Árran Archive: Elaine Hepner Visits Sápmi

by Elaine Hepner

The next morning plans were made to go to Nordkapp. Joseph’s granddaughter, Lena Farvelund, a college student went along as driver and interpreter. There were five of us, the others were Gunhild Paulen and Laila Sandvik.

    I will keep this brief as it wasn’t necessarily a Sami experience. Nordkapp is a national park on top of the world, with thousands of visitors. It is an island and in the past, reindeer were ferried over to the island for summer pasture. Now, just opened three weeks before we were there, is a 4½ mile underwater tunnel. I noticed Laila and Gunhild getting piles of kroner out of their purses. The cost was approximately $80 for five of us to drive through the tunnel, then when we got to the park, more piles of kroner, about another $80 to enter, then on the way back, another $80 to go through the tunnel again. They wouldn’t let us help with the expense, but we did insist on paying for the meal on the way back.

    The flat table rock which is called Nordkapp houses a pavilion, and in it an imax theater, restaurant, gift shop, large museum, wedding chapel, wedding suite, post office, and a large room facing north to watch the midnight sun. This is a marvel of God’s creation and man’s ingenuity. Laila and Gunhild bought me a Sami necklace and for Ed a shadow box of dried flowers that grow there. Weather was perfect. No wind, temperature 72 degrees. Lena said there wasn’t more than two or three days a year like that there.

    We stood outside for some time and looked north. All you can see is sea, but out there beyond our vision is the North Pole. Another exciting day, and time to “head home.” We got to the tunnel, and at the South entrance was a herd of reindeer. We got home at 1:30 a.m.

    Friday we slept in. Our basement room had small windows so that the constant sun didn’t keep up awake. A slower day, Øyfrid’s parents, Petter and Marit Sophie Balto engaged Lisa Østby to be the interpreter while they drove us around Karasjok. Some things we had seen before but we didn’t mind as everything was so fast forward that a rerun was fine. They apologized for not being able to entertain us so they gave us a very nice gift.

    Lisa had previously worked in Karasjok in the tourist center. She said tourists come in expecting to see Sami the way they were 100 years ago. They would ask “Where are the Sami?” to which she would reply, “You’re looking at one.” Lisa is now a helicopter pilot. Gunhild had lunch ready: meat cakes, gravy, cloudberries and ice cream. We promised Joseph we would visit him at his home out in the country. His home is old fashioned. I really enjoyed it. His granddaughter Lena was there to interpret. He had more pictures for me. This was our last visit in Karasjok.

    It was 5:00 Friday evening. We were ready to leave for Sirma. Svein Arne said “would you like to see the new church before we leave?” Sure we would, beautiful architecture with a gorgeous pipe organ. Svein Arne sat down at the organ and began to play the old Scandinavian hymns that I heard as a child. I sang along as best I could remember the words. “A Mighty Fortress is Our God,” “Oh Sacred Head Now Wounded,” Thanks to God for my Redeemer,” “Children of the Heavenly Father,” and then he played “He, the Pearly Gates will Open,” and then I cried. Up to this time I had remained quite composed, even though inside I experienced many emotions. I think the pace that we went didn’t allow me to take time to cry.

This was mother’s favorite song. It was sung at both Mother and Dad’s funeral. Suddenly I realized that I had come full circle. I had come back to where it all started.

    We were off to Sirma. Svein Arne, Gunhild, Laila and us. When we arrived, Øyfrid had refreshments ready. Cloudberries and ice cream.   I still wasn’t tired of cloudberries! After a short visit, we bid our dear cousins from Karasjok goodbye. I hope they come to visit us sometime!

    By this time Øyfrid had things under control with her hired help and she had a trip all planned for the next day. We were going to Hamningberg. Civilization seemed quite sparse every place we had been in Finnmark, but Hamningberg was the end of the world. It’s what we would call a ghost town. Øyfrid hadn’t been there before so she was anticipating the trip. We left about 10:30 a.m. which would turn out to be a 16 hour trip. It doesn’t really matter what time you leave on a sightseeing trip in Finnmark in July. It isn’t going to get dark!

    Now we were driving north along Varangerfjord, through several little settlements, quaint little fishing villages. Next stop was Vadsø for some refreshments. There were big department stores and gift shops. But all the stores close at 1:00 on Saturday – before we got there. We continued along the fjord, mile after mile. We didn’t stop except for picture taking. Hamningberg was our destination.

    The country had become a total “moonscape” with picturesque fishing houses here and there perched on rocks. Occasionally there were grassy areas with sheep and reindeer grazing. The road became one lane. We did meet cars and campers occasionally, so someone had to pull over. Øyfrid is an aggressive driver. She didn’t always pull over. On the left was high rocky cliffs, on the right, the open sea.

    This had to be the most fascinating drive of the whole trip. Finally we came around a bend and across the bay we could seehouses. It looked like any other fishing village, but this one is vacant except for some houses occupied in the summer. We were at the top of the world again. Hamningberg is called “the end of Europe.” Some houses are kept in repair. However, the broken down buildings and fences with rotted fishing nets strung on them are a reminder of better times. There are remains of warehouses and dwellings from the time of the barter trade between Russia and Norway. Large quantities of dried cod were exported to Russia. Russians sailed into the villages of Finnmark to barter flour, grain, jewelry and clothing for the fish. The people of Finnmark welcomed the barter trade. They desperately needed the grain and flour and clothing the Russians were bringing and they got rid of the cod fish before summer.

We strolled around the bleak cemetery. I was surprised that many of the graves had ornate stones. A closer look revealed that about half of the graves were infants and young children. On a pleasant day in July it’s hard to put yourself in the place of the people who lived here. No way of transportation except by boat, subzero temperatures, howling winds, blizzards. They had to dig adequate peat for fuel from bogs, then dry it for winter use.

    I wondered how they buried the dead in the winter. My mother told me that in Alaska, the Inuits prized the wooden Carnation canned milk boxes as baby caskets, and just put them on top of the ground in the winter.

    We took our time on the way back. We drove into Vardø. It’s on an island connected to the mainland with a 2.8 km tunnel under the sea. It was late and we were looking for a place to eat. The only restaurants open were the night club Variety so we kept going. There is only one tree on the whole island which is carefully wrapped up for the winter.

    Next stop was Kiberg. About 375 people live there. Here, as in Vadsø, fish processing plants are the main employers. Remains of German gun emplacements and pill boxes are still on the rocky hillside. Many men from Kiberg participated in the resistance movement during WW II. Their task was to send radio reports about German movements on land and sea. Many were taken prisoner and lost their lives. In the center of town there is a memorial to those who were executed.

    Houses are painted bright colors all over Finnmark, but none so bright (that I saw anyhow) as Kiberg. With my point ‘n shoot camera I captured shocking pink, mustard, purple, red, green, amber and apricot, all in one shot.

We were still looking for a place to eat, so Øyfrid pulled up to a little place. It said “Café,” so she sent me in to inquire. I knew I wasn’t communicating when I said, “Can we get dinner here?” Both the man behind the counter and a lady sitting, drinking coffee gave me a blank look. Finally I said, “Can we get a meal here?” The man’s face brightened up. He ran into a back room which I thought might be the eating area. He came out with a package of meal, so pleased that he understood me. I shook my head “no” and waved my hand “no” and ran out. I was so embarrassed! As soon as I got out, it struck me funny, and I started laughing hysterically. Øyfrid opened her window and asked “What’s so funny?” When I told them, we laughed for a mile or so down the road. I told Øyfrid not to send me out as the scout anymore.

We were paying more attention to the scenery now as we were on the way back. We noticed a church way out on a point that juts out in the fjord about half a mile from the main road. Picture perfect, a simple white church, a graveyard with iron crosses and a white picket fence enclosing it all. Gentle waves from the fjord were lapping almost to the fence on three sides. I asked Øyfrid a very dumb question. Why did they build a church way out here? “Well,” said Øyfrid, “you must remember, the church was there long before roads were even built along the fjord. People came from across the fjord, as well as this side, by boat.” The church was built in 1800. I took a picture of an iron grave marker: Elizabeth Marie Twede 1789-1837. Apparently the Germans didn’t destroy this church either. Yellow flowers bloomed all around. In this barren landscape, nature seems to take care of the pruning and weeding.

We arrived at Tana about 11:30. Øyfrid said “We can either go home or if I can find some gas, we can drive up to Nils’ fishing cabin. I know he is there.” Gas stations are closed by this time in Tana but she found one that would take her credit card. We got to the cabin about 12:00. Ed walked down the trail and knocked on the door. “Come in,” he yelled. He had company but they soon left (four is a crowd in that little room). He seemed pleased and surprised that we showed up at that hour. He had purchased a Sami knife for Ed and a silver necklace for me. He had them there.

He had been watching TV and he was the first to tell us that John Kennedy’s plane was missing off Nantucket. While Nils and I were chatting, Ed was “itching” to go to Tana fjord to see the midnight sun. We drove up the bumpy road, reached the top, and there it was. The horizon was deep shades of orange and yellow. The sky above faded into dark blue. The yellow sun illuminated the whole fjord. My thoughts went to the old Scandinavian hymn “Oh store Gud.”

“Oh Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder consider all the worlds Thy hands have made. How great Thou art!” My point ‘n shoot camera had the right film for this occasion. Ed and Nils were standing there talking and I got them silhouetted against this beautiful setting. My prize picture!

There had been no mosquitoes way up north. It was a perfect day! We got to bed at 2:30. I could feel the long days catching up with me.

    Sunday was our last day in Finnmark. Øyfrid had invited two of her younger brothers and their families, Thoralf and Jan Ole Balto, over. They spoke English so we had interesting conversation. Both of her brothers are teachers.

    Øyfrid arranged for Nils Biti to take us to Kirkenes to fly to Oslo, so at 11:15 Monday a.m. we bid a tearful goodbye and we were off to Kirkenes. As planned, Dagmar Biti Green and her friend Ingar met us at the airport and dropped us off at our hotel downtown. We had two days in Oslo. My cousin Carl Nilsen had previously arranged to have his cousin from Larvik meet us for a day and show us around. My cousin Carl died in the meantime. Arne Nilsen and his son Svein both speak good English. Most of the day were at museums. Arne was in the resistance movement as a teenager during WW II, so his comments were most interesting at that museum.

    The last day we wandered around downtown Oslo. I saw what looked like a secondhand shop (my favorite). We went in. The man had some very impressive antiques as well as collectibles. He asked us where we were from and where we had been. He knew the country around Tana very well, since he fished up there. It turned out that he and I are shoestring relatives on the Balto side. It’s a small world after all.

    We were getting off the plane in Copenhagen when who should be right behind us, my cousin Asta Balto and her daughter from Kautokeino. There were headed for Seattle also, then to Hawaii.

    I have only one disappointment. When my cousins were there in 1979, they took a picture of a street in Karasjok named Samuel Balto Vei. Svein Arne took me to see the street sign so I could take a picture of it. It had been removed!

    So concludes our travelogue to Norway. It opened up a whole new world to me. Such wonderful memories!

Observations of Sami Culture and Customs: How has the Old become New?
    Ed Hepner

    In our recent trip to Samiland we were exceedingly impressed by getting to know a people and a culture that was like opening up an entirely new world to us. My wife remarked to someone, “They are going to kill us with kindness.” My wife, Elaine, is Sami, and we were aware that she had relatives there in Finnmark, but we were ignorant of how many. My own background is from many ethnic origins. We enjoyed warm hospitality, acceptance, and genuine friendliness everywhere.

    We met a people who are progressive, productive and apparently prosperous. They have an eye for the future and what is good for their culture and country, while still preserving a heritage going back thousands of years.

    We were shown the remnants of ancient Sami dwellings in Tanafjord going back 6,000 years, the heritage of an indigenous people. We also saw the progress of a cultured, well educated society. All are promoting the well being and healthy state of Sami culture now and for the future. We saw the remnants of the Old and the resources and resolve of the New.

    Above all, we are thankful for the true friendships established, and for the continuing contact we hope to have with these people who are close to our hearts, even though separated by great distances.

    We have returned to our home with a multitude of new impressions and pleasant memories, and would enjoy spending a long time with our friends living on top of the world in interesting Finnmark.

    Some of the unusual things that we experienced in Finnmark would be that once above the arctic circle, the sun never set during our three weeks in Finnmark. Therefore being able to take pictures at all hours of the day, and being out on long trips not realizing how late or early the hour was getting.

    Eating and enjoying cloudberries and a current-like red berry at nearly every meal. The red berry tasted much like our cranberry. (Árran: better known here as lingonberries, they are low bush cranberries).

    In conclusion, this was an outstanding trip, very enjoyable in every way. The only things we found less to our liking would be that everything, including food, is exceedingly expensive (thankfully, relatives graciously supplied abundantly for our needs) and the mosquitoes were thick and plentiful and seemed to especially love to feast on American blood.

    Thank you, married to a Sami for 50 years. Praise God!