on everyone’s mind – when? One time, some boy was goaded into asking her this question. I remember his terrified face as he

108