A reindeer herding family lives where the reindeer are. Thus, we must travel to a summer camp on the Nordkinn Peninsula – at the top of Norway – when visiting with Ellinor Guttorm Utsi this sunny August afternoon. 

The bus ride from the harbour in Kjøllefjord to the Sami family’s summer camp, Davvi Siida, takes only a few minutes, but before arriving at our destination, we have time to learn that the Sami consist of around 72,000 people in Norway, Sweden, Finland, and Russia. Approximately 40,000 of them live in Norway.

Facts and numbers like these are easy to find in written materials. What we have in store is much more interesting because it will give us a more personal perception – and a better understanding – of the Sami culture. I realise – and I do feel a bit embarrassed by it – that although I have lived in Norway my entire life, I have little knowledge about the indigenous population of Scandinavia. Fortunately, that is about to change.

 

The lavvu (temporary tent-alike dwelling used by the Sami people) that serves as the summer residence of the Utsi family is not the first thing I notice as our bus rolls into the gravel drive of the property. Nor is it the sod- and plant covered building we are soon to enter. No, what first catches my eye – and the same goes for all the other guests on this tour – is the tiny reindeer calf standing very close to Ellinor, sniffing on her colourful Sami skirt while she’s petting him affectionately. On the left side of the calf’s head, we see the beginning of an antler, which over the next year will grow big and strong. On the right side, there is only a lump; there, the calf’s antler is broken, hanging limply in front of his ear.

Ellinor tells us that the calf is named “Č”. The Sami letter is pronounced 'tsj/tsje', as in “klutch”.

“He’s named after the man who found him; 'Kjetil'”, says Ellinor.

Č’s mother had disappeared without a trace, so Kjetil brought the little fellow to the Sami family, hoping that they could adopt him. Now, he’s about three months old.

“We give him the same kind of milk that is given to lambs, but he is also crazy about mushrooms, and this summer we have found lots of them”, says Ellinor, smiling.

After welcoming everyone, she shows the way into the sod-covered cabin which consists of two large, round, and open spaced rooms with a corridor between them. Č follows right behind us, preferring to stay close to people. It makes me wonder if he will ever be able to break out of the nest of his human family and find his way back to the reindeer on the plains.

“Before he died, I asked my old father: ‘If you had the option; would you choose the modern way of herding reindeer, with a snowmobile? Or would you rather have done it the traditional way, with reindeer and skis?”

Ellinor lets the question linger for a few moments, looking at us from her spot at the far end of the large room with a hearth in the middle. The cabin seems handcrafted down to the smallest details; for instance, it appears that someone has whittled the bark from the logs holding the wooden walls.

Ellinor is standing upright in her colourful Sami costume which she’s made herself, while we are sitting comfortably on soft reindeer leathers. She continues:

“My father replied that of course he would have preferred the modern way of gathering the herd. Doing the job with just reindeer and skis as support, was very hard work, and they always travelled alone. He said he’d been cold so many times he would never get warm again. I’m happy for our snowmobile”.

Normally, Ellinor’s husband, Ailu Utsi, would have been at the cabin with us, but as for today, he had an important errand somewhere else. It doesn’t seem to bother Ellinor. She’s used to visitors, and is enjoying telling tourists about the Sami lifestyle, culture, and history. Furthermore, she has a degree in Sami design and the traditional Sami craft, duodji (although her mother would have preferred that she’d choose a more lucrative occupation, such as nursing), and in the little shop at the opposite of the cabin, we can buy many of her products. Alongside the reindeer herding, she is a successful designer. 

 

During the winter, Ellinor and Ailu live in Tana, Troms, about 250 kilometres from Kjøllefjord. In April every year, however, they follow their reindeer to the Nordkinn Peninsula – or "Čorgas", which is the Sami designation. Altogether, there are ten Sami families working with reindeer on theNordkinn Peninsula during the summer, and between them they own approximately 5,800 reindeer. The animals roam free and graze throughout the season. They all have unique marks pierced in their ears, so there’s no doubt who’s the owner. According to Ellinor, there are 3,000 different reindeer tags in Finnmark county alone.

“On September 1^st, we will start collecting all the animals once more. We use ATV’s (All terrain vehicles) in addition to walking and using dogs to help us”, Ellinor explains.

Afterwards, some of the animals are transported to the slaughterhouses in trucks.

“We slaughter the reindeer for our own use, and – of course – we benefit from all parts of the animal. The meat can be fried, boiled, smoked, grilled or dried”, says Ellinor.

She explains that the traditional way of preserving the meat is to salt it, and then hang it out to dry in January when the weather is at its coldest. 

“Dried reindeer meat is easy to bring along when we travel in the mountains. After a while, when we need a break, we set up camp, light a fire, and make coffee. We enjoy dipping thin strips of dried reindeer meat into the coffee because it makes the meat soft and gives it a special flavour. It becomes a very good meal”.

The Sami no longer live in lavvues, but in ordinary houses. Nevertheless, they still use the special tents when they are travelling with their reindeer. Before setting up their lavvues, however, there is one important rule they must always obey:

“We have to ask nature for permission. We believe that the area has been used by others –and may still be in use. The way we ask nature is to enter a deep, meditating state of mind and ask for peace and harmony to stay in the area for a little while. We never get a clear answer, such as yes or no, but we ask anyway, out of respect for nature”, says Ellinor.

She recommends that we, too, ask nature for permission to set camp the next time we spend the night outdoors – because it means we will achieve a deeper connection with it, she believes.

“We say that nature is our culture, and when we follow our reindeer out in the wild, the laws of nature apply. In return, we get many products from the animals. This...”, she says, and picks up an interesting looking shoe with a curled toe, covered in short, grey fur; “... is made of skin from the reindeer’s leg”.

Some wonder whether the shoes are slippery, but according to Ellinor, they are not because the leather on the underside of the footwear is assembled in different directions, attaching in the middle, which gives the shoes a firm grip on the ground even when it’s covered with ice and snow.

Ellinor often thinks about how much knowledge her ancestors had about nature, even though they never read a single book.

“They knew that bark from a willow made leather waterproof, and that it can be used as medicine. If you have a toothache, you can chew on a stick with willow bark”, she says.

The reason is that it contains salicylic acid, which has a cooling effect and relieves pain. The substance is found in several drugs, such as Aspirin.

Ellinor shows us a “runebomme”; a Sami drum consisting of a piece of leather stretched across a wooden frame. The instrument is decorated with various symbols, representing the gods of the Sami religion, painted with colours made from bark. Until well into the 17th century, Sami shamans used such drums to get in touch with nature.

Otherwise, there are few authentic specimens of the special instrument left in the world. The reason for that is rather heart-breaking: At the end of the 17th century, the Norwegian church said that the runebommes "belonged to the devil". They collected all the drums they could find and burned them.

“The church and the state took many things from the Sami. It was a shameful time for our people, which no one wanted to talk about. Thus, I have not learned anything about the runebommes from my parents, but I have read a lot of literature by people who’ve done the research and written what they learned. I'm proud of my drum, and I'm not ashamed to talk about it”, says Ellinor.

At the beginning of the 20th century, several different measures were introduced with the aim of erasing Sami culture and identity. For instance, the Sami were not allowed to buy property if they had Sami surnames, and thus many had to take new, typically Norwegian surnames which often bore designations such as ...eng or ...slett.

“But when I started school in the 1970s, it was – for the very first time – possible to choose Sami as a second language, and today it has become even better: Now, the Sami language is accepted as a first language, and we have our own kindergartens and schools right up to high school. We can even study Sami at university level, and we have Sami TV and radio news broadcast all over the country”, says Ellinor.

 

Sami National Day, February 6^th, was approved by the Sami Conference in Helsinki in 1992. It is a celebration of the first Sámi national meeting in Trondheim in 1917, and it is common to all Sámi in Norway, Finland, Sweden, and Denmark. 

"This was the first time in history when all the Sámi from the Nordic countries gathered for a large meeting to discuss common Sami issues across nation-state borders. A Sami awareness was born, and the long process towards international law and democratic equality began".
_{Source: https://www.fn.no/om-fn/fn-dager-kalender/kalender/samenes-nasjonaldag.}

After listening to Ellinor’s interesting storytelling around the hearth of the cabin, many of us take the opportunity to buy a duodji and other handicrafts from her shop on the opposite side of the building.

Ellinor says that her family is trying to keep him outside, but he preferres to stay close to them. It's ok for now, while he's still the size of a big dog...

Two months after our visit, I call Ellinor and ask about Č. She informs me that he’s as affectionate around humans as he was when we met him.

“However, he is a bit mischievous, and he still tries to sneak into the house at our winter residence. I don't think we can keep him next year; he’ll grow too big”, she laughs.

We'll see about that…

You can learn more about this excursion here.

More excursions from Kjøllefjord
Autumn visit to the Sami
Snowmobiling under the Polar sky (winter/spring)

This was the 10th and final story in the series of travelogues from my first trip with Havila Voyages. But don't worry, I have more adventures to come!

 

Warm regards,
Josefine Spiro