The article was written by Urszula Abucewicz, a journalist at Gazeta.pl.
The first mentions of masopust festivities date back to the Middle Ages, though the custom itself has pagan roots. Since 2010, masopust parades have been held under UNESCO's protection. These colorful carnival processions, in nearly unchanged form, have survived in the Hlinecko region of Eastern Czechia, especially in towns like Hamry, Studnice, Vortová, and Blatno.
The master of ceremonies is the laufer, accompanied by his "wife" - though don't be fooled by the female costume. Only men over the age of 15 are allowed to participate in the parade.
The vibrant procession also includes Turks, Jews (merchants), a scavenger, a gypsy with a wooden horse, chimney sweeps, and strawmen (chochoły). The participants go door to door, offering blessings of health and happiness in exchange for treats like donuts and alcohol. In the evening, joyful dancing and festivities take place. These colorful carnival parades, involving locals from nearby villages, are organized by the Veselý Kopec open-air museum.
For David Natavicky’s family, masopust has been passed down through generations. First, his grandfather participated in the parade, then his uncle, and now David himself, who has been upholding the tradition since he turned 15. "I watched how much joy my ancestors brought to others, and now I’m happy to continue spreading that joy," he admits. Before becoming the laufer, David dressed as a Turk, which is where all men from Eastern Czechia start their masopust journey.
"A Turk must be unmarried," David explains. In the parade, there are four young men dressed as Turks—two in red and two in blue. Despite their young age, they play an important role. The height of their jumps symbolizes the height of the coming crops. Their dances also represent the joy of winter coming to an end.
David Natavicky is now the master of ceremonies, or laufer. He stands out with his grand hat and humble demeanor. When I ask why he leads the procession, he jokes that it’s probably because of his height. Before the procession can begin, they need the village mayor’s permission. Once granted, the parade moves from house to house, singing, dancing, and spreading joy. As the parade goes on, the participants grow merrier, and the spectators more smeared with soot from the chimney sweeps, who enthusiastically leave black marks on smiling faces for good luck.
One such chimney sweep - David - enthusiastically smears soot all over my face. "For luck!" he shouts before running off to spread more joy. David has been an active participant in the parade for 20 years, starting at the age of 19.
Barely escaping the chimney sweep’s grip, I’m immediately greeted by the grinning Jews. Though it’s hard to tell their expressions since their heads are covered in masks with giant noses. One tries to spritz me with perfume while another pokes a long stick between my legs. That day, everything is done with fertility in mind - fertility of the land, people, and animals, all in good humor.
"I’m a man who buys for 5 crowns and sells for 20," jokes Ladyslaw, who has participated in masopust for thirty years, always in the Jewish costume he inherited from his father. "I’m obligated to bring happiness and do something good for every woman," he laughs. Before donning the mischievous Jewish costume, 46-year-old Ladyslaw spent years as a Turk, jumping high to ensure good crops. "Once a year, you can let go of being serious," he smiles, revealing that in daily life he works as an engineer.
The second "Jew," who prefers not to reveal his profession, is also in a playful mood. "On this day, anything is possible," laughs Józef, who has been involved in masopust for three decades.
As Ladyslaw and Józef continue their antics, I’m surrounded by more masked figures - this time, the chochoły, wrapped head to toe in straw, another symbol of good fortune. I discreetly pluck a long piece of straw, hoping it brings me luck for the year ahead.
The parade also features a wooden horse (kobyłka), dancing now but soon to be symbolically "slain" by the scavenger. "It’s a symbolic end to the old year and the beginning of the new, a representation of winter transitioning into spring," explains David, who had covered my face in soot earlier but now walks beside me. After a short while, the master of ceremonies reads out a will, summing up the past year, and the wooden horse is revived with a drink, returning to the celebration as if nothing had happened.
As the parade ends, the crowd - faces blackened with soot, women laughing, and men increasingly cheerful - feel a bit regretful that masopust is over. But with new energy and good spirits, they can return to their daily lives.
Our journey continues to the Betlém open-air museum in Hlinsko, where traditional log houses from the late 18th century are on display. In one of these houses, Josef Fidler practices a unique craft—he weaves chenille fabrics, known as zinylka, which were popular in the 1930s but discontinued in 1982 because the material was considered too bourgeois.
This unique hand-weaving technique originated in France (hence the name chenille, meaning caterpillar) and found admirers in the Czech Republic, especially in Hlinsko. Before World War II, 3,500 weavers used the chenille technique to make rugs, pillowcases, throws, and scarves.
One day, a woman brought Fidler an old scarf her grandmother had made and asked if he could replicate it. This sparked Fidler’s passion for the craft. Although an old master weaver refused to share his secrets, Josef wasn’t discouraged and taught himself through trial and error. Now, his clients range from women who remember zinylka fondly to those seeking unique additions to their wardrobes, and even government representatives looking for regional gifts. However, such craftsmanship doesn’t come cheap—a scarf costs around 1,800 PLN, and a poncho around 6,000 PLN.