Pet Peeve: Souvenirs.

Jonathan and I just got back from a trip to Tallinn and had a fabulous time. As usual when one goes somewhere, I wanted something to commemorate the trip. Something besides photos... something I could keep around and once in a while get out and say, "Gee honey, remember that great trip to Tallinn?"

Now, I know I am not the first, nor will I be the last, to express this sentiment. Hence the invention of souvenir shops. But since when are souvenir shops entirely filled with crap? Or have they been that way all along and I've just now started to notice?

I'm not talking about your traditional, right-smack-in-the-tourist-section, postcard-and-snowglobe type souvenir shop. Of COURSE those are full of crap. I avoid those whenever possible, or at the very least, don't go in them expecting to find anything nice.

I'm talking about the places where you used to be able to get something authentic and useful. Something that looks like what people there traditionally used. Say, an interesting wooden bowl or stone tray. It turns out either of those things are impossible to find.

Tallinn, Estonia has been a thriving center of trade since at least the 13th century, if not earlier. Are you telling me no one used bowls there for the last 800 years? Is there no proud tradition of bowl making? The entire town sits on a big rocky outcrop and they are known for their abundance of granite. Have they never made plates or trays out of said granite?

Apparently whatever material they traditionally used to make bowls has been replaced by chunky white ceramic with primary-colored houses painted on it that vaguely look like the cityscape. And just incase that doesn't jog your memory, they say conveniently say "TALLINN" on them in giant letters. Yeah, I'm sure that's what Estonians have been using in their kitchens for generations.

I don't want kitsch in my house. I don't want knick-knacks everywhere. I just want something I can use that also has a story behind it.

There were many shops in Tallinn that were supposed to be galleries of local artists. We thought maybe we could find something in there. Many of them had pretty pieces; but nothing about them was practical or unique to the area. They had strangely-shaped glass vases and bizarre jewelry... and it looked exactly like the vases and jewelry in galleries in San Francisco or North Carolina or Sweden or wherever. Pretty, yes, but distinctly modern and decidedly generic. If we bought anything there, we'd never be able to remember where it came from.

"Say, that's a beautiful candle holder you have there. Where'd you get it?"

"Oh, thanks! We got it in... uh... hm. Honey, do you remember?"

"Sure, we bought that while visiting your grandma."

"Are you sure? Didn't we get this in Moscow?"

"Come to think of it, it has a kind of Italian look to it... I think..."

Yeah. That just wouldn't do.

For a moment we considered getting something linen. There are linen shops all over Tallinn. They do have some nice things (mixed in with some utterly hideous things), but we've already sort of OD'd on linen. Besides already getting all the tablecloths and placemats and napkins we could ever need at our wedding, we purchased even more here already. Linen and wool are pretty popular in the Baltics and Scandinavia. Practical? Perhaps, if we didn't already own it. Distinctive? Well, to the region, but certainly not to the city or even the country. Close but no cigar.

At least linen actually IS from the region. Even more disturbing than the overflow of generic kitsch was the wide selection of memorabilia that isn't Estonian at all. Such as the distinctly Norwegian sweaters. Yes, Estonians wear sweaters too, but they've never used those little silver clips. And perhaps Estonia would do trade with Norway back in the day, but they weren't known to adapt the styles of their culture. At least not until the late 90s when tourism picked up. Even more disturbing is the prevelance of matroishkas, icons, and various other Russian paraphernalia. Okay, I know that Estonia was controlled by Russia for 60 years and that a large portion of Estonia's population is still Russian. But after reclaiming their independence, Estonia worked very hard to wash their culture of all things Russian. Lenin statues were destroyed, buildings were torn down. Propaganda was taken away; Estonia flags started to fly proudly; museums about the occupation were erected. Why then, after all this, would they be okay with making a quick buck off an uneducated tourist who thinks nesting dolls are a local tradition, or that Estonians are a genetic sub-title to Soviets instead of being a people of their own whose closest ties are actually to Finns? Sure, maybe have one Russian shop to acknowledge that part of your history and to not deny your citizens who have Russian heritage. But don't dedicate a bigger part of your souvenir shops to Russian crafts than to your own.

Not to suggest that these problems are unique to or the fault of Estonians. Anywhere in the world you go, people are selling total crap. Obviously SOMEONE'S buying it, or it wouldn't get sold in such massive quantities.

I considered starting a collection of something instead of trying for practicality. I know many people who get one of something from wherever they go. No harm done in having your one thing from each place and keep it all organized for display. I know people who collect thimbles, shot glasses, spoons, magnets, etc. But I've already been to too many places to start doing that now. I'd have to backtrack to pick up stuff from the last 15 states/cities/countries I've been to.

No, in the end it seems I am doomed to having just my photos to jog my memory. God knows it's not from lack of trying. We must've been in 40 galleries/souvenir shops/craft stores/old book stores during the last four days, with nothing to show for it.

I think now I'm going to order one of those rustic-style bowls from Crate & Barrel, and should you ever ask where it came from, I'll lie.

"Oh, that? We got it in Estonia. Proud bowl-making tradition there, fine craftsmen. Would you like to see the pictures from our trip?"

Reindeer, and moose, and grouses, oh my! - Part 3

On we go with day 6. Day 6 started with what I swear is the most physically taxing thing known to man: kick sledding.

This is us on a kick sled.



The idea is, you stand behind it (ordinarily without someone sitting on it), one foot on the braces underneath, which are supposed to glide across the ice like skis. With the other foot you kick, sort of like a skateboard, and therefore propel yourself across ice or snow. That's the theory, anyway. In reality it goes about an inch and then you have to kick again. And kicking really hard with 8 ton boots made me feel like I was having a small heart attack with each kick. Maybe it's just me. I got further and further behind Tatu and Jonathan. Between panting breaths I was like "dang, this is hard." Tatu scoffed. "This is how old women get their groceries around town," he said. Oh, the shame. At least his incredulous disbelief didn't keep him from slowing down for me.

After my near heart-attack while kick sledding, we got back in the van and drove to see a reproduction of an old Sami teepee, the kind they would have lived in for the winter a thousand years ago. Here's the outside, covered in snow- note the stick for hanging up reindeer skins and meat to dry.



And here's inside the cabin. Looks cozy, eh? Actually they would build fires in the middle and everything would be covered in reindeer fur, so it would be pretty warm.



We also saw a nearby Russian Orthodox church- the only one in Lapland. After the Russians tried to take over and/or kick out the Sami multiple times, they aren't exactly big fans of the Russians.



After this we had lunch, followed by more cross-country skiing. This time was on a more challenging track, though whenever it would come to a Y, Tatu was nice enough to let us take the easy route. Apparently it was a track used by pretty serious athletes; it had some huge hills (which we avoided) and firing ranges for biathlon. I have a whole new respect for biathlon; anyone who can hold still enough to aim that well after cross-country skiing UP a huge hill... well... it blows my mind. Naturally Scandinavians in general would be good at it, considering that was how they used to hunt, and also how the Finns defended themselves during the Winter War.

This was followed by... you guessed it... sauna and beer, dinner, and a good 9 hours of sleep.

Day 7: ice fishing. The coldest activity of the week. Least time-consuming though, since we just used the lake behind the cabin. I took many pictures of the lake during the week... every time the lighting was a little different.

Here's the lake, pre-sunrise, with a strange low-lying fog:



Another pre-sunrise shot on another day:



Pink skies overhead:





And last but not least, here's the lake the morning we went out to fish.



The Sami don't ice-fish inside fancy huts with record players and coolers of beer a la Grumpy Old Men. No, the Sami just sit out on the ice on a little folding stool and brave the winds. Overall we found Lapland to be quite still, but on the lake it was windy. Luckily, drilling holes in the ice will keep you warm. Also unlike Minnesotans, when Sami ice fish, they don't just use one hole. They figure if you haven't gotten a bite in one spot in 10 minutes, might as well move to another spot. So at least you warm up every time you drill. Here's Jonathan, showing how:



Here's me, hunched over a hole:



In the end, we caught nothing, although there were a few close calls. When the cold even started to get to Tatu, he built a fire (in the snow, no less- that's what I call Sami talent) and made us some coffee and hot cocoa.



After we were numb and it was obvious the fish weren't biting, we decided to call it a day.

Our final sauna was delightful, as was our final dinner. Our Sami chef made us the most incredible salmon I've ever eaten- she rubbed spices into the fish, then attached it to a cedar plank and roasted it over a fire for several hours. When we walked into the dining room, it smelled unbelievable, and tasted better. She also made us cloudberry shortcake. Mmmm. Incase you don't know, cloudberries are a distant relative of raspberries. They only grow in northern climates; they're a pretty pale orange color, not to mention delicious.



In addition to this delight, she also prepared us breakfast bags for the next morning, since we had to leave extremely early to make our 7:00 AM flight.

We got up around 4:30 and found a cab waiting for us at 5:00 to take us to the Rovaniemi airport. Since Rovaniemi is home to Santa's Village, the airport has claimed itself to be "The Official Airport of Santa Claus."



They even have a replica of Santa's Sleigh, complete with reindeer, and, disturbingly, a reindeer skin on the back of the sleigh. Guess that serves as a reminder of what happens to the reindeer who mocks Rudolph.



Our flight back was uneventful, as was the train ride back into the city. The bustle and pollution of St. Petersburg was quite a shock to the system after a week of dead silence and seeing almost no humans besides Tatu.

The Sami life wouldn't be a particularly easy one... 8 months out of the year there's a very real fear of freezing to death... but I think I'd have a hard time passing up the chance to live it again. A solid week of daily saunas, fresh food, intense exercise and intense rest is a wonderful cure for the stresses of the modern world.

Reindeer, and moose, and grouses, oh my! - Part 2

On to day 3 of the Lapland adventure.

Day 3 started with some childhood flash-back time, sledding down an enormous hill. Trudging up it in giganto boots was exhausting, but luckily we only did it once because Tatu got a snow mobile to pull us up after every downhill run. The top of the hill had an amazing view:



Jonathan exploring:



trees at the top.



After getting chilled to the bone from having cold air blowing in your face, we stopped for lunch at a Sami cabin. They call them teepees because they're round, and because traditionally Sami live in teepees, but they are permanent, wooden structures. They're tucked into the woods all over Lapland; the owners of the land, or volunteers if it's government-owned land, will build one and leave it unlocked year round so people have shelter and a place to make a fire. They also almost always come with a nearby outhouse, which is thoroughly unenjoyable to use in the cold, but better than nothing, certainly. We stopped at a different teepee each day for lunch. Lunch was always some kind of hearty soup, usually made from yesterday's dinner leftovers. Each teepee has a fireplace, and Tatu would hang an iron pot over it to heat up our soup. It was also a great chance to dry out some outer layers of socks and gloves.

Me outside a teepee:



Inside a teepee:



Me warming up by the fire.



After regaining feeling in our toes and stuffing ourselves on soup and Finnish breads and coffee, we went back out to try cross-country skiing. The Finns are pros at this, so keeping up with Tatu was a challenge, but it was fun. The worst part- going uphill, when, unless you have freakishly strong arms and can pull yourself, you have to cross-hatch your way up. The best part- going back down the other side. Unless there was a curve in the path. That's the weird thing about cross-country skiing; as long as someone has gone in front of you, you end up with some pretty deep tracks, which makes things more efficient on a level, but when you're screaming down a hill and the tracks turn, your skis don't want to. I never wiped out during my one day of downhill skiing, but I fell plenty during cross-country skiing, going both up and down hill.

Skiing in tracks:



Me on skis.



Our day ended again with a sauna, awesome dinner, and sleeping like a rock.

Day 4: Santa's Village. Lapland is considered the home of Santa Clause, specifically just outside of Rovaniemi, right on the arctic circle. Santa has quite a racket going up there. He's open to visitors 365 days a year, he sells a LOT of souvenirs, and his elves read letters to him year-round. You can even request a letter from Santa, including a special postmark. There's also a big marker at the edge of the arctic circle, providing a great photo op to commemorate officially stepping onto the north pole:



Look kids, this is where Santa lives!:



Santa's mail room. Notice the elf in the back, reading letters.



We did see Santa, although we were not allowed to take pictures of him unless we stood in line behind a million people and paid $20 or something for an official photo. We were satisfied enough to see him from afar. Although there was a very excited Russian basketball team waiting in line to see him; seeing a 7-foot-tall Russian sitting on Santa's lap was highly amusing.

The best part of the day was the incredible reindeer meat kabob we had for lunch, served gyro-style. Mmm-mm.

After buying some reindeer-horn odds 'n' ends at the enormous gift shop, we were taken to the Arktikum, the museum of the Arctic and its people. It had a lot of cool Sami artifacts, as well as a stuffed moose.

The Arktikum:



Inside the museum:



Another sauna, stuffing ourselves on fresh fish, end day 4.

Day 5 we went snowshoeing. On the way to our take-off point, we got to see some local wildlife. Here's a couple moose; I had to take this picture through the fogged-up window. Moose have extremely good hearing; the second we rolled down the window to get a better shot, they ran. Those things can move for their size.



We also saw more that were far enough away that they didn't run when we opened a window; too bad I don't have a better zoom.



Also spotted on the way were some grouse, also photographed through the window. Apparently they can puff up their feathers quite a bit to trap air for warmth; this gives them the goofy appearance of looking much too heavy for the branches they sit on.



Eventually we arrived at our destination, the base of mount Katkavaara. We hiked to the peak, the highest point in the area, overlooking the Pisavaara Nature Reserve. Walking in baggy shoes in knee-deep snow is really quite difficult, so having snowshoes keep us on the surface of the snow was immensely helpful.

Here we are, working our way up the hill:



Here's me at the top.



It being January, and being quite far north, made for some really cool sunrises at about 11:00 AM. Here's the sun just coming over the horizon:



And shortly after lunch, it was already starting to go down again:



And this is fun- this is one of the roads in the area. Essentially paved with snow. Notice the stick in the snow next to the road- they line both sides of roadways in the area. As the snow gets thicker during the winter, the sticks help you follow where the road is.



By now you know the routine- sauna, dinner, bed. Actually the sauna got a little more interesting today because we were able to stop and pick up some beer. No sauna is complete without drinking a good Finnish beer while inside. And you'd better be careful, because it goes straight to your head. Traditionally you should also roast little sausages over the hot rocks. Mmm. We didn't have the sausages in the sauna, but we did have them each morning at breakfast, along with hard-boiled eggs, yogurt, granola, toast and jam, cereal, oatmeal... mmm.

Alright, all this talk of sausage is making me hungry. One more break for dinner in real life... then the rest of our adventures.

Reindeer, and moose, and grouses, oh my!

March 1st, according to the Russian calendar, was the first day of spring, and so far the weather seems to be responding appropriately. It's been getting a little bit warmer every day, and even rained a little yesterday. The 4" thick slab of ice that covered everything for the last two months has mostly melted off the sidewalks, and even the Neva seems like it might start slushing up and moving again soon.

So, I'm reminded of the seriously cold white glory of our trip to Lapland, and thought I'd share our trip with y'all.

Just a little background- Lapland is a territory inhabited by the Sami, the native people of Scandinavia. They used to be known as Laps but really Sami is their preferred term and more politically correct. Lapland stretches across Norway, Sweden, Finland and a small part of Russia. While it works with the governments of those countries, it has a sort of government of its own, and even its own flag.



The capital of Lapland is Rovaniemi, in Finland. It's a pretty small town, population around 60,000, but because it has annexed a large part of the surrounding area to provide utilities and services to as many people as possible, its land mass makes it one of the largest cities in the world. Rovaniemi was completely razed by German forces during WWII and was built back up from essentially nothing; the new town layout, which is supposed to represent reindeer horns, and some of its most important buildings were designed by the famous Finnish architect Alvar Aalto.

The Sami were traditionally nomadic, making a lifestyle of fishing and herding reindeer, and living in teepees. They still fish and raise reindeer today, although they're less nomadic, and they've embraced technology, using snowmobiles and GPS tracking systems to keep track of their reindeer.

Anyway, so here's the play-by-play of our trip.

Day 1: we took the train to Helsinki, then flew to Rovaniemi. There we were greeted by our guide, whom I'm pretty sure was named Tatu. I can't be certain, but we're gonna roll with it. He drove us out to the lodge, about an hour southwest of Rovaniemi. We had an awesome dinner of reindeer, and hit the sack.

Here's the lodge:



Here's our cabin, in the back corner of the lodge:



Day 2: The fun begins. First we got outfitted in proper winter gear. We thought we already had some pretty hard-core stuff... we brought all our boots and long underwear and thick socks. We thought we were set until Tatu scoffed at us and took us to a barn with REAL equipment. We were each issued a snowsuit, boots two sizes too big in order to fit our socks plus two pairs of thick wool socks, thick leather-palmed mittens big enough to wear over our gloves, a cotton ski mask to pull over the face, and a hat with ear flaps. Underneath the snowsuit, we had our own long underwear, cordorouys, shirt, and sweatshirt. It averaged about 5 below (farenheit) while we were there, so it's a good thing we had the gear piled on, although walking in giant boots is a real challenge.

Our main event of the day was visiting a reindeer farm. We got a little tour and were told about how reindeer are raised. Each reindeer gets the farm's pattern cut into its ear, sort of like branding. Here's the ear-cutting pattern of the farm we went to:



After the reindeer are branded, they're pretty much released into the wild to mate and eat and generally fend for themselves. Once a year several local farmers will round up all the reindeer and sort out their herds to see how they're doing. The reindeer used for meat are butchered quite young, often before a year old. When butchered, nearly every part of the animal is used somehow; the skins are very warm of course, and crafts are made from the horns. (Ancient Sami religion also used reindeer horns and bones for telling fortunes.) Some of the best are kept for mating; some females are kept to give milk; and the smartest are kept to pull sleighs. Smart is a relative term, though... reindeer are some of the dumbest animals you'll ever come across.

Here's the reindeer on the farm:



petting the reindeer:



reindeer close-up:



Our next activity was to take a ride in a sleigh pulled by a reindeer. It was definitely on the goofy/lame side of things, as we were merely taken around a track, but apparently it takes SEVEN YEARS to teach the reindeer how to do this. At least we were allowed to "steer" the reindeer ourselves. The sleigh ride was pretty slow-moving. The owner would give the reindeer a good whack, and he'd run... for about 2 minutes, until he rounded the corner and was out of site of the owner, at which point he'd stop and start looking for grass. Then we'd have to shake the reins to try to convince him to go again. Come to think of it, I'm not sure if that makes him extremely dumb, or extremely smart...

On the sleigh:



View from the sleigh.



For our extreme skill, we were awarded Reindeer Driver's Licenses. I'm so proud.



After this we had lunch in a cozy cabin by a fire and learned a little more about reindeer herding and the Sami. The farm owner's son introduced us to his husky, which helps him with herding. He also showed us his grandfathr's "four winds" hat. Sami tradition tells the story of the four winds... wind from each direction, North, South, East and West all blew all at the same time, making life miserable. Then a wise old man somehow captured the winds in his hat and wouldn't let them out until they promised to only blow one at a time, one direction for each season. Hence the 4 pointed corners of the hat, and the four colored ribbons in the back. I believe something about the colors and the four winds also has something to do with the Northern Lights...

Jonathan with the hat.



Thus ended our tour of the reindeer farm. Here's us with the owner's son, in traditional Sami costume:



After the farm, we were taken to downtown Rovaniemi to see the "sights." Of which there are few. Here's downtown Rovaniemi:



Here's me along the Kemijoki river, which runs through town, with the famous Jatkankynttila bridge.



After this we returned to our lodge and took our first sauna of the week. Few things are more refreshing than a sauna... especially after having been outside in some seriously cold weather all day. Here's the sauna building:



And here's the part of the lake they keep churned up, if you're crazy enough (like Jonathan was, once) to jump in the lake after you sauna:



After the sauna, which seriously builds up your appetite, it's time for dinner. All our meals were semi-traditional Sami fare, and they balanced the line perfectly between something hearty after a cold day and something fresh for keeping the body clean. It was soooo nice to get really good fresh food after all the mayo in Russia. Dinner usually consisted of meat (usually reindeer) or fish (salmon or something from the lake), potatoes, steamed veggies, then a big fresh salad, some pickled veggies, traditional Finnish breads, and a dessert. Mmm-mm!

This is the dining hall, a little fogged-over since I'd just brought in my lense from the cold:



Well... as usual when establishing plots, this first act has been pretty long-winded. Better divide the rest of the trip into more parts...