From Siberian Myths and Rituals to Modern Christmas
“Is Santa real?”, “Do you still believe in Santa?”, and “What did you ask Santa for?” are the most frequent questions I hear from children in December here in Ireland. While the children keep asking these questions over and over, adults stay busy shopping to fill stockings by the fireplace and ticking off wish lists that Santa is expected to fulfill.
I grew up in a Muslim country, so we didn’t celebrate Christmas in Turkey. However, we did decorate fake pine trees with shiny lights and ornaments for New Year’s Eve. When I was young, I don’t recall any mention of Santa, but I do remember the magic. The presents always appeared suddenly under the tree, as if by magic. Nobody knew who put them there, yet they were exactly what my sister and I had wished for.
How have these traditions evolved into their modern forms?
Let’s start at the beginning…
In the beginning, the Sky God Deer-Tengri saw Mother Earth’s suffering and blew a massive cloud with his mighty breath. The cloud flew toward Mother Earth, collided with the sharp peaks of mountaintops, and split into four pieces. These four fragments came to life, transforming into four Ulu dragons (Ulu means “Holy” in Turkish).
The heaviest of them was the oldest brother Ulu. He was cold, white, and silvery, like the milk of Mother Earth. They named him Kysh—Winter. The younger sister was fresh, vibrant, and life-giving. She was called Chas—Spring. The third Ulu was hot, quick, cheerful, and carefree; they named him Chai—Summer. The youngest Ulu was a beauty, but she was always crying and capricious. They called her Küs—Autumn.
For years, these four Ulu dragons roamed the skies. One day, the Winter Ulu grew tired of flying and lay down on Mother Earth, falling into a deep sleep. When he woke up, he found he was no longer a dragon but had shapeshifted into an ice man. His entire body was icy white, from his frost-covered hair, eyebrows, and beard to his icy robe and staff, which shimmered in ice blue.
People called this ice man Sook-Irey. He traveled across the sky on a sleigh and visited the homes of warm and cheerful people. The warmth of joyful conversation gradually melted his icy figure. The warmer the household, the more evident the melting.
It was believed that serving hot tea and sweets to Sook-Irey and welcoming him with laughter and good intentions would bring the promise of spring after the harsh winter days. However, those who behaved poorly or lacked cheerfulness risked being turned to ice by Sook-Irey.
Among the creation myths I’ve encountered, this one from the Tuvan Turks of Southern Siberia is the first to mention a character who visits people’s homes on a flying sleigh. Sook-Irey might well be one of the earliest forms of the modern Santa.
How the Pine Tree, Reindeer, and Santa’s red Outfit came to be
During the early days of human evolution, when Sook-Irey traveled the skies with his sleigh, the Koryak people lived in the far eastern part of the same land near the Bering Sea.
On the night of the Winter Solstice, Koryak shamans—healers, sages, and seers of their communities—dressed in red garments with white patches and large reindeer leather boots that eventually darkened to black. Their attire was meant to resemble the Amanita muscaria mushroom, which has a red cap with white spots and dark roots. The costume enabled the shamans to unite with the mushroom’s spirit and show their respect for this living being and the guidance it provided.
The shamans would gather these mushrooms, which grew under pine trees. Known as fly agaric in English, these mushrooms are hallucinogenic and also toxic to humans. To reduce their toxicity, the shamans would hang them on pine tree branches to dry. The bright red mushrooms contrasted beautifully against the snow-covered green branches, creating a striking display.
Over time, this practice evolved. Villagers began hanging other natural materials—feathers, painted sticks, and dried leaves—alongside the mushrooms. In cities, decorating pine trees with lights and ornaments became a widespread custom, and eventually, trees moved indoors as part of festive celebrations. Today, artificial trees often replace real ones, but the tradition continues.
Returning to the shamans’ ritual, they would also place the mushrooms in socks and hang them over the fire to reduce their toxicity further. Could this practice have inspired the tradition of hanging stockings by the fireplace? Perhaps.
Yet sometimes, drying the mushrooms on trees or near a fire wasn’t enough to make them safe for human consumption. To solve this, shamans herded reindeer. These animals could eat the mushrooms without harm, and their urine contained diluted toxins that retained the mushrooms’ psychotropic effects. Shamans would drink the urine of the reindeer so they could safely embark on spiritual journeys, experiencing visions that elevated their consciousness.
These spiritual journeys, guided by the Amanita mushrooms, were believed to bring gifts to the community—gifts of wisdom for solving existing problems and planning for the unpredictable future.
After their journeys, the shamans, dressed in their red-and-white attire, would return to their villages. They often entered the yurts—tent-like Siberian homes—through a hole in the roof, as snow blocked the main doors. Once inside, they shared the wisdom and visions they had received, offering guidance to the community.
Today, in our contemporary world, the imagery of red mushrooms persists as charming decorations. An elderly figure in red and white clothing with black boots rides a sleigh pulled by reindeer and descends from chimneys to deliver gifts. However, these gifts are now toys or material items, and the original gift of wisdom and vision seems to have been lost.
Wishing you abundant Solstice blessings and the time and space to remember the gifts within.
References:
Tuvan Legend about Creation of the World » Electronic magazine «The New Research of Tuva»
The Influence of Hallucinogenic Mushrooms on Christmas | Fungi Foundation Blog
Shaman Claus. The story of Santa Claus, as many of us… | by Daniel Moler | Medium
