Laskiainen festival celebrates 75 years

A vipu-kelkka (whip sled). PALO - I took a ride out to Palo’s Loon Lake Community Center recently to chat with the folks preparing for the 2012 Laskiainen Sliding Festival coming up next weekend (February 4-5).

Local historian Gerry Kangas gave me a tour of the Loon Lake Museum, which is bursting with artifacts and documents that tell the story of the lives of Finnish immigrants to the area. The history of the Laskiainen Sliding Festival, now in its 75th year, is told via stories, photos, decades-old whip sleds (vipu-kelkka), toboggans, saws, and examples of traditions followed for centuries by Finns as they heralded in the end-of-winter at Shrovetide.

On a wall there is a map of Finland, and Kangas showed me the villages where her and her husband’s ancestors are from, and where they have visited. On a table under the map is a book for visitors to sign, and pins to mark where their homeland in Finland is, should they know it. The book holds the signatures of visitors from across the state, region, nation and around the world.
 

A (very) brief history of Laskiainen, Finnish Sliding Festival:

Laskiainen is generally associated with Shrove Tuesday (the day before Ash Wednesday), but in fact has its origins in pre-Christian times. Laskiainen (meaning “to slide down”) was originally a flax festival. Because of its great importance and value, much folklore and legend evolved around the spinning of linen.

Gus Hakela brushes the pulla in preparation of this years Laskiainen. Photo by Jean Cole. Laskiainen marked the end of the spinning (and knitting) season. It also marked the beginning of the season of light and the time to begin weaving (spinning could be done in low light, while weaving required more light). At Laskiainen, spinning wheels were put away.

The sliding was also a part of the linen ritual. The farther your toboggan flew, the taller your flax would grow and the longer your linens would be. As they slid, the people would shriek out magic rhymes calling for long linens for themselves and only short fibers for the neighbors. They also had cries for other crops, such as turnips, peas, or rutabagas. If your toboggan capsized, the summer’s flax crop would be flattened.

Laskiainen was also known as Rasvatiistai, or Fat Tuesday, since the foods eaten were rich with fat, the greasier the better. Eating a lot of bacon would make the flax grow tall; serving your guests bread with plenty of fat would insure that your flax would be disease-free. The fat was also used to grease the sled runners to make them travel farther.

By Laskiainen, men had to have all the lumbering and woodworking done in order to be ready for the busy planting season ahead. It was time to repair their fishing nets, and at least one load of manure had to have been hauled to the fields by Shrovetide.

Other countries have similar celebrations at this time of year: In England, it’s called Goodish Day; in Germany, Fastnacht; in Norway, Fastilan; in Sweden, Fastings. The French brought it to Louisiana and called it Mardi Gras. Latin countries call it Carnival. In the Middle Ages, Lent and fasting were more rigorous and these celebrations were the “last fling” before being “shriven.”

“It’s all about their work, and the season and the time to move from one kind of work to another. Their lives revolved around all the work they had to do. It was important to have all of your work done by certain days and times of the year, and then moving on to the next thing,” said Kangas.

After my Laskiainen history primer with Kangas, I was escorted down the hall to the kitchen where a dedicated crew was completing a batch of pulla (Finnish cardamom sweet bread). The baking had been going on for several days, and today they were finishing up, for a total of nearly 500 of the aromatic, golden, braided loaves. They will be served and sold at Laskiainen.

Karen Kiviluoma, 87, has been in charge of the baking for Laskiainen for 60 years. Her heavy Finn accent, boisterous demeanor, and authoritative overseeing of the process was delightful to see and hear. Her crew of bakers were hot and tired, and welcomed the end of their duties on this day.

The youngest baker, Gus Hakala, 26, is from Markham. While he was a baker’s helper on this day, his main responsibility is the preparation of the traditional pea soup for Laskiainen – enough to serve thousands. Sporting an “I fish Bristol Bay” t-shirt and with a bandana-wrapped head, Hakala stood out for me among the others who were many years his senior.

“Why do you do this?” I asked him.

Pause. Then, “Somebody’s gotta do it,” he said plainly.

A resident of Markham, Hakala remembers coming to the Loon Lake Community Center with his mother, Yolande, from the time he was a kid, to help with Laskiainen preparation. It’s a family and community tradition, and is special to him.

I asked Hakala what he does when he’s not volunteering; did he work somewhere?

“Well, I spend most of my time in Alaska. I work for a phone company there. They said I could have a full time job, but what I do is, I work there [most of the year], then come home just before deer hunting season, and I stay until Laskiainen.”

Cool, I thought. He stays until Laskiainen.

“I like it, I get to spend a lot of time in the bush, and I get to come home at [the best time of year],” he said.

Hakala walked with me behind the center to show me the festival’s sledding hill that was just completed the previous weekend, thanks to a local crew of 17 volunteers. A cardboard sign at the top of the hill was scrawled with the message “No sledding until Saturday, Feb. 4.” I imagined I could hear the delighted squeals of children and their adult counterparts, echoing off the surface of the frozen lake, floating into the tree line, bouncing off the former-school-turnedcommunity center. I took some pictures, and we walked back to the center, where the rich aroma of just-baked pulla lingered in the hallways.

Those of you who have never attended Laskiainen, I urge you to go. Kids love nothing more than when their parents play with them (doncha know) so, bring the whole family and celebrate the traditions of our Finnish immigrants who are such a rich part of our Iron Range history. Even if you care not a whit about history, this is simply good old-fashioned outdoor fun. Truly, is there anyone who doesn’t love rocketing down a hill on a sled in the moderate temperatures of a Minnesota February?

There’s lots to do when you’re not careening down the sledding hill or hanging on for dear life to the vipu-kelkka. Both days there are horse-drawn sleigh rides, traditional artisans and demonstrations, tori (a marketplace), and the museum to visit (beware, you could be in there all day, it’s so interesting!). To keep you warm there will be traditional (and not so traditional) foods, including kropsu (oven pancakes), Finnish breads, squeaky cheese, moijakka (beef stew), pasties, and hernekeitto (pea soup). And lots of hot coffee!

Please see ad (below) 6 for schedule of events on Feb. 4 and Feb. 5.