Food and songs celebrating St. Martin in a rural village

by Maria Ignacia Fuentes Genta (Chile)

I didn't expect to find Czech Republic

I arrived in Valašské Klobouky on a Monday afternoon, at the beginning of November. The forest was still in autumn colors, and the sun was relatively warm for a few hours. But at night, the village surrounded by hills was seized by the smoke from the wood-burning stoves. When I applied to volunteer in a communitarian educational project, I didn't think about the challenges I was going to face. The language barrier, weather, food, or working with kids wasn't as relevant as my excitement to go to a new place. It took me five trains to get to my destination. Each one was older and smaller than the previous one, and my Internet connection was getting unstable as my trip advanced. Nevertheless, as soon as I met the families, I felt safe and relaxed. Everyone was keen to include me, and the kids were energetic. Surprisingly, I arrived just in time for the St. Martin festivity, an old local tradition for toddlers to welcome the darkness and cold of the new season, encouraging them to be generous. The day before the celebration, I went to work at the outdoor kindergarten. The adults were guiding the storytelling so kids could perform the legend of the saint. I followed clapping and moving, while the rest was singing in Czech. Later, I was like four years old decorating with colorful papers my glass candle lantern, I did my best interacting with the children. Sometimes, smiling, funny faces and noises can be more effective than words. In short, the story says that St. Martin was a wealthy man riding his white horse during a blizzard, and when he found a poor man gave him his coat. Nowadays, to represent this, people must share half of the traditional pastry, which is like a croissant filled with poppy seeds, marmalade or cheese. That's the way you can eat it. Hours before the event, one mum took me to her house to bake the sweets alongside the other mothers. I spent all morning bonding with them, talking and laughing about life, youth, food, and winter. We ended up with eight baskets without using all the homemade delicious fillings. One of the most enchanting moments happened while we're cooking and everyone begins singing in unison old traditional songs that I'd never heard before. I'm from a city in South America, so what I was experiencing was only part of movies until then. After that, I was even more enthusiastic about what was coming. We drove half an hour away from civilization and then walked to the right spot to meet the other thirty families. The landscape around me looked untouched, only hills and sky. The colors changed from dark green to gray as the mist advanced from the forest to the meadows. The only sound was the wind until all the people start singing and lighting the candles in the lantern. From the many songs I heard, the one that stayed with me was about the importance of keeping your inner light alive in the times of darkness and sharing it with people. We started moving down the hill following the road of candle lights as “crumbled bread” calling for St. Martin. It was lovely to see the expression in the small kids when they saw upon the hill their characters performing the tale. While the big ones were trying to figuring out which dad was on the costume. As we moved forward to reach the bonfire, the kids found the pastries and everyone started sharing their half. Because of the night and the midst, I only listen to the children while talking with the parents around the fire. Some of them, sharing their most traditional homemade drink, the famous Slivovice, kind of plum brandy. Because I was the newcomer, I might eat and drink too much that evening. I'm glad I didn't focus on my fears and challenges and was open-minded about what to expect. I had no idea about St. Martin until I got to that place. But now I'm looking forward to sharing with my loved ones back home some of the traditions, especially the food. However, it could be weird doing it in springtime.