A Weekend Out of Town
Before the end of the first term, I went to a cottage/hostel on a farm, in a small, nowhere village in the woods near Jyväskylä, not terribly far from Tampere, but a decent drive away from any place substantially populated. The roads in the town were mostly unpaved, save the main road leading out of the area. I went with Yvonne and Katerin, friends from Germany.
It was such a contrast, given the urban feel of Tampere, no matter how small the city is. It was dark, dreary and quiet, and the locals gave off the kind of uncomplicated, peaceful air that such people commonly do. It was just what we wanted, a quiet, peaceful place in the middle of nowhere with a sauna. Given the price we paid, we were surprised how accommodating and nice the place was, with a wood-burning sauna, a cozy interior and a lot of space.
We spent most of our time walking around through the empty woods, taking photographs and exploring the area. It was really quite nice.
I don't recall exactly how long we were there, but on the morning of one of the full days we spent, we woke a little late and on preparing to leave, saw a ruckus a small distance from our cottage/hostel, in a barn that was part of the farm. We creeped slowly to the barn and on getting closer, the matron of the place approached us and said they had caught an elk that morning, that it was shot by a young kid and that the elk happened to be pregnant. “You can get closer and look,” she said. We ran and grabbed our cameras.
It was a strange sight. This huge, hulking beast of an animal, hanging, mostly skinned and massive, from a large pully, connected to a metal bar pushed through the leg joints of the animal’s hind legs. There was about 8 men dancing around the elk, excitedly though rather precisely, skinning and preparing the animal. There were more men standing around watching then working, perhaps all preparing for the day they might shoot one themselves.
They looked at us questioningly at first, and seemingly irritated, while our host cleared our identities, which affected a few “welcome to our woods” smirks and passing looks of curiosity. They were consumed by their task though. At first my stomach turned and I wanted to walk away from there, but, of course I was lured to this strange sight, both because I have never seen a live elk let alone a dead one, but also because of the strangeness of the whole procedure.
The worst part was when a man pushed a wheel-barrow up to the animal while a couple men cut down its chest, allowing the stomach to slip, noisily and grotesquely from the animal, filling the entire wheel-barrow to the brim. I was about to walk away then, but we all just kept watching, fascinated. Strangely, it was clear after some moments, this was something so old and human, and almost natural. It was not so strange after only a few moments. One thing which was not so nice, however, was the discovery of two babies in the stomach of the elk, and, we being the foreign observers, they brought them up to us, almost as if it was an offering. “Here you go our revered guests.”
They usually don't shoot pregnant mom elks, but the kid was young, he didn't know. We took photos, but I didn't want to post those of the babies. They were in a small, clear fluid sack, about the size of my hand, and almost looked like they had beaks. I did decide, however, to post photos of the elks and men working on them. At first I was not going to, and asked a few friends what they thought, was it wrong or not to post such photos.
I decided however it was too interesting and not disturbing or perverse enough to leave un-posted. I do apologize though, to any who may think it is wrong or offensive to post such photos. I had one friend who said it was gross and would be wrong, leaving me to believe that someone else will also feel the same. I don't feel it is an exploitation of anyone or thing and I believe the photos are not so bad.
Moreover, the situation became more strange and mentionable (and post-able), as on our return later that night, after having walked the day in the woods, they had caught another elk, a rather unusual circumstance. Perhaps we were their lucky charms. We brought the spirit of the hunt. I couldn't help, but imagine the spirits of the elk raging in woods that night, big, dead and searching for their hunter, raging through the woods, making loud, dead elk sounds. It was so dark and the wind was blowing a bit. It was all quite surreal.
My resolve to not hunt was only confirmed after the trip, and I felt like I had gotten a slice of an old way of being human that has been lost to the urban dwelling masses. Even more so, it was a nice weekend away from Tampere and my student-housing cage.
It was such a contrast, given the urban feel of Tampere, no matter how small the city is. It was dark, dreary and quiet, and the locals gave off the kind of uncomplicated, peaceful air that such people commonly do. It was just what we wanted, a quiet, peaceful place in the middle of nowhere with a sauna. Given the price we paid, we were surprised how accommodating and nice the place was, with a wood-burning sauna, a cozy interior and a lot of space.
We spent most of our time walking around through the empty woods, taking photographs and exploring the area. It was really quite nice.
I don't recall exactly how long we were there, but on the morning of one of the full days we spent, we woke a little late and on preparing to leave, saw a ruckus a small distance from our cottage/hostel, in a barn that was part of the farm. We creeped slowly to the barn and on getting closer, the matron of the place approached us and said they had caught an elk that morning, that it was shot by a young kid and that the elk happened to be pregnant. “You can get closer and look,” she said. We ran and grabbed our cameras.
It was a strange sight. This huge, hulking beast of an animal, hanging, mostly skinned and massive, from a large pully, connected to a metal bar pushed through the leg joints of the animal’s hind legs. There was about 8 men dancing around the elk, excitedly though rather precisely, skinning and preparing the animal. There were more men standing around watching then working, perhaps all preparing for the day they might shoot one themselves.
They looked at us questioningly at first, and seemingly irritated, while our host cleared our identities, which affected a few “welcome to our woods” smirks and passing looks of curiosity. They were consumed by their task though. At first my stomach turned and I wanted to walk away from there, but, of course I was lured to this strange sight, both because I have never seen a live elk let alone a dead one, but also because of the strangeness of the whole procedure.
The worst part was when a man pushed a wheel-barrow up to the animal while a couple men cut down its chest, allowing the stomach to slip, noisily and grotesquely from the animal, filling the entire wheel-barrow to the brim. I was about to walk away then, but we all just kept watching, fascinated. Strangely, it was clear after some moments, this was something so old and human, and almost natural. It was not so strange after only a few moments. One thing which was not so nice, however, was the discovery of two babies in the stomach of the elk, and, we being the foreign observers, they brought them up to us, almost as if it was an offering. “Here you go our revered guests.”
They usually don't shoot pregnant mom elks, but the kid was young, he didn't know. We took photos, but I didn't want to post those of the babies. They were in a small, clear fluid sack, about the size of my hand, and almost looked like they had beaks. I did decide, however, to post photos of the elks and men working on them. At first I was not going to, and asked a few friends what they thought, was it wrong or not to post such photos.
I decided however it was too interesting and not disturbing or perverse enough to leave un-posted. I do apologize though, to any who may think it is wrong or offensive to post such photos. I had one friend who said it was gross and would be wrong, leaving me to believe that someone else will also feel the same. I don't feel it is an exploitation of anyone or thing and I believe the photos are not so bad.
Moreover, the situation became more strange and mentionable (and post-able), as on our return later that night, after having walked the day in the woods, they had caught another elk, a rather unusual circumstance. Perhaps we were their lucky charms. We brought the spirit of the hunt. I couldn't help, but imagine the spirits of the elk raging in woods that night, big, dead and searching for their hunter, raging through the woods, making loud, dead elk sounds. It was so dark and the wind was blowing a bit. It was all quite surreal.
My resolve to not hunt was only confirmed after the trip, and I felt like I had gotten a slice of an old way of being human that has been lost to the urban dwelling masses. Even more so, it was a nice weekend away from Tampere and my student-housing cage.
posted by Paul Quillen at 10:36 PM
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