Folk customs beneath Okić
In St Martin beneath Okić, various folk customs were once observed at set times of year, usually tied to religious feast days. Marica Tešija, a professor who taught for many years at the primary school in St Martin beneath Okić, described two that were most characteristic and longest-lived: St George's Day on 23 April and St John's Eve on 24 June. The text is written in the local Kajkavian dialect.
St George's Day
When the forests and hedgerows of Okić turn green, the meadows are scattered with flowers, and the ravines breathe of violets, our village celebrates St George's Day. The shepherds rise early, sling their hatchets over their shoulders and set off into the woods for beech branches. They gather and cut the finest boughs and carry them home on their backs. In some villages these great branches are used to decorate the wells. They hold a branch in one hand, so that their faces are hidden behind it, and in the other they carry a large basket. They line the bottom with straw so that the eggs they collect around the village do not get broken. They go from house to house, singing this song:
Good morning to the master
master and to the mistress,
Master and to the mistress
and to all the household within.
Go, Mare, to the pantry
and bring two or three eggs.
If there are none in the pantry
reach into the little nest!
Reach into the little nest
and bring two or three eggs.
Oh mother, will there be anything?
Give Juraj some eggs
or the hare will get you!
Give Juraj some bacon
so he may cross the mountains!
Give Juraj some wine
so he may not feel the cold!
Thank you, thank you for this gift,
master and mistress.
Master and mistress
and all the household within.
When they bring gifts to the Green George, they give thanks, and the mistress of the house pulls off a sprig and hangs it on her door so that all within might grow and flourish and the household be blessed with good fortune. In the afternoon the shepherds gather on the common pasture, bringing bread and onions with them; they light a great fire, and when only the embers remain they bake eggs in the ashes and make merry long into the evening. Scarcely has one St George's Day passed before they are already thinking ahead and eagerly awaiting the next. That same evening or morning, parties of well-wishers go from door to door, and the mistress of the house must give something to each of them, as the old saying goes:
"Better that a whole village be ruined than that its old customs perish."
St John's Eve
On the feast of St John, at the turning point between spring and summer, when the fireflies appear in the twilight, a song about the growing and working of flax was sung in the area around Sveta Nedelja:
I sowed my flax
on St John's Day itself.
She scolded me, she scolded me,
the mother of Ivan.
I pulled my flax
on St John's Day itself.
She scolded me, she scolded me,
the mother of Ivan.
I beat my flax
on St John's Day itself.
She scolded me, she scolded me,
the mother of Ivan.
I retted my flax
on St John's Day itself.
She scolded me, she scolded me,
the mother of Ivan.
I dried my flax
on St John's Day itself.
She scolded me, she scolded me,
the mother of Ivan.
I scutched my flax
on St John's Day itself.
She scolded me, she scolded me,
the mother of Ivan.
I hackled my flax
on St John's Day itself.
She scolded me, she scolded me,
the mother of Ivan.
I spun my flax
on St John's Day itself.
She scolded me, she scolded me,
the mother of Ivan.
I bleached my flax
on St John's Day itself.
She scolded me, she scolded me,
the mother of Ivan.
I wove my flax
on St John's Day itself.
She scolded me, she scolded me,
the mother of Ivan.
I sewed my flax
on St John's Day itself.
She scolded me, she scolded me,
the mother of Ivan.
I wore my flax
on St John's Day itself.
She scolded me, she scolded me,
the mother of Ivan.
When the meadows around Okić turn white with oxeye daisies, it is time to celebrate St John's Eve. Ten days beforehand, the young men would go into the woods to gather juniper branches and into the vineyards for young vine shoots. They would snap these branches at the knee and pile them up at the village crossroads or on a low hill, so they could be seen from further away. The lads would show off to the girls, competing to see who could break the thickest branch. The pile was left to dry for a week so that it would burn well. Dried juniper branches were sprinkled with a mixture of salt and ash to drive evil spirits away from the bonfire.
The day before St John's Eve, children would go out to gather St John's wort and oxeye daisies and bring them home. St John's wort was tucked under the eaves to protect the house from lightning. At every house the youngest members of the family gathered the daisies, brought them home, and arranged them on the porch in order of age — the oldest member of the household taking the largest flower, the youngest the smallest.
On the morning of St John's Day itself, everyone goes to look at their flower. Whoever's flower has withered will be the first in that household to die. As soon as dusk falls, the youngest Ivan in the village lights a torch at the hearth of the oldest house in the village and carries the flame to the crossroads, where the oldest Ivan is already waiting to use it to kindle the bonfire. The older folk bring their stools, while the young men take up pots, pans and bells and go through the village to wish the Ivans a happy name-day, rattling and clanging beneath their windows. They come to every house where there is an Ivan, sing and make a din:
Come out Ivan, come on out,
Tomorrow is your name-day.
So bring us a litre of wine
and offer some to all of us.
They wish him long life and good health. The name-day celebrant comes outside and invites the well-wishers in, offering them wine. Once everyone has drunk a cup, they move on to the next house. When they have wished all the Ivans in the village a happy name-day, they return to the crossroads where the older folk are already seated on their stools, telling stories and singing St John's songs. Everyone joins hands in a circle around the bonfire, singing and dancing the "Šemička."
Three steps this way,
and four steps that.
Turn around, dear soul,
if you have somewhere to turn.
Three steps this way,
three steps that way,
turn around, šemi darling,
I am fond of you.
I am an orphan,
I have no one,
I have no father, I have no mother,
I have no one (to love me).
My father long ago
went out into the world,
my mother has remarried
up on Zeleni Breg.
Poor little orphan,
do not weep,
you still have those blue eyes
that you so dearly love.
The Ivans are plied with wine; then the older people head home and the young stay on. The Ivans leap over the fire — first the small one, then a larger one is built, and finally the largest of all. Whichever Ivan clears the highest bonfire must be kissed by a girl named Ivančica. Any Ivan who singes his trousers in the attempt is deemed not yet ready for marriage.
In the morning, corn bread was baked in the embers at the crossroads — a loaf so large that every villager received a piece, and all agreed it tasted wonderful. When dawn broke, everyone took a handful of ash from the bonfire and carried it home. The ash was scattered over the livestock, the house and the threshold to drive away devils and serpents from the homestead. Everyone made sure that the night passed merrily and as it should, for the old people say that on St John's Night coins "come into bloom." And so St John's Eve came to a close, and for the rest of the year people would recall how that night had gone.
