Elena Kirt: Coming to Estonia made me realise how good it feels to be Udmurt

After 27 years in Estonia, Elena Kirt has found a home while continuing to take pride in her Udmurt roots. Balancing her career, family, and cultural advocacy, she passionately celebrates and shares her heritage alongside her life in Estonia.

Elena Kirt, a 44-year-old Udmurt, has called Estonia home for a significant portion of her life – 27 years, to be exact. Together with her Estonian husband, she is raising a son. With her vibrant and warm-hearted demeanour, Elena is currently working as a marketing project manager at the Estonian Association of Information Technology and Telecommunications. She has a deep passion for learning and self-improvement, and still finds time to enthusiastically introduce Udmurtian culture to Estonians. Having settled in Estonia, Elena takes immense pride in her roots.

The Udmurt Republic is about the size of Estonia and is striving to preserve its ancestral faith and traditions while existing under the influence of Russia. What is Elena’s relationship with Russia? “I’ve never related to Russia,” she says resolutely. “For me, Udmurtia is its own country. It was only during my school years that I realised Udmurtia is part of the Russian Federation. When people ask me where my homeland is, I immediately think of my grandmother sitting by the edge of a potato field, shawl on her head, walking stick in hand – right where the asphalt ends – waiting for me. That is my homeland. My homeland is the way my grandmother smiles when she sees me approaching,” she continues.

Estonia strengthened her identity

Elena grew up in the countryside, where her family kept two cows. But at just 12 years old, she declared firmly that she would neither learn to milk cows nor remain in the village. Her mother pursed her lips, but the real shock came when, at 18, her daughter found a way to study at the University of Tartu in Estonia.

“At 17, I spent a year at Udmurt State University in Izhevsk. You could apply to study in Estonia if you were already enrolled in a university. Moving from the countryside to the city in Udmurtia, I felt a societal pressure to become someone else. But when I arrived in Estonia, I said, ‘Thank God, I’m Udmurt!’ When I returned to Udmurtia for summer holidays, I was so proud of my ethnicity that I spoke loudly in Udmurt on public transport. I felt a warm glow inside – I had found myself. I am Udmurt!”

Elena arrived in Tartu when the Estonian language courses for foreign students had already been running for a month. “I didn’t understand a word of what the teacher was saying in Estonian. I even had money to return home and didn’t unpack my bags for two weeks. But there were Udmurts living in the dormitory on Narva Road, who had come through the same programme as me. They convinced me to stay, saying that Estonia wasn’t a bad place to live at all. From the Russian perspective, Estonia felt like the West – a place to visit with interest. Komi, Mari, Mordvins, Karelians – we had a strong Finno-Ugric community during our university years. Decades later, when we meet, we fondly recall those times. We were like a family, celebrating holidays, going on trips – everything was done together,” Elena reminisces.

Elena dancing at the XXVIII Võru Folk Dance Festival “Ööst öhe.” Photo: Private collection.
Elena dancing at the XXVIII Võru Folk Dance Festival “Ööst öhe.” Photo: Private collection.

The Udmurt community in Estonia

In Estonia, the Udmurt population has decreased by 13 over the past decade. New Udmurt students are not arriving. “Those who came to work here during the Soviet era are now elderly, and many have passed away,” Elena explains. “Globally, the number of people identifying as Udmurt is also declining. Census data from 10 years ago recorded 600,000 Udmurts, but today the figure stands closer to 350,000.”

Reflecting on Udmurts in Estonia, Elena notes, “I can immediately tell who wants to genuinely embrace being Udmurt and who just wants to perform it on stage. When I wear traditional clothing, I fully embody Udmurt customs, following everything my grandmother passed down. For instance, as a married woman, I must cover my hair and wear protective charms on my clothes. I don’t do this in everyday attire, but when I wear traditional dress, I instinctively follow every custom and rule.” She chuckles at some girls who, during cultural events, perform with their hair loose, admitting that it slightly bothers her to see Udmurt traditions disregarded in such contexts.

Elena estimates that more than half of the Udmurts in Estonia speak or understand the Udmurt language. “Unfortunately, I don’t have exact statistics. Personally, I speak Udmurt over the phone with relatives back in Udmurtia. In Tallinn, there’s also the Udmurt ensemble Ošmes, which translates as ‘Spring.’ They meet every Friday to practise and learn new songs in Udmurt. I communicate with the ensemble members exclusively in Udmurt – it’s natural for me to speak my mother tongue, no matter where I live in the world.”

Elena Kirt with Pavel Kutergin, the leader of the Udmurt ensemble Ošmes, and Ljubov Arhangelskaja, the soul of the ensemble and a bearer of Udmurt culture. Photo: Private collection.
Elena Kirt with Pavel Kutergin, the leader of the Udmurt ensemble Ošmes, and Ljubov Arhangelskaja, the soul of the ensemble and a bearer of Udmurt culture. Photo: Private collection.

Finno-Ugric Days showcase Udmurt culture

Estonia hosts annual Finno-Ugric Days, where audiences can enjoy authentic folk songs, traditional music concerts, lectures, and more. Udmurts proudly present their cultural heritage at these events. Elena herself is regularly invited to schools to speak about Udmurt traditions. “I used to offer my services, but now the invitations come to me – I no longer need to seek opportunities,” she says.

She fondly recalls returning home through Tallinn after one such event, dressed in full traditional attire, including jingling accessories, and riding an electric scooter. In addition to Finno-Ugric Days, Udmurt culture can also be explored at events like Tallinn Old Town Days, the Baltica Festival, Tallinn Music Week, and the Martinmas Fair.

Both Estonians and Udmurts belong to the Finno-Ugric family, connecting them linguistically with Hungarians, Sami, Karelians, and others. But listening to Elena speak in Udmurt, most Estonians wouldn’t understand a word. Still, it’s a beautiful language. “By the way, Udmurt uses the Cyrillic alphabet with 33 letters, plus five additional ones with diacritics. It was only five years ago that I realised this is somewhat similar to Estonian!” Elena laughs. She appreciates Mush Nadi (Nadezda Pchelovodova), an Udmurt writer who has translated works between Udmurt and Estonian. In 2015, with the support of the Estonian Language Institute, an Estonian-Udmurt dictionary was also published – a milestone Elena celebrates.

A unique blend of temperaments

According to Elena, the Estonian word jäääär (ice edge) best characterises Estonians. “I still struggle with pronouncing the letter ‘ä,’ and in my eyes, that letter perfectly represents Estonians,” she laughs. “When I’m speaking and not thinking about the fact that a word has an ‘ä,’ I pronounce it just fine. But if someone asks me to say a word like jäätis (ice cream), I immediately freeze!” she explains, adding that jäääär is a unique word for any foreigner. “It’s hard to pronounce, but at the same time, it sounds beautiful.”

In Elena’s view, Estonians are marked by a cool and reserved temperament compared with Udmurts. “Estonians are not as open and tend to be more inward-focused. To me, the word äär (edge) describes Estonians as a cautious people. They often avoid expressing their opinions, shy away from attention, and prefer to remain restrained and practical,” she shares candidly.

Living in Estonia suits Elena. “At first, I was startled by Estonians’ cool demeanour. But over time, I’ve noticed that Estonia is changing, and multiculturalism has played a big role in that. I try to bring a touch of Udmurt warmth here. For example, if I see someone on the street with beautiful hair or a nice coat, I’ll go and tell them. It’s a small thing, but it makes a difference.”

According to Elena, wearing traditional clothing makes her fully embody her Udmurt identity, following everything her grandmother passed down to her. For example, as a married woman, she must not show her hair. Photo: Private collection.
According to Elena, wearing traditional clothing makes her fully embody her Udmurt identity, following everything her grandmother passed down to her. For example, as a married woman, she must not show her hair. Photo: Private collection.

Kumõška an inseparable companion to village life

With a smile, Elena speaks about Udmurtia’s well-known moonshine culture.

She acknowledges that this “tradition” holds a notable place in her country. “My Estonian friends always look forward to my mother’s homemade kumõška (a type of homemade distilled spirit). Every Udmurt woman has her own kumõška recipe, so the taste of the drink always varies. My mother’s kumõška is smooth and generous,” she praises.

“I grew up in a village where people work hard all year round, and you could say that kumõška is an inseparable companion to village life. Whether it’s planting potatoes or chopping firewood, kumõška is always on the table. If a neighbor’s cow has a calf or a son gets married, kumõška is served again. When my Estonian friends visited my parents for the first time, they were a bit surprised by how much the villagers could drink of this strong spirit! Of course, alcohol is not a good thing, and it’s important not to become dependent on it, but life in the village is what it is: people work hard and drink kumõška.”

Elena also notes that in Udmurtia, there’s a common saying: “If you don’t drink, you don’t show respect.” She believes this might have been adopted from Russian culture. “At funerals, for instance, a glass of kumõška is placed on the table, and every guest must take a sip,” she explains, adding that this is how respect is shown to the deceased.

“My mother stores this drink in glass jars to preserve its taste,” she points out. “In the past, kumõška was often made in large quantities for storage. At my sister’s wedding, my mother brought out a seven-year-old batch of kumõška that had been stored in a thick glass container and buried deep in the ground.”

When asked how often she visits Udmurtia, Elena says she makes the journey by car every year. “It’s 2,200 kilometres to Udmurtia. As you get closer, the landscape changes – it starts to look like southern Estonia, with small hills and winding, picturesque roads. On our first visit, my Estonian husband remarked, ‘What a beautiful landscape, culture, and homeland!’”

The article is part of the media programme “Estonia with many faces,” which highlights the richness and diversity of Estonian culture. The programme is supported by the Estonian Ministry of Culture and co-financed by the European Union.

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