shamanic singing more interesting than maths.’ He turned and looked at me. ‘Ever heard of it?’
I shrugged. ‘Sounds weird.’
‘It is. Anyway, I hadn’t heard of it,’ Hannu went on, ‘until about a year ago. I met this man from the north, from Lapland. I’ve already told you that’s where I’m from. Originally, I mean – I’ve been away a while. And, so my dad told me, I was one of the modern Laplanders, not into Santa Claus and chasing reindeers and stuff. Certainly not into singing and magic. That’s why I wanted to go to Helsinki, I guess, to live in the modern world. Anyway, I was lucky. For this job at the Wild School they send you on these expeditions. So there I was, back in Lapland doing this training course. We were often going on hikes in nature. There was a big group of us, but me and this old Laplander usually walked at the same pace. Slow. Maybe it was the car crash did that to me, but I like to go slow now. Anyway, me and him were on a long hike through parts of Lapland – huge lakes, dark forests, bear and elk and reindeer. You should go there if you can, Niilo. It’s magical.’
‘I’m a prisoner, remember?’ I said, but for once it didn’tcome out bitterly, more like a joke. I clamped my wrists together, like they were handcuffed.
‘Oh, yeah,’ Hannu said with a laugh. ‘I forgot. Anyway, me and him got talking, and one night we shared smoked salmon and rye bread under the midnight sun. That’s when he told me about the shamanic singing. They call it “yoiks”, or wild songs. It’s a kind of singing. It’s like, everything and everyone has their song. But some people don’t know their song. Or they lose it. And it isn’t only people who need a song. It’s animals too. Even trees and stars and everything. So me and this Nils – that was the man’s name, a bit like yours – we finished off the bread and then he said: Hannu, my brother, I give you your wild song! See, I’d told him my story, of losing my memory. It was like I had lost part of myself. And something told me this Nils was about to give the lost part back to me. Like my dad had done with his stories and photos, only more.’
I didn’t say anything. After that big speech Hannu didn’t either. He fell quiet, like he was trying to remember his wild song.
‘So?’ I said finally.
‘Well, it was strange. The old culture, they have a different language, so I didn’t understand the words. Like I said, after I lost my memory it was like my past vanished. The old man looked at me for ages, then he closed his eyes and next thing he started chanting. It sure wasn’t your average pop song. But when he sang in this strange voice I could feel his song putting me together.’ Hannu gazedout to sea, like he was remembering it all, way up there in the far north. Then he looked at me. ‘It felt as though I had been kind of broken before.’
‘Sounds pretty weird,’ I said. Except it didn’t. Not deep down. People could get broken, and random stuff like songs could put them together again.
‘It was weird. But in my bones I understood it, and in my heart. Maybe this sounds mad to you, Niilo, but it was magical. Because afterwards, after he had chanted this song, all the time in this strange language, and sometimes making movements with his arms, I felt better. A whole lot better. Better than I’d felt for years. I was pretty lost, you know. Yes, my dad had helped. Sure he helped. But there were still missing bits. A kind of emptiness. The wild song filled that.’ Hannu paused, like he was hearing that strange wild song again. ‘And it wasn’t long after that trip I met Saara.’
Next thing he was going to tell me when he was leaving. I had heard enough. I stood up, gripped my toes over the jutting edge of the rock and jumped into the sea.
‘Before the trip to Lapland I was so afraid of getting close to someone.’ Hannu was standing on the rock, shouting. ‘Do you know what that means, Niilo?’
I heard
I shrugged. ‘Sounds weird.’
‘It is. Anyway, I hadn’t heard of it,’ Hannu went on, ‘until about a year ago. I met this man from the north, from Lapland. I’ve already told you that’s where I’m from. Originally, I mean – I’ve been away a while. And, so my dad told me, I was one of the modern Laplanders, not into Santa Claus and chasing reindeers and stuff. Certainly not into singing and magic. That’s why I wanted to go to Helsinki, I guess, to live in the modern world. Anyway, I was lucky. For this job at the Wild School they send you on these expeditions. So there I was, back in Lapland doing this training course. We were often going on hikes in nature. There was a big group of us, but me and this old Laplander usually walked at the same pace. Slow. Maybe it was the car crash did that to me, but I like to go slow now. Anyway, me and him were on a long hike through parts of Lapland – huge lakes, dark forests, bear and elk and reindeer. You should go there if you can, Niilo. It’s magical.’
‘I’m a prisoner, remember?’ I said, but for once it didn’tcome out bitterly, more like a joke. I clamped my wrists together, like they were handcuffed.
‘Oh, yeah,’ Hannu said with a laugh. ‘I forgot. Anyway, me and him got talking, and one night we shared smoked salmon and rye bread under the midnight sun. That’s when he told me about the shamanic singing. They call it “yoiks”, or wild songs. It’s a kind of singing. It’s like, everything and everyone has their song. But some people don’t know their song. Or they lose it. And it isn’t only people who need a song. It’s animals too. Even trees and stars and everything. So me and this Nils – that was the man’s name, a bit like yours – we finished off the bread and then he said: Hannu, my brother, I give you your wild song! See, I’d told him my story, of losing my memory. It was like I had lost part of myself. And something told me this Nils was about to give the lost part back to me. Like my dad had done with his stories and photos, only more.’
I didn’t say anything. After that big speech Hannu didn’t either. He fell quiet, like he was trying to remember his wild song.
‘So?’ I said finally.
‘Well, it was strange. The old culture, they have a different language, so I didn’t understand the words. Like I said, after I lost my memory it was like my past vanished. The old man looked at me for ages, then he closed his eyes and next thing he started chanting. It sure wasn’t your average pop song. But when he sang in this strange voice I could feel his song putting me together.’ Hannu gazedout to sea, like he was remembering it all, way up there in the far north. Then he looked at me. ‘It felt as though I had been kind of broken before.’
‘Sounds pretty weird,’ I said. Except it didn’t. Not deep down. People could get broken, and random stuff like songs could put them together again.
‘It was weird. But in my bones I understood it, and in my heart. Maybe this sounds mad to you, Niilo, but it was magical. Because afterwards, after he had chanted this song, all the time in this strange language, and sometimes making movements with his arms, I felt better. A whole lot better. Better than I’d felt for years. I was pretty lost, you know. Yes, my dad had helped. Sure he helped. But there were still missing bits. A kind of emptiness. The wild song filled that.’ Hannu paused, like he was hearing that strange wild song again. ‘And it wasn’t long after that trip I met Saara.’
Next thing he was going to tell me when he was leaving. I had heard enough. I stood up, gripped my toes over the jutting edge of the rock and jumped into the sea.
‘Before the trip to Lapland I was so afraid of getting close to someone.’ Hannu was standing on the rock, shouting. ‘Do you know what that means, Niilo?’
I heard
Similar Books
