In a remote part of Siberia, the Lykov family endures the harsh realities of isolation. Follow their story as it unfolds to see their impressive fortitude. This family of Old Believers escaped religious persecution in Russia. They didn’t just leave society; they spent decades living in the backwoods, off the grid and totally cut off from civilization. Living a life filled with struggles, survival and hope, their story illuminates what it means to be human in pursuing existence alongside the power of nature.
Starting in the 1930s, the Lykov family began an extraordinary odyssey deep into the wilds of Siberia. This tight circle consisted of Akulina, her husband Dmitry and their children: Karp, Savin, Natalia and Agafia. They fled the Soviet regime’s repressive policies directed towards their religion. As with the settlement of the Americas, as they moved deep into the Siberian forests, they changed from farmers to almost neolithic hunter-gatherers. Their existence was characterized by the gathering of plants and animals, dependence on straw, leather footwear, ski lining, bark and birch buds.
Sadly, the family’s ordeal deepened when Akulina died of starvation. The family’s master tracker, Dmitry Lykov, met his end from pneumonia. He made the decision to not seek medical care, which ultimately cost him his life in the end. Unbeknownst to the Lykovs, an increasing threat was closing in on them in the woods. They started their existence there with a stock of carrots, but mice wickedly ate all their seeds.
The Lykovs kept their distance from the outside world for more than 40 years, resisting all contact with outsiders and their fast-changing society. This decision fostered an auto-centric culture of life that lasted well past the 20th century’s last decades. Agafia Lykov, the last surviving member of her family, had never seen a wheel. She was equally unprepared for the comforts of modern life. Her experiences with non-Indigenous people were few, limited to occasional geologists who came through the region. We don’t know why her brothers Savin and Karp died. Others think they became sick from new diseases brought in during their short encounters.
The family’s speech and behavior bespoke their complete separation from the outside world. It was hard for outsiders to get a read on Natalia and Agafia. Their strange lexicon and odd delivery cadence threw everyone off guard. This linguistic barrier only served to highlight their alienation from the rest of society.
Agafia demonstrated remarkable resourcefulness. She once described their sustenance strategy:
“Rowanberry leaf, roots, grass, mushrooms, potato tops and bark … Every year we held a council to decide whether to eat everything up or leave some for seed.” – Agafia Lykov
Their existence was an even greater delight to the bureaucratic functionaries, to whom it became an object of mission their non-existence. By the 1990s, they’d become little more than a living museum exhibit or retired dancing bears moved to a wildlife sanctuary. Anthropologists and journalists fell in love with their lifestyle. You can dive into their discussion right here on the nuances of human resilience in a harsh geography.
Karp Osipovich’s disdain for outsiders was evident in his words when he referred to Peter as “the antichrist in human form,” reflecting the family’s deep-seated beliefs and fear of external influences. This spirit of resistance dovetailed with their desire to save their culture and religious beliefs from corruption by modernity.
Akulina was an indelible force in guiding her kids’ education during the family’s isolated existence. She taught them to read and write in Old Church Slavonic using a stick dipped in honeysuckle juice on birch bark. This cultural instruction proved essential for preserving their identity as Old Believers while living so far removed from civilization.
Agafia Lykov, the last remaining member of her family, is still alive today. To survive, she must venture out into the dystopian world that has emerged since her family’s exodus into the backcountry. On a recent trip to meet with Old Believer nuns, she made a stop in Abakan. The town’s apartment buildings must have felt jarring to her after a lifetime of ostracization.