By Lorraine Mallinder
BBC World Service - From Our Own Correspondent
29 July 2011
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By Lorraine Mallinder
"You’re not one of the census people are you?"
Margaret Hofer comes waddling towards me, face stern. In her 16th century peasant’s garb, she cuts a surreally old-fashioned figure against the bright white communal housing block. Her two daughters, identically attired in long skirts and polka dot headscarves, stare from the balcony.
I’ve just stepped into a time warp in the middle of the Canadian prairies, a Hutterite farming colony to be precise. Founded in Austria some five-hundred years ago, this spiritual sect was long persecuted before crossing the ocean to find peace. Completely isolated from the world, they still speak their Tyrolean dialect.
Satisfied I’m not a government spy, Mrs Hofer leads me inside her unit. Big Daddy is Jacob Hofer, a thick-set fellow with a big beard. As minister, he is top dog of the Green Acres colony. He eyes me steadily as I take in the spartan interior. "We don’t believe in possessions," he says, as if reading my mind.
We make acquaintance over bran muffins and milk. Like the surrounding prairie landscape, life here is monotonous. Three times a day, a bell summons the colony for meals in the communal mess. "We all eat the same. There’s no ordering," barks Hofer. Children receive four hours of German tuition a day. Pre-schoolers are able to recite entire verses of the scriptures in German, he says proudly.
"What do you do for recreation?" I ask. "More scriptures!" replies Hofer, with alacrity.
Throughout the conversation, his daughter Julia winds a plump baby with pale blue eyes. It occurs to me that this new addition to the colony is probably genetically identical to her Tyrolean ancestors. New blood isn’t welcome here. Indeed, there are just two surnames on the colony - Hofer and Kleinsasser. The sect is a subject of endless fascination among geneticists - according to one study, the 50,000 Hutterites in colonies across North America can all trace their ancestral lines back to just 21 individuals.
Green Acres sells its pork to China, but barring business affairs, there are few lines to the outside world,. What about the youngsters? Don’t they get cabin fever? Occasionally, a rebel or two might run away to work for the tar sands industry. "But, they always come back," says Hofer. "They discover the outside world wasn’t as good as they thought, especially when they have to pay for everything."
At one point, Julia pulls off her polka dot scarf, undoing her chignon to show off her lustrous locks. Hutterite women never cut their hair, I’m told. I notice a big bald patch on her crown. A religious custom? No, it seems that many Hutterite women go bald as a result of permanently wearing their hair in a tight chignon to provide the apparently fashionable bump under their scarves.
There’s no denying the Hutterites are an oddity. Wilfully marooned in the middle of nowhere, stuck in another time, they are the butt of cruel jokes among outsiders. But they don’t seem to care. Later, Hofer tells me his people are prepared to die to preserve their ways. "They can murder your body, but they can’t murder your soul," he reflects.
"Read the Acts! The Acts!" he bellows, rushing me out the door, which he more or less slams behind me. As I drive off, I chance a goodbye wave at the closed door. I think I can detect the movement of a hand behind the glass, but can’t be sure.