‘Boys and men put on heavy bear costumes, often made of real fur, and make their way to a stage – where a Gypsy with a knife cuts them open to let a demon out’

The Bucovina and Moldova regions in the north-east of Romania are rich in traditions and ancient customs. Lots of towns and villages host winter festivals and parades; one of the biggest is the Festivalul de Datini și Obiceiuri Strămoșești (the festival of customs and ancestors’ customs) in Comănești on 30 December. Different groups come from miles around to participate, and it has become best known for its bear dancers: groups who process through the streets in bear costumes, often made from real animal furs, some as much as 50 years old.

The bear was a sacred animal in ancient Romania. It’s thought that the tradition of dancing bears originated many centuries ago among the Roma who would visit villages just before New Year with real bears on leashes to dance and chase away bad spirits from the outgoing year. When the country was under communist rule, it was banned; bear dancing was made illegal in 1998; and, when Bulgaria and Romania joined the EU in 2007, the last of the dancing bears were bought from their owners and “retired” to a bear reserve in the Rila mountains.

As well as the “bears” in Comănești’s festival, each group will also have someone playing the “Gypsy” and/or “The Bear Tamer”, plus musicians with drums and panpipes. Everyone dances and sings as they go through the streets, making their way to a stage where they act out a simple ritual scene in which the bear collapses because a demon is inside him. The Gypsy comes with a knife and bleeds the bear, lets the demon out and the bear revives. It’s a story of rebirth for the new year. In some versions of the tradition, the bear, the Gypsy and the drummers also go from house to house in the village, singing and dancing to ward off evil and bring good luck.

The boy is wearing a real bear skin that would have been very old and very heavy and very hot

I didn’t go to the festival as a child. Photography has helped me discover my country in a fuller way. I live in the UK now but have been to Comănești and the region five times over the past decade to photograph the festivals. This shot was from 2013. It’s mostly men and boys who dress up in the bear skins, but I have seen girls, too. The boy is wearing a real bear skin that would have been very old and very heavy – some of them weigh up to 50kg - and also very hot.

It’s really hard to shoot a procession. You can either sprint ahead and wait for the group, or walk backwards in front of them. I prefer that way, but you can’t then see where you’re going and I’m always praying I’m not going to step on something or trip.

I’d spotted this boy earlier – sometimes the dancers take the masks off because they get too hot – and was struck by something about his expression. There are lots of photographers at the event, so the boy knew I was shooting him but didn’t take any notice of me. He was flushed because he’d been dancing and running all day, and there was this one moment when he was looking in my direction. I didn’t realise at the time I’d got such a good shot.

When I photograph, I’m always so immersed in what I’m doing that I don’t stop to consider what I’ve taken. I just try to get as many shots as possible – if you stop you risk missing things. You never know what’s round the corner. When I look at the photo now, the only thing I regret is the lack of snow. There’s usually snow on the ground at the time, but climate change is affecting Romania’s weather like everywhere else, and the snow often comes in March rather than December/January.

This picture has changed my life. It won a National Geographic award, and part of my prize was a trip to the Maasai Mara

This picture has changed my life. It won a National Geographic Traveller UK competition. Part of my prize was a trip to the Maasai Mara, where I’d always dreamed of going. It has brought me international recognition and commissions, and has also helped make the festival famous all over the world. It’s even live on Facebook these days. I heard about someone coming from Japan to see it. Last year, I met the mayor of Comănești, and to my amazement he gave me a big hug!

I’m fascinated by traditions and costumes. In a costume you can be something other than yourself. In recent visits to the region’s winter festivals, I’ve also focused on a portraiture series, asking people in their colourful costumes to pose for me in front of a mobile studio. I came across one bear costume made entirely of reeds that weighed 100kg. Other costumes (there can be horses, deer and goats as well as bears) are made of rags or paper, while some people paint their faces or wear really elaborate masks or pointed hats that are a metre high.

Many Romanians who work abroad return each year specifically to take part in the winter festivals – it’s how they express and celebrate their cultural identity. There’s always an amazing vibe in Comănești. I dance, too – you feel so much energy. Whenever I photograph, whatever my subject, I try to bring a good energy to it, but here it was easy.

• See more images at Alecsandra Raluca Drăgoi’s website.

Alecsandra Raluca Drăgoi’s CV

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Photograph: Alecsandra Raluca Drăgoi

Born: Iaşi, Romania, 1993.

Trained: BA in photography, Portsmouth University; MA in documentary photography and photojournalism, Westminster University.

Influences: “My mother, Annie Leibovitz, Henri Cartier-Bresson, Lynsey Addario, David Bailey, Alex Webb, the Magnum agency.”

High point: “Winning the Sony awards’ youth category in 2013 and National Geographic Traveller UK in 2015. These prizes helped me believe in my passion and helped me prove to others that I can make it in this career.”

Low point: “Because I am young, slightly short and a woman, sometimes I feel I have to work twice as hard at the beginning of a session or when teaching just to prove I am good at what I do.”

Top tip: “Even if you have packed up your kit and the scene and light changes, always ask politely to take a few more frames. Better ask, rather than regret not taking that photograph. Also, never stop learning and training your eye.”