The Eighth Tribe, 1977 (4. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1977-10-01 / 10. szám
Page 8 THE EIGHTH TRIBE October, 1977 some of its remnants are still part of Magyar folk beliefs and customs today. The origins of shamanism among the Magyars reach back several thousand years into the Ugor and Finno-Ugric period of their history. But in the centuries immediately before the Magyar conquest of the Carpathian Basin, this shamanism had already developed into an “ongon cult,” and had also been influenced by such monotheistic world religions as Christianity, Islam and Judaism. Shamanism — named after its priests, the shamans, who were known as táltosok (sing, táltos) to the Magyars — had its distinct set of beliefs and its own cosmos. The latter was built around the so-called “World Tree” (világfa) or “Tree of Life” (életfa), which in Magyar folktales is usually preserved as “The Tree that Reached up to the Sky” (égigérő fa), or “The Tree with a Crest that has no End” (tetejetlen fa). The three parts of this giant tree — its roots, its trunk, and its crest — were connected with the three sections of the ancient shamanistic cosmos. Its roots reached down to the Nether World (alvilág), which was a world of darkness and shadows that teamed with all sorts of reptiles, toads and evil spirits. The Middle World (világ) was connected with the World Tree’s lower trunk, and it was the scene of human existence, the valley of transitional life that connected the lower and the upper parts of the cosmos. The crown of the World Tree reached beyond the sky into the Upper World (felső világ), which was the dwelling place of the gods and of the good spirits. But the branches of the World Tree also held the sun and the moon — a belief that was unknown to the ancient Indo-Europeans who also believed in a kind of World Tree. To the Magyars, the World Tree (the Tree of Life) was the very life and soul of the entire universe. It held the cosmos together. “Its fruits, its fragrance, the resin oozing forth from under its bark, the juices trickling down from its leaves, and the Spring of Life bubbling forth from its foot gave birth to and nourished all life on earth.” (Dienes: Hungarians, p. 54). While the three worlds that were connected with the three parts of the World Tree were sealed off from one another, some contact between them was still possible. But this contact could he established only through the medium of a few chosen men, who were designated to fulfill certain special roles from the moment of their birth. Called shamans (táltosok), they were endowed with special magical powers to communicate with the world of the spirits and with the mysterious forces of the Upper and the Nether Worlds. 56 I spent a weekend at one of these resorts, — it almost seemed like I was back home in Toluca Lake, a suburb of Los Angeles, — with its green lawns and variety of colorful flowers. The children were playing Cowboys and Indians, complete with teepee and costumes, including the guns. But, they play so quietly, you don’t even know that they are around! I thought, it must be the strict discipline they get used to in school and at home. My friends took me sight-seeing all over Budapest. There are six bridges over the Danube, connecting Buda, with its historic, old forts and citadels high in the hills, and Pest, on the other side of the river, — the busy and gay part of the city, where all the shops, theatres, restaurants, with their gypsy musicians, are to be found. I indulged in a bit of nostalgia, — recalling and singing some of the old Hungarian folk songs, learned long ago at my grandmother’s knee. A great many statues, throughout the city, depict the nearly one thousand year history of this unique people, living in the middle of Europe, amidst the Slavic, German and Latin nations, with a language and culture all their own, which has stubbornly survived in spite of all the wars and occupations by its various neighbors. During the summer, the city is full of tourists from all over, speaking every language, including Japanese. My camera was busy trying to capture the impressive buildings, wide boulevards and beautiful parks, of which there are a great many, — the largest being Margaret Island, in the middle of the Danube River, with its famous spas. After a couple of weeks in Budapest, I took a side trip into Transylvania. It had been a part of Hungary, called Erdély, until the Romanians annexed it after the first World War. It still has about two and a half million Hungarian inhabitants, who are trying to keep their national and cultural identity alive. We drove through the countryside, which struck me with its contrast of the old and the new. We saw many peasant houses, a hundred years old, with their woven stick fences and ornately carved and decorated tall gates. The wooden benches in front of the houses are where the old peasant women, usually dressed in black full skirts and blouses, with black kerchiefs on their heads, can be seen crocheting and embroidering intricately designed blouses, table cloths, etc., for the tourists who happen by. Their wares are all hung up on display and we stopped to buy some beautiful peasant costumed dolls. The State allows the traditionally independent Hungarian peasants a bit of “Free Enterprise,” and they are permitted to sell their produce and arts and crafts in the cities as well as along the road, at the best prices that an experienced tourist can maneuver. The modern buildings, — villa-type houses, office buildings and garages, showed that the twentieth century had, indeed arrived, — even in Transylvania. We saw diesel trucks and automobiles speeding past the hay wagons, with the driver sitting high up on top of his load of hay, wearing the traditional peasant vest, tight black pants, white shirt and pointed peasant cap. It was like a backward glance into the days before the machine age. The gypsies still have their covered wagons, — and the whole family lives in them. I spotted a couple of gypsy women drawing water at a spigot on the road. We stopped and I got out of the car, so that I could take their pictures in their colorful gypsy outfits. One was a very pretty young girl and when I told her that I was from America, — California, — she looked blank: she had never
