As to the toumo master, he runs no risk as long as he respects the rules—which are not designed for people with weak lungs! Competitions are held to measure the strength of toumo champions. For example, a competitor sits in the snow: the radius that the snow melts around him is a measure of the amount of heat he generates.
Isn’t there some link between the rhythmic pace of the lounggom-pa lamas and the pace of the wild man? Is it outrageous to suggest some similarity between the two modes of motion? The mechanical pace, the speed of displacement, the ability to follow a path without detour, are also characteristic of the movement of the unknown creatures reported in Asia.
Further, the size of the footprints, sometimes out of proportion with the bulk of the creature, suggests a strong heat ow: the snow has melted, expanding the size of the footprint.
The suggestion that the yeti might be confused with a hermit was put forward as early as 1935. A few years later, in 1958, the German missionary and physician Father Franz Eichinger stated that the abominable snow men were actually hermits living in the upper reaches of the Himalayas. They lived as the Christian saints used to and devoted their existence to prayer and the healing of the sick.
The assimilation of hermit and yeti is also mentioned in some tales gathered by Nepalese historian and folklorist Kesar Lall. In one of these stories, a lama tames a yeti and shelters it in his refuge. The yeti hunts and shares the meat he catches. When the yeti dies, victim of an avalanche, the lama cuts up its body to feed the vultures, as tradition demands. The lama then preserves the head of the yeti, supposedly still shown today at the Pangboche monastery.4
In 1980, a group of young women skiing among the high peaks in neighboring India encountered a holy man, naked, unaffected by the cold. An Indian journalist then commented that the word yeti was derived from yati, a hermit, a being free from all social bonds, without distractions and material protection, as pointed out by Kesar Lall.
There is thus clearly a relationship between religious man and wild man.
The wild man is widely feared and is to be avoided. Just seeing it brings bad luck. Sometimes the witnesses are subject to uncontrollable bouts of terror and die within weeks of the encounter. One should remember that the yeti is also called dremo, a demon in Tibetan. For Alexandra David-Néel, Tibet is indeed the land of demons. Numerous and complex rites govern relations with these demons.
Today, in spite of political turmoil, Tibetans and a few visitors continue to frequent the sacred places. The Yerpa
North European (sami) shaman, 1767. Illustra on: Public domain
Valley draws pilgrims, philosophers and poets, and all who are attracted by the sacred places of meditation. Visitors acclimatized to the altitude (4000–4500 meters [13,000–15,000 feet]) recognize in the men or women walking clockwise around a chorten, cranking a prayer mill, fellow seekers of inner peace; language barriers vanish.
The Yerpa Valley, about 16 kilometers (10 miles) north of Lhasa, is peppered with caves that used to shelter hermits. Some date from the days before introduction of Buddhism. Caves are hallways to spirituality and continue to be seen as important centers of meditation and spiritual energy. Tibet is still the land “where the inhabitants believe in demons and Bodhisattvas and where Dakinis walk across the sky.”5
This transition from the world of the living to that of the gods, from the material to the spiritual, is most unsettling to our rationalist attitude, especially since that transition takes place without warning, as part of the everyday life of Tibetans. To draw a boundary between the concrete and the invisible would not make sense to them. For example, materializations, to take one phenomenon among many others, are of interest but do not trigger enquiries, interrogations or efforts at “scienti c” explanations. Phenomena that to us may appear extraordinary do not upset Tibetans’ “accepted ideas about the laws of nature and what they say regarding what is possible and what isn’t.”6
The old Bon religion, as well as the different forms of Buddhism, seem extraordinarily complex to western eyes. Their concepts are to be absorbed gradually, over suf cient time. The yeti’s existence deserves to be considered equally from the perspective of Tibetan mystical practices.
There remain within the human soul unknown regions, as there remain unexplored areas of the world. Some lands vibrate with the voices of the gods: the mountains of Tibet, the great forests and deserts. In Tibet, there are as many gods whose presence may be felt as there are high peaks. Sometimes the gods are expelled by brute force and the sacred places are destroyed. Villagers, travelers and pilgrims then place branches festooned with colored banderoles uttering in the wind, so as to honor the god who protects the pass or the valley. Villagers seek those “secret valleys,” refuges of persecuted humans and their gods.
Of course, material evidence is particularly important in attesting the survival of the wild man. However, some data may be interpreted as part of religious elements. Until the 1930s, remains of almass were to be seen in some Mongolian monasteries. Odette Tchernine reports the words of the old man who saw the remains of an almass
xed to the ceiling of the Barun Hüre monastery. The same old man told her that in another monastery there lived a lama famous for his learning. He was called “Son of the Almass,” for his father, who was also a learned lama, had been captured by almass. The son was born of his union with a female almass. Having escaped with the child, the father and his son were picked up by a caravan. The son also grew up to be a learned man.
One last look at Tibet: Reinhold Messner’s travels have served as a pretext for our search for the wild man in neighboring countries. Let us now return to the land where he started his quest. As we have seen, the information that he gathered in Tibet shows a strong resemblance to what he found in neighboring countries.
In the spring of 1991, as we recall, Messner was on a yeti expedition in the company of three members of a German television station. He had stopped to view the carcass of a yeti at the Gangtey Gompa. A closer look led him to conclude that the hands as well as the legs came from the body of a child aged eight to nine years. However, a mask took the place of the face. As Messner explained:
Over there, the peasants are descendants of Tibetan nomads whose religion—Lamaism—is lled with tantric imagery. Their beliefs, as those of shamanism, joins all aspects of nature—water, air, wind, clouds, re and love—to the divine. Without doubt, the Yeti belongs to that animistic vision of the world.7
The visit to that monastery left Messner puzzled. Why would the erudite lamas preserve a myth of shamanic origin so foreign to the rational world? Could it be an antithesis to human beings, a symbol of brutality at the antipodes of civilization? Messner couldn’t gure it out. He concluded that it was only in such Himalayan lands that the yeti could have survived.
In the French version of his book, Messner shows a picture of two carcasses, one being a yak, the other a chemo, both hanging from the ceiling near the entrance of the Sosar Gompa. The chemo with his erce teeth and claws is easily capable of killing a yak and tearing it to pieces. According to Messner, that chemo, or dremo, or yeti, is a kind of particularly powerful brown bear.
That would be a plausible conclusion outside the context of the ancient religion: in this case, the yeti is simply a zoological entity. However Messner realizes that he is dealing simultaneously with an animal and a myth:
In these lands, where to everything there corresponds another half—as per the principle of yin and yang—the yeti is also seen as a dual being, each half of which, the mythical and the real, is truly alive.8
Messner attributes a particular importance to the antique religious phenomenon, going perhaps all the way back to the prehistory of the Himalayan region. Shamanism is at the very core of this tradition and should not be seen as a super cial phenomenon, and we should thank Messner for drawing our attention to shamanic practices. Perhaps he knows more than he tells us? Why would he emphasize discoveries that turned many of his admirers into ferocious critics? We
strongly recommend Messner’s work to the reader: it is the account of a traveler who has crossed Nepal, Tibet, Bhutan, China and Mongolia, traveled among the Kirghiz and Kazaks, as well as in India and Pakistan. Many readers have been struck by the strength of his work and by the aura of truth that surrounds it. Messner’s words are in harmony with those of the investigators who came before him and whose works are fundamental to understanding those countries.
1 Alexandra David-Néel, Mys ques et Magiciens du Tibet, p. 85.
2 Alexandra David-Néel, op. cit., p. 226.
3 Alexandra David-Néel, op. cit., p. 232.
4 See Kesar Lall in Lore and Legend of the Ye , p. 3.
5 Alec Le Sueur, Running a Hotel on the Roof of the World, p. 199. In Tibetan Buddhism a bodhisa va is anyone who is mo vated by compassion and seeks enlightenment not only for him/herself but also for everyone. A Dakini is a female embodiment of enlightened energy, dancing across the sky.
6 Alexandra David-Néel, op. cit., p. 255. Her words remain as relevant today as when she wrote them.
7 Reinhold Messner, My Quest for the Ye , p. 100.
8 Reinhold Messner, op. cit. 100.
This remarkable pain ng of a ye by the noted Canadian ar st Robert Bateman is possibly very close to what the creature actually looks like. There are no photographs of the ye , so any images are based on descrip ons by people who have claimed to have seen it. Bateman is one of the most, if not the most, famous naturalist ar sts in the world—his insights into the possible likeness of a ye are signi cant. PAINTING: © Robert Bateman
In 1966 Bhutan issued these stamps showing ve di erent views of the ye . The stamps re ect both mythological aspects and aspects of reality. There can be no doubt that the creature is deeply woven into the culture of the region. PHOTO: Author’s le
This intriguing illustra on for the ye appears to be very old. The third image is said to show the way in which the creature sleeps. This rather odd sleeping posture has become
common knowledge, so we might conclude that the creature has been actually observed as it slept.
PHOTO: Author’s le
An alleged skeletal ye hand. Analysis of the hand in the late 1950s and 1960s was inconclusive because agreement was not reached by the several professionals who analyzed it. Modern methods would probably provide rm results, but unfortunately the hand was stolen. PHOTO: Fortean Picture Library
A plaster cast (copy) of what is believed to be a ye footprint. The print was in snow and the cast (original) was made from a photograph. Given this is the nature of a ye ’s foot, it can be assumed that the creature is quite di erent from other Asian hominoids. The cast measures about 12 inches (31 cm) long. PHOTO: C. Murphy
One of three alleged ye scalps. One
of them, likely this one, was sent for
professional analysis and determined to be made of the skin of a serow (member of the goat-antelope family). The other two scalps, said to be 350 years old, have not been examined. Nevertheless, it has been assumed that they were likely of the same nature. Possibly one of the two is authen c. Certainly, if one monastery had a scalp, then others would want one also, which could lead to a scalp (or several) being fabricated. In me, they would all take on the same signi cance—that of a genuine relic. Photo: Fortean Picture Library.
Ar s c depic c depic inch (39 cm) footprint possibly made by the hominoid (Tien Shan, 1962). The fact that the almasty has not been photographed is somewhat understandable because of its remotve domain, and people in rural Russia don’t o en carry cameras. PHOTOS: Author’s le
Dr. Marie Jeanne Ko mann carefully li ing a gluetreated track which is shown below with a ruler. It measured about 10 inches (25 cm) long and was found (one is a series) in the Dolina Narzanov Valley, North Caucasus in 1978.
Generally speaking, the almasty is not an exceedingly tall creature like North America’s sasquatch. However, in both cases human-size tracks have been found which are likely those of younger creatures or smaller adults.
In the 1800s and rst part of the 1900s, the almasty was o en seen in rural Russia. Some people had great compassion for it and le out vegetables and other food items for it to take. These people were not aware or concerned with the scien c implica ons of the creatures’ existence so did not obtain any physical evidence. Although there are s ll sigh ngs, it is believed the almasty popula on has greatly diminished. PHOTOS: I. Bourtsev
Igor Bourtsev, a prominent Russian hominologist, is seen here comparing a casts of a possible almasty footprint to his own foot. The cast measured about 14 inches (36 cm) long. The print from which the cast was made was one in a series found in the Pamir– Alai Mountains (Tajikistan Republic) in 1979. Boutsev was heading an expedi on in this region and the group discovered the footprints one morning about 70 feet (21.4 m) from their tents. PHOTO. I. Bourtsev
101 Zana, the Russian ape-woman (or almasty)
is seen here in this remarkable artwork
by Branden Bannon. Zana was captured,
trained to do simple chores, and later
abused by several men during wild drinking
bouts. She had “normal” babies, four of
whom survived to adulthood. Zana died in
the 1880s or 1890s. People where she
lived remembered her when they
were ques oned in 1962.
PHOTO: B. Bannon
Igor Bourtsev examining the skull of Khwit
(seen on the right), Zana’s youngest son (1964).
Bourtsev a empted to nd Zana’s remains for
scien c evalua on, but was unable to locate
her grave. He thereupon exhumed the remains
of Khwit (died 1954; grave was de nitely
iden ed) for the same purpose.
Russian scien sts determined that Khwit’s
skull was di erent from that of ordinary
humans, however, the American scien st, Dr.
Grover Krantz, said that it was that of a fairly
normal human being.
DNA (obtained from a tooth) indicated
that Khwit was human. This whole issue begs
the ques on: Could the almasty simply be a
di erent type of human? PHOTOS: I. Bourtsev
An old Chinese drawing of what is believed to be yeren. The wri ng in the top right hand corner states: “Xin Xin is small and likes to bark. [Xin Xin] lives in the mountainous ravines, resembles an ape, has human face and limbs, head hair is long, the head and face are put straight. Its voice is like the crying of an infant and the barking of a dog.” PHOTO: Public Domain
A contemporary depic on of the yeren. There have been some unusual stories about this creature. One such story reported in the World Journal (Taiwan paper, October 1997) tells of a woman who stated she was abducted by a “wild man” (assumed to be a yeren) and had its child. Video of the child, at age 33, indicated that he had a small head and what appeared to be a kind of tail. The ar cle went on to state that his body shape, arms, and legs, were similar to those of the North American bigfoot. However, he did not have any no ceable long hair. It was stated that the Chinese wild man has been recorded as far back as 100–200 BC, also that a “monkey-boy” was discovered in 1932, but its existence was not reported un l a er it had died. PHOTO: Author’s le
Dr. Zhou Guoxing, the noted yeren authority, is seen here (center) with Dr. Grover Krantz and his wife, Dian. Dr. Krantz, who was highly involved in sasquatch research, went to China in 1995 to explore the yeren ques on. Like the ye , almasty, and the sasquatch,
rm scien c evidence of the yeren’s existence has never been obtained. PHOTO: G. Krantz
19. Looking Back: Marie-Jeanne Koffmann
We have drawn repeatedly on the writings of poet and essayist Odette Tchernine in the 1970s. It is easy to forget that she was one of the rst to write seriously about the wild man in Russia and Asia. She introduced the works of Professor Porchnev and Dr. Marie-Jeanne Koffmann to English-speaking readers. Her spirited style and the w
ealth of information she presents are widely acknowledged. English poet John Heath-Stubbs paid homage to her in a poem entitled The Yeti:
“Brother,” he grunted, “who have called yourself Sapient, and me abominable —
Your sapience is the knowledge of good and evil. My breakfast and my lunch are mountain lichen, Or sometimes I can catch a calling-hare; But never took a bite of that apple.
Well, when you have torn yourselves apart,
And split the world in two, we will be standing, Ready to take over — and at the door of history, there waits Another Eden, the same poison-tree.”1
This poem brings to mind Marie-Jeanne Koffmann, an example of Umberto Eco’s aphorism “The history of scientists offers more romantic possibilities than that of ordinary people.”2
The life of Marie-Jeanne Koffmann is a real novel. Born in Paris in a French family, she joined her father who was actively involved in the Russian revolution. At the age of 18, she became, unwillingly, a Soviet citizen. During the war, she led a battalion of mountain troops in the Caucasus, and then became a researcher at the Academy of Medicine of the USSR. Her double citizenship was enough to attract the attention of the KGB and send her to the Gulag for seven years. Regaining her freedom, she became a general surgeon in Moscow and participated in expeditions in the Pamir Mountains where she developed an interest in the snowman. As a member of Russian learned societies, Marie-Jeanne Koffmann bene ts from a pension: 120 rubles a month, the equivalent of three French francs (1992; less than one Euro!). In recognition of her double citizenship, France has awarded her the RMI,3 which she found “splendid.”4
This short biographical notice was part of an article about the 1992 Franco–Russian expedition of which Marie-Jeanne Koffmann was the scienti c leader. A team of videographers, under the direction of producer Sylvain Pallix, accompanied the expedition and produced a documentary: Almasty. Yeti du Caucase (TV Channel France 3, February 13, 1993).
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