Provide a glimpse into life above the Arctic Circle (147Cong.Rec.S12679)

Although I really enjoyed hanging out with the animals, the people in the Arctic Circle weren't so bad either. Of course, this was no surprise, considering I knew some of the crew that I chose to stay with in a lodge at Levi Spirit. Despite the rest of us being strangers, we got along just fine, but if we hadn't, there were plenty of places to get some space. The group sauna, which had a window to the adjacent jacuzzi tub, was quite roomy (top left). Similarly spacious was the outdoor fire pit, which we re-named the reindeer shaman room (top right). Even when we were all the living room, the many heated windows made it seem cozy but not cramped (bottom left). About the only tension the group experienced was during the competition of drinking games, but in the end, we bonded over our mutual disgust of Assa Shot (bottom right).

At other points in my trip, I drank tastier beverages. During my overnight in Kemi, I enjoyed two to-go beers I chose based on their wintry labels: a sleigh-embellished Sinebrychoff Jouluolut and a skiier-adorned Mustan Virran Panimo Viima Talviolut (top left). Other beers I chose for their crafty quality. At Leskinen in Oulu, I lapped up a Humalaja NEIPA by Sonnisaari (top right). At Kilta Bar in Kokkola, I enjoyed a Suntti Brown Ale by Kahakka Brewery, which was tastier than its name implies; the bartender told me it references the color of the much-maligned creek that runs through the town (bottom left). On a Sunday at O'Learys Irish bar in Jakobstad, I was able to find an aptly named tap among the many shuttered businesses: Reluctant Capitalist NEIPA by Jacobstads (bottom right). 

 

 

Sometimes, I focused on drinking in the culture with some more pedestrian brews. After a day of double hikes, I rewarded myself with a pizza and a big glass of Hartwell Lahden Erikois' hefeweizen at Pub.Fi (top). The pub was right down the street from my accommodations in Ivalo. The night before, after a day of driving, I had a beer at the bar of Hotel Kultahippu (bottom left), then made good use of my in-room sauna. Ivalo is a blue-collar town, and many road workers were my breakfast-buffet companions. They ate and ran, but I had the luxury of being able to linger and look at a sculpture honoring the gold-mining industry along the Ivalo River (bottom right).

Ivalo was my stepping-off point to reach Inari, home base of the Sami indigenous people, which clearly cultivated the hearty, hard-working heritage of the region. Along the shores of Lake Inari (top) sits the Siida Museum, the Sami Parliament building in Finland (bottom left). The Sami Parliament of Norway, with its strikingly ice-like architecture, is located in what was my destination after Inari: Karasjok (bottom right).

 

The museum was created by a Sami leader, who wanted to educate his own countrymen about his distinct culture. It started as a collection of buildings that represented his people's open-air lifestyle (top); unfortunately, this part of the museum was closed for the season. However, inside was a temporary multimedia art exhibit emphasizing their connection to nature (bottom left). The main part of the museum traces the history and traditions of the Sami through the seasons. I was particularly taken by a part about how the community in Russia is struggling to survive. One artifact in the museum -- the Gramota, or Archive of the Skolt Sami, which maintains the tribes' land rights in Russia -- was hidden by villagers through troubled times, including the Soviet regime (bottom right). In 2015, it was nominated to be included in the UNESCO Memory of the World register. 

In the beginning, the Sami had pagan beliefs based around nature gods. Over the years, some adopted more Christian values, as the religion spread through the area. But their lands, as with most of Norway and Finland, remain relatively secular. Most small communities have a single church whose simple construction belie a humility in the face of God, such as the white, wooden Alta Church (left). Churches were built from local materials, mostly timber, but some spruced up the boards with color, such as Kautokeino Church (middle). The Lapp Church in Sodankyla, one of the oldest wooden churches in Finland, has become dwarfed by the new, partially stone one next door (right).

Some of you might know that my preferred place of worship is a library. The location of the one in Oulu, above an inlet between an island and the mainland connected by a bike path, is a gift from god (top left). The main holy location in the city, Oulu Cathedral, was one of the more audacious I saw during my travels (top right). It totally outshone the wooden Oulu Castle, whose remaining turret-cum-cafe looks more like a lighthouse (bottom). 

On the Saturday I was there, Oulu's streets were filled not with parishioners, but strangely constumed devotees to some sort of competition I never determined (top). Sadly, it was not the Air Guitar World Championships, which I missed by a little over a month. Besides the fancy dressers, there seemed to be plenty of day-trippers about as well. Many of them took their photos next to Toripolliisi (bottom left). The city's famous policeman sculpture stands outside the Market Hall, which was remarkable in architecture but not sustenance (bottom right).

Oulu was my lunch stop on the way to Kokkola, a charming fishing village. Its clientele seems to have changed in the current century, considering I walked past three bicycle shops in one block as I watched the sunset (top). My room, a fancy affair above a swanky restaurant (bottom left), was situated in the old town, a short stroll across the Suntti from the more modern part of town (bottom right), where I got some takeout Indian for dinner. 

 

The next day, I took advantage of the beautiful weather to explore the village more closely on foot. In the middle of its English park sits the English Boathouse, containing a wooden vessel courageous residents captured during the Skirmish at Halkokari (top left). Finns laid in wait in storehouses by the dock (top right), then killed nine Brits as they repelled the invading Royal Navy. Not too shabby for a town of humble laborers, as evident in some of their remaining shacks (bottom left). Merchant residents had more generous living spaces, but they also suffered a lingering paranoia, judging by the window mirrors that allow inhabitants to monitor the streets outside (bottom right).

I scrutinized more of the same kinds of wooden buildings in nearby Jakobstad, but there, they were oddly juxtaposed with more contemporary architecture, such the clock tower on the Concordia building, which seemed right out of a post-modern movie set (left). The building, named after the first Finnish frigate to sail to the East Indies, is connected to City Hall by an enclosed bridge, an architectural representation perhaps of the importance of ship-building in the city's success (right).

On my way from Kokkola to the airport, I detoured to track down Soini, where TJ's great-grandmother grew up (top). For a small town in the middle of nowhere, it was quite enchanting. The Lutheran Soini Church features the only remaining wooden "poor woman" in Finland (bottom left); others similar statues exist, but they are male. Down the road, by the Pentecostal church, sits an outdoor museum, with another authentic wooden construction: a traditional windmill (bottom right).