Árran Archive: Elaine Hepner Visits Sápmi

by Elaine Hepner

Introduction
    In "1979 my cousins Carl, Ingrid and May wrote to let me know that they were making a trip to Norway visit the descendants of our grandparents. No one else in the family had ever made the trip before. Of course, I was very interested.

    Upon their return, May and Ingrid came to my mother's home and we drove up from Oregon to meet them there. I was very anxious to hear about the relatives and see the pictures.

    My first question was "Where in Norway do they live?" I was surprised to hear they were way up north in reindeer country. Then when they showed us the pictures and I noticed the "costumes" they were wearing, I was confused and amazed. Finally, I quietly said to May, "These people took like Laplanders." She answered, "They are." There was an awkward silence for a few seconds and I finally asked, "Is that what we are?" She said, "Yes, didn't you know that?" I asked "How come none of you ever told me when we were children?" May said, "I thought you all knew it and didn't want to talk about it."
    Instantly I got the picture! My mother had carefully concealed our identity!

    After my cousins left, I approached the subject and asked mother why she hadn't told me. Her answer was "We were teased by the Norwegians in the community when we were children and made to feel inferior to Norwegian. We didn't want you to be hurt like we were, so Sophie and I made an agreement that we would never tell our children who we were." Of course, they both knew that they would both have to keep it a secret, or it would no longer be a secret.

    That was all mother wanted to say. She was very irritated that I told my brother and my children. I am sorry to say that she went to her grave wishing that I had never known.

    Then I became very curious. It's something like just finding out that you were adopted. Who are these people? What are they like? Carl, Ingrid, May (and Carl's wife) brought back a very positive report: the people were wonderful and they had a wonderful time!!

    Bent Balto from Karasjok began to correspond with mother. The letter had to be interpreted. Apparently grandma hadn't spoke much Sami around home or mother had forgotten it. She sent gifts to Mother, some "turned up toed” slippers and craft work depicting Laplanders, but she kept them put away. I gleaned all I could but it wasn't much (at this point, I hadn't heard the term Sami). Mother received a letter saying that Berit had died in the church white she was arranging flowers. I could tell that Mother was very sad about this. I think she was beginning to want to have contact with her relatives.

    She was also very "touched" when she saw the pictures of her uncle's (her mother's brother) tombstone in Karasjok. It read Nits Persen Biti 1869-1946 with the scripture II Timothy 4:7-8 etched on the stone. "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth, there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give to me on that day, and not to me only but also to all those who have loved his appearing." I said, "You know, mother, one day you will be meeting in heaven. Won't you be embarrassed that you didn't want to be identified with him?" She gave to answer. I am sure the question embarrassed her.

    I tried to point out to her that times were different now and no one would give it a second thought that she was from Lapland. However, she never was reconciled! The hurt was still there.

The trip - part one
    The "fairy tale" trip to Norway, and especially Finnmark to get acquainted with descendants of my grandparents is now history! I can hardly believe we did it!

    My cousin Berit Øyfrid Hansen from Sirma whom we met at the Sami 100 year reunion in Poulsbo, Washington, June 1998, invited us to come. I am sure we would never have made the trip without an invitation, so lam very grateful to her. She is a young widow. She operates a dairy that she owns, so is a very busy person. She efficiently organized our whole stay and saw that we were "taken care of."

    Our travel agent (our daughter-in-law) couldn't coordinate our arrival time in Bergen with the departure date on the Norwegian Coastal Voyage. When I told Øyfrid this, she immediately got on the phone and called relatives in Bergen to see if they would "keep" us for two to three days.

    What a wonderful introduction to Norway! Daniel and Kirsten Okland, son Kjell and a niece Berit (staying with them for the summer) really made us feel at home. We stayed at a downtown hotel the first night as Kirsten was in Kirkenes for a teachers' conference. She is a special education teacher.

    When we arrived at the hotel, there was email from Okland's daughter and son-in-law Bente and Ole, introducing us to the family with a letter and pictures. They speak perfect English.

Kirsten and Daniel do not speak English. She is Sami from Karasjok, he is Norwegian. When Kirsten and Daniel walked into the hotel lobby, we recognized each other immediately, but neither of us had practiced anything to say. We smiled and hugged each other. Hugging is a universal "language." We spent the afternoon seeing Bergen. It's a beautiful day – don't miss it if you are making a trip to Norway.

    They had a Norsk English dictionary, and with gesturing, we got along quite well, however we purchased a dictionary as soon as we could. It sure helped to have one in both back and front
seat of the car.

    Kirsten had dinner all planned at home. While there, they introduced us to reindeer meat, cloudberries, a berry juice and a pudding which we hadn't tasted before. Their son and niece were home in the evening. They interpreted for us which made conversation much easier.

    The next day Kirsten and Daniel took us on a five-hour trip to Voss, traveling most of the time along the beautiful fjords. We drove through the town where Daniel has his boat moored.

Actually, the boat belongs to the government. An island in the fjord houses a prison. Daniel ferries workers and whatever needs to go back and forth. Daniel was on holiday while we were there.

    Our last day, Ote and Bente showed us more of Bergen: "old" Bergen, a stave church which was rebuilt because arsonists had burned it, and the home of Edvard Grieg. While we were having fun, Kirsten and Daniel were preparing dinner for us at Ole and Bente's lovely home that looks down on the king's summer castle.

It was time to say goodbye. Kirsten, Daniel and Berit accompanied us to the ship that would eventually take us to Kirkenes. We felt like we had always known them. I plan to keep in touch!

    Day seven arrived on the coastal voyage. We leaned on the deck railing and watched Kirkenes getting closer and closer I was filled with anticipation and excitement. This is it. After all these years I'm going back to my ''roots.”   I will see where my grandparents came from, and meet descendants of the family that grandma and grandpa gave up to come to a new world!

    Yet I thought "will the relatives like us? Will we be able to communicate? Will they think ‘oh no, not another long-lost relative?’” We were there! And there was smiling Øyfrid on the dock. I felt better already. Øyfrid asked if we would like to see the Russian border. Of course we would. It has become quite a tourist attraction. As you would expect, one side looks the same as me other except for a border patrol station on the Russian side. That's as close as I will probably ever get to Russia, but I can say that I saw it.

    The first thing we noticed as we were driving along was the "short,''"stubby,'' "crooked" birch trees. It looked as though a giant had pressed on them to stunt their growth (quite different from the Pacific northwest where trees grow straight and tall.

Øyfrid pointed out various things as we went along on our way to Sirma. Our next stop was a picturesque miniature Russian Orthodox church. Wild flowers grew all around in profusion. Sump ull (Norwegian: swamp wool) grew everywhere. I had never seen anything like it. The "flower" was a tuft of what looks like cotton. I learned later that the Sami used to stuff pillows and mattresses with them.

    Øyfrid said it was time to eat. We stopped at a restaurant. The menu didn't mean anything to us so I was glad when Øyfrid suggested reindeer meatballs, boiled potatoes and carrots. It was very tasty!

    We stopped for groceries on the way to Sirma. I was fascinated looking at the shelves of packaged food, and also the produce. That was one place I didn't need an interpreter. By this time I was able to figure out kroner – the prices did shock me.

They have quite a few things that we don't such as the pudding that comes in cartons (like our milk cartons). I wish I had taken a picture of the checkers, sitting on their swivel stools, checking groceries. I would like to show that to grocery store checkers here in the US. They could demand better working conditions!

    Finally I saw a sign by the road: Sirma. It isn't a town – it's what we call a "wide spot in the road," right along the Tana river. The other side of the river is Finland. Fishermen were on both sides of the river.

    Øyfrid has a spacious, modern home with every modern convenience: dishwasher, hot tub, multiple bathrooms, and everyone seems to have a cell phone. She also owns considerable property on the river and on the hill over her farm. One thing I noticed was the difference in decorating taste, both in Bergen and Finnmark. Here, in the US, primary colors (red, yellow, blue) are seldom used, but in Scandinavia they are used extensively. I loved looking at the decorating. It is so colorful.

    Cousins started coming that evening (my husband Ed has a note in his journal "Nils Biti speaks good English.") Nils had thought ahead and translated the story I wrote about my Sami grandmother into Norwegian. He read it for everyone there that night, I appreciated that.

    I had most of the visitors sign my book and note their relationship to me, although a few slipped out without signing so I don't have all their names. Also, Lisa Varsi came, the delightful cousin of an Árran editor. Being an English teacher in the public school in Sirma, she speaks perfect English. She lives just down the road a ways from Øyfrid, so I was able to get over to her house later and see her artwork.

    The next day was all planned. Nils Biti took us all around the surrounding country, including Finland. It was a ten hour trip. We received a letter from Nils recently. He said "I was impressed with your health condition after more than ten hours on the road with me." I guess he thought us old folks would crash for sure! Nils had been a sailor and come to the Pacific NW twice white engineer on a ship. He picked up most of his English from working with Americans. He writes as good as he speaks.

    Among the sights on the ten hour trip was the Sami Museum, silversmith, and the cemetery where his grandfather, Andreas Person Biti (1882-1968) is buried. He was my grandmother's brother. Then a very special visit to Andreas Biti and his wife. Andreas is Nils' uncle. Andreas’ father was also a brother of my grandmother.

    They were waiting for us. Someone had come and prepared refreshments and made sure the house was clean. I wish I could have communicated to them that we didn't come to see their house, we came to see them. Ed took pictures of Andreas, his wife, Nils and I. I put my arm around Andreas. I sent Nils a copy of the picture to give to Andreas. Nils told me on the phone that Andreas had tears in his eyes when he gave him the picture. That made me have tears in my eyes.

    We also stopped a the Landbruksskole (Norwegian: agricultural college) in Tana. Nils is caretaker there ten months out of the year. Nils is a fascinating storyteller and he kept up a running conversation as we drove along. He talked a lot about the German occupation in WWII. There are still many who remember it, but many of them won’t talk about it. It’s too painful.

    He pulled over to the side of the road and pointed out his fishing cabin, barely visible through the trees. He fishes in the Tana river in the summer and sells most of his catch for extra income. I tell Nils he ought to be a tour guide in the summer. He didn't go for the idea. The fish are running during the tourist season and the Tana river is "fisherman's heaven.” l told him we really appreciated him taking his fishing time to be our private tour guide!

    We drove a short distance. He turned on a road and up a steep hill. It's really a utility vehicle road, but Nils' old Volvo is used to it. We came to the top and started down. There before us was magnificent Tana fjord. We were distracted by a man and his dog running up the hill from the house on the fjord. He was obviously angry and shouted at Nils, "Get off my property!” Then Nils said,"Never mind, Just a couple of cranky old brothers live here."

    Again, Nils gave us a history of the area, especially the German occupation. German cannons were pointed on the fjord. Any ship that ventured in was an easy target. He also pointed out the remains of Sami dwellings, possibly 6,000 years old. He
told many stories about the German occupation. His father had told him as he was too young to remember.

    I asked him to please write all this down and send it to me. I reminded him that if he doesn't, it will be lost forever. He promised he would have it to me "before Christmas." With his permission I would like to share these stories with Árran readers. The fact that they survived to tell about it is incredible.

    The next day was Saturday market in Tana, 42 miles from Sirma. About 4,000 people converged on about five acres right on the Tana river. This happens one day a year and we happened to be there. Most were Sami and they came from all over. A typical Saturday market, there was crafts, food, small businesses advertising their products (one enterprising salesman had large balloons in the shape of cell phones.) Also there was art work, Sami radio and newspaper, and a lot of "just visiting." It was obvious that folks who hadn't seen each other for a while were having a good time together.

    I noticed that one booth was raising money for something (I couldn’t read anything of course). Very few people were hanging around there. Later Øyfrid pointed out that there is a "group" in the area that doesn't want the Sami language taught to their
children, so they were raising money for a private school. Øyfrid's comment was, "I don’t think they will get much business here."

    It was cold and rained off and on (every day was like that so far), Ed wandered off, and so did I for a while. Soon Ed came back with a young blonde lady with a microphone (when they hear you speaking English they wonder why you are there). She wanted to interview him, so he replied, "It’s my wife you want to talk to." That interview was on Sami Radio a few days later.

    Øyfrid, along with two other cousins, Kirsten and Lisbeth, and Ed and I converged again. Now it was raining "cats and dogs" so we found empty chairs under a big market umbrella. This turned out to belong to the Finnmark newspaper. Again, they heard us speaking English. Well, the pictures and article in the Finnmark newspaper was the result.

Saturday market on the Tana river. Cousins came "out of the woodwork."

    I wish I had brought my notebook and written down names of relatives I met. It didn't occur to me that I would meet relatives there. In the meantime, Nils was home preparing dinner. It was time to leave Saturday market.

    The road runs along the Tana river for miles. Cousin Andreas and Nils' homes are along the river, as most homes are. Nils is a bachelor. I was surprised how "decorated," neat and clean it was. It was his father's home and he is remodeling it.

    He had prepared boiled salmon that he caught the day before, boiled potatoes, vegetables and a salad. It was delicious. Afterwards, he showed us his photographs, obviously professional, all local scenery. This is another "side business” of his. He let us choose some prints. We chose one of the Tana fjord that we especially prize.
    What a fun day! But it was time to go "home" and get some sleep. The fact that the sun never "went down" was still very strange to us. It didn't seem necessary to go to bed. The next day you knew you should have.

    Øyfrid had arranged with cousins in Karasjok to entertain us for the next five days. So on Sunday we went off to our next adventure, Karasjok, Kautokeino, Nordkapp. Well, Árran, I'm "signing off" for now. I will continue the travelogue next time.

Part 2 Part 3