Latvian masked processions

Mask processing tradition in Latvia Folk masks from rural Latvian mask processions, 1920s-1930s. A drawing by J.A. Jansons. Latvian folklore repository of the Institute of Literature, Folklore and Art of the University of Latvia Ķekatas, 2019 Budēļi, 2023 There is a number of regional variants of Latvian masked processions. Rooted in ritual traditions, by the end of the 19th century, they started losing their religious meaning turning more into an entertainment and gradually they were disappearing, kept by small groups of enthusiasts in some rural regions of Latvia. With the rise of the folklore movement by the end of the 1970s these traditions were revived, and there are several folkloric groups that are trying to reconstruct these, in cooperation with researchers. Ķekatas (Ķekatas iešana, "stilt walking", "stilt strolling") is a Latvian folk tradition of masked processions. The participants, called Ķekatnieki (singular: Ķekatnieks) wearing various masks went from one homestead to another giving blessings and driving away evil spirits. Since the old times they happened in autumn and winter, when all farmers' work is done any time from St. Martin's Day to Meteņi, depending on the region. The tradition is also associated with Christmas time, similar to mummering-like traditions in other places. In fact, one of the names of the mask procession tradition is kaļadas, borrowed from Slavic Koleda. Other names used in other parts of Latvia include budēļi and čigānos iešana (gypsy walking). These traditions differ not only by the name, but the behavior as well. Masks represented evil beings, animals, objects (haystack, sheaf), people, often stereotyped (little man and tall woman, pauper/beggar, gypsy, Jew) The gypsy walking, mostly with gypsy masks, but also with other Ķekatas masks is also associated with festivals and wedding parties. The name of the Zemgale tradition "budēļi" comes from the word "budīt", "budināt" - to awaken, arouse, and the meaning of the tradition is to awaken the nature and people during the spring holiday of Meteņi to a new life cycle. Folklorist Jānis Alberts Jansons collected testimonies from rural people about masked processions during the 1920s and 1930s, which served as the basis of his doctorate, Die lettischen Maskenumzüge und ihre kulturhistorische Bedeutung, some parts of which were published in German and known only by enthusiasts. Only in 2010 his findings were published in full in Latvian under the title Latviešu masku gājieni: eksperimentāls pētījums ar pamatojumu salīdzinošajā etnogrāfijā un etnoloģijā (Latvian Masked Processions: an experimental study grounded in comparative ethnography and ethnology). An important contribution to the understanding of the tradition is Aīda Rancāne's 2009 volume Maskas un maskošanās Latvijā (Masks and Masking in Latvia).

The timing of Ķekatas isn’t a coincidence. When the harvest is packed away and the fields lie fallow, rural families have a rare lull in labour. This downtime made it practical for masked groups to wander from house to house, delivering good wishes and a dose of communal drama. In the darker weeks between St Martin’s Day and Meteņi, the colourful costumes and noisy rattles acted as a morale boost, turning the bleak winter landscape into a moving stage. The ritual’s original purpose – driving away spirits – also fit neatly with the season’s superstitions about lingering ghosts, giving the tradition a dual function of protection and entertainment.

If you’re keen to see Ķekatas in action, start by checking local folk‑festival programmes in Latvia’s rural regions – many groups now perform in villages that welcome visitors. Dress warmly; the processions often take place outdoors in December, and the participants themselves add to the chill with their lively dances. Respect the masks: they’re not props but cultural symbols, so avoid touching them unless invited. Photographers should ask permission before snapping close‑ups, as some performers prefer anonymity to preserve the mystique. Finally, bring a small gift of bread or sweets; traditionally, households offered food in return for the blessings, and a modest offering is welcomed as a nod to the custom.

The term čigānos iešana, loosely translated as “gypsy walk”, can mislead outsiders into thinking the tradition is borrowed from Romani culture. In reality, Latvian masked processions predate any documented Romani influence and stem from indigenous agrarian rites. The name likely emerged as a colourful nickname, reflecting the bright costumes rather than any ethnic ownership. Misusing the label can obscure the genuine Latvian roots and the painstaking scholarly work that has reconstructed the rituals. When discussing the tradition, it’s safer to refer to the specific regional names – Ķekatas, Budēļi or Kaļadas – which keep the focus on the local heritage rather than a vague, potentially inaccurate stereotype.