Although not as well known as other traditional Latvian holidays, Ūsiņi has a charm of its own, not the least of which is its cute name. The name makes one think of ūsas (whiskers), but is actually the name of the old Latvian patron of horses: Ūsiņš. Ūsiņš also symbolizes the dawn and light, and he is said to bring leaves to the trees and greenness to the grass in the spring. In other words, he is the bringer of the goodness of spring.

Ūsiņi marks the halfway point (May 10) between the spring equinox and the summer solstice, and as such it heralds the beginning of summer. In some places of Latvia Ūsiņi is instead celebrated on April 23, which is actually the day for the Jurģi celebration. Jurģis is another Latvian patron or deity, who in some places has melded together with Ūsiņš. Some researchers consider Ūsiņš and Jurģis to be two different names for the same deity, Ūsiņš most likely being the older of the two. Their respective celebrations are quite similar and thus are fairly interchangeable.

One tradition, though, belongs exclusively to the Jurģi celebration: moving day. April 23 used to be the day when the contracts of the farm help ended and they were then free to arrange work elsewhere and therefore to move away. Many beliefs are associated with moving; for example, if it rains on Jurģi, then the movers will be doomed to cry the whole next year at their new home. Another belief states that one is not supposed to say goodbye to anyone while moving to a new home at Jurģi, otherwise things will not go well at the new place.

The livestock were traditionally put out to pasture at Ūsiņi for the first time after the long winter. This occurred not only in Latvia, but also in many other agrarian cultures of Europe. Likewise, at this same time horses were put out to night pasture for the first time (they worked the fields during the daytime). Children typically worked as daytime shepherds (gani), while older boys and young men stayed with the horses, taking turns staying awake through the night to guard them from wolves. This mostly enjoyable nighttime activity was called pieguļa, and it was believed that Ūsiņš also took part with his own horses. Many songs associated with the Ūsiņi celebration revolve around horses, pieguļa, livestock, and wishes for Ūsiņš to help people during the coming summer, especially concerning their horses. An interesting note: the best horse of a herd was often named in honor of Ūsiņš.

After the usual feast, the Ūsiņi celebration continued later into the evening, when it was time to take the horses out to pasture. Many people joined the boys and men on this first night of pieguļa. They gathered around the campfire, sang, danced, ate and drank—activities that would keep the boys and men awake during subsequent nights at pasture. The best known Ūsiņi food is pentags, scrambled eggs with sausage. Of course, this one-dish meal happened to be very easy to prepare over a campfire in the pastures!

Just as at the spring equinox, Lieldienas, eggs play an important role at Ūsiņi, presumably because they symbolize life and the return of the sun. In some areas of Latvia shepherds and pieguļnieki were given eggs to take along with them—as many eggs as there were horses’ legs, or as many eggs as there were cows to take out to pasture. Sometimes the eggs were colored, especially a black color. One of many recorded rituals involved a person lowering a boiled and colored egg from the reins of a horse’s bridle into the hole left by a post pulled out of the ground. This was believed to insure that the horses would stay calm while at pasture. In another ritual eggs were put in an oak tree hollow to make the horses as strong and hardy as oak trees. In general, most Ūsiņi rituals, not only the ones done with eggs, were done to insure that the livestock and horses stay healthy for the coming year. Some of the old rituals even involved sacrificing a rooster.

Although not necessarily associated with Ūsiņi, there is a specific type of singing, called rotāšana, that is sung only in the spring, and only by women and girls. The song refrains, appropriately, consist of the word rotā, and songs with this refrain are sung only until a couple of weeks before the summer solstice, Jāņi, when the līgo-refrained songs take their place (which in turn are sung only until and during the Jāņi celebration, and not a day afterwards). The rotā songs are to be sung out in the open, not indoors, and preferably atop a hill. The perfect time is a calm, warm spring evening, when the voice carries particularly well and the fingers and toes do not get cold too quickly. When singing in a group, as it is usually done, one singer assumes the role of “sayer” (teicēja). She sings the verse first, while the others listen and learn the text. Then the whole group repeats the verse, some singing variations of the melody, others singing a drone accompaniment. When the teicēja tires or has run out of texts, another takes her place. The texts vary a lot, and are often improvized on the spot. Rotā melodies tend to be slow, yet often quite ornamented.

Girls and women sing rotā songs out of joy for the spring and for once again being able to sing together out in the open. But it is said that young men used to pay close attention to the singing from neighboring farmsteads and sometimes chose the best singers for their brides. Unfortunately the traditional way of singing rotā songs has pretty much died out, although plenty of the melodies and texts have survived in folk song collections.

In late autumn—October and November—when the leaves have fallen, the field work is done and the weather is often foggy, there is time for reflection. This time of year, once the wolves begin to howl, in traditional Latvian culture is called Veļu laiks (“the time of the spirits”) or sometimes Dievaines.

The same term or variations of it, such as Veļu vakars, is also used to denote a specific day of remembrance and of honoring the deceased. This is not really a traditional Latvian holiday in the sense of solstices and equinoxes. It doesn’t even fall on a specific date. Rather, Veļu vakars, a very personal and private doing, can take place anytime during mid- to late autumn.

Because of the obvious parallel with the “dying” of the natural world, autumn is associated with death all around the world, and therefore also with remembrance for the dead. Take the Christian All Saints’ Day (Nov.1), the Celtic Samhain (Oct. 31), the Mexican and Central American Dia de los Muertos (Oct. 31-Nov. 2) and the Chinese Ghost Month (August-September).

Whereas in some cultures the topics of death, dying and the afterworld are avoided—if not all-out feared—Latvian tradition tends to view death as a very natural thing. Latvians do not deny that death is sorrowful (sorrow is also a natural part of the world), but they usually do not dwell on the sadness. Death is sad for the survivors, of course, but it is generally not feared. Death is just life, or energy, passing on to another level.

Latvians usually divide the person into three parts: the physical body (augums), the soul (dvēsele) and the spirit (velis). Latvian tradition has no dogmatic definition about the afterlife, but it is often believed that upon death, the physical body returns to the earth, the soul returns to God to live in an otherworld often called “the other side of the sun” (aizsaule), and the spirit continues to live for a while in a parallel universe. The spirits’ lives in this parallel universe pretty much mirror their past lives here: farmers continue farming, women weave and sew clothing, children herd pigs. Unmarried spirits can even find mates and get married there: a folk verse says that if it rains while the sun is shining a spirit wedding is taking place.

Besides veļi, there are several other regional names for the spirits of the deceased, such as leļi, iļģi, ķūķi, vecīši, pauri and ēni. Spirits are not considered scary or evil. Rather, they are viewed as our memories of the dead, the leftover waves of energy of the deceased, or as go-betweens between the body and soul or between the living and the dead. Spirits are thought to eventually fade away, just as memories fade over time. When invited, though, as is usually done in the autumn, the spirit of a dead person is said to be able to come back to This Side to visit, thus forming a close and intimate bond between the generations.

The deceased were for the most part remembered only among their own families and local communities, and therefore Veļu vakars was usually a very personal and private occasion. Because of that, the actual customs varied a lot from household to household, and there are few historical descriptions of them. Some Latvian communities today have developed their own traditions based on what can be gleaned from folk songs and other folklore materials.

For example, at Dievsēta—a center organized by the Dievturi folk religion in Wisconsin—we gather every year in October for veļu laiks. Before dinner we take time to invite the veļi to join us for the evening. First we invite the spirits of well-known Latvians whom we have known and respected (authors, artists, community leaders, teachers). Then we pass a small object like a smooth stone or a candle from person to person around the table. As each person takes the object, they invite the spirits of those people whom they personally would like to invite. This is done without pressure—the person may do it silently or out loud, and they may even elaborate and tell a story about a deceased neighbor or relative. Once all of our veļi have been invited, we set out food for them to eat and proceed to eat dinner ourselves. Then we sing, visit and play games. In other words, we spend a sincere evening with each other and with the spirits.

Although this evening is on the whole quieter and more serious than other Latvian holidays, and there usually are some teary eyes, the overall mood is not somber or dispairing. As at a traditional Latvian funeral, singing and dancing and laughing are not at all out of place and are considered appropriate. A well-known folk song states, “Sing while you take me to the cemetery, do not cry, so that my soul will sing as it goes to meet God.” After all, we are remembering people’s lives and all the joy that they gave us.

First thing next morning we go back and eat up all of the food that the spirits have left uneaten and we shoo the spirits back to the Otherworld. We welcomed them to visit with us, but we understand that they do not live here on this side of the Sun anymore and that they must return to the other side, or else they might eventually cause harm.