Running With Reindeer: Encounters in Russian Lapland

Rating:
Summary: Into Europe's "Last True Wilderness"
Review: Touted as Europe's "last true wilderness", Russian Lapland (which goes by a number of names, including the Kola Peninsula and Murmansk Region) lies mostly north of the Arctic Circle and is generally unknown to the West. This combination of undeveloped wilderness and mystery proved to be an irresistible destination for British art historian and fisherman Took, who made a number of trips there during the early to late 1990s. This book is the result of these trips he took to the region as well as a capable synthesis of the literature available on its inhabitants. It follows no distinct narrative pattern, hopscotching around in time and subject matter, as Took weaves his own travel narrative in with the history of the place.

Although a glance at a map might lead one to think otherwise, this is no arctic tale. Due to a surprisingly beneficent gulf stream, the climate is much more temperate than one might expect. Which is why a great deal of Took's travel involved backpacks, camping, and industrious plodding through wildernessónot to mention decrepit planes, trains, and automobiles, and the odd helicopter or ex-Army tracked vehicle. Indeed, despite the title, he actually spends very little time with reindeer herders, as most of his visits involve trekking to remote villages and hanging out with the locals. As Took recounts, the traditional nomadic reindeer herding culture underwent profound system shocks under Soviet rule, when the Saami (the correct term for Laps) were forced to settle and their herds were collectivized. The parallels to the American conquest of Native American tribes all too striking, right down to the forced education of Saami children at boarding schools where they would be beaten if they used their native tongue. And just as in many Native American communities, modern Saami settlements have extremely high rates of alcoholism. His encounters and friendships with these native fishermen and foresters is engrossing, especially when he delves into the issue of fishing rights, which are tightly regulated. There's a very illuminating chapter on the establishment of luxury fishing camps for wealthy Westerners.

Took's presentation of the area's history is quite fascinating as well, and he tries as much as possible to link it to people living there today. The region first came to prominent attention in the West in the 16th century, when trade routes were established, primarily seeking furs. Just after the turn of the century, an amazing wealth of minerals were discovered there, and mining became a large concern. Still, like Alaska, the area mostly remained a hinterland ó although it was a popular locale for gulag work camps. World War II saw the establishment of a front against German and Finnish troops, and the enlistment of thousands of native Saami to the Soviet Army ranks. Following the war, it acquired strategic significance with the advent of the Cold War, and much of it was militarized and placed off limits as numerous naval bases were built, and much of the Soviet nuclear submarine fleet was housed here.

Which brings me to the book's one problematic area. In his zeal to explore every square mile of the peninsula, Took continually butts up against restricted military zones. Now, these areas are generally little more than crumbling decommissioned bases, many housing nuclear submarines that area literally falling apart into the sea. Still, they are patrolled by special services, and they are explicitly no-go areas. Took repeatedly scoffs at the notion that these areas are still off-limits, and finally deliberately crosses into one for a period, going so far as to get close enough to a base to observe its workings. This strikes me as the height of Western arrogance as well as the height of stupidity. First of all, he's lucky not to have gotten shot by some nervous conscript, or trigger-happy patrol. Second, his actions immediately endanger everyone who assisted him on his various trips, placing them under suspicion. Thirdly, I wonder what he would make of a Russian adventurer who decided to poke his nose around some military zones in the UK? Yes, the rules about these areas may appear stupid and arbitrary, but it incumbent on all who travel to respect the laws of the country we are traveling in. Otherwise, we not only endanger ourselves, but those travelers who come after us. This is the one aspect of the book that really upset me.

By the end, Took has done much to dispelling the mystery of the region with his exhaustive travels and research. Ironically then, it is the sudden appearance of wealth in the go-go days of the late '90s that confounds him. In less than a decade, the Murmansk he first came to, with virtually no consumer culture or tourist infrastructure, is transformed into a fashion-concious city with boutiques aplenty, and heartbreaking child prostitutes. And upon reflection, this bleak end to the book is fitting for a region which, despite it's natural beauty, has seen a great deal of human and environmental catastrophe over the last century.

Rating:
Summary: Into Europe's "Last True Wilderness"
Review: Touted as Europe's "last true wilderness", Russian Lapland (which goes by a number of names, including the Kola Peninsula and Murmansk Region) lies mostly north of the Arctic Circle and is generally unknown to the West. This combination of undeveloped wilderness and mystery proved to be an irresistible destination for British art historian and fisherman Took, who made a number of trips there during the early to late 1990s. This book is the result of these trips he took to the region as well as a capable synthesis of the literature available on its inhabitants. It follows no distinct narrative pattern, hopscotching around in time and subject matter, as Took weaves his own travel narrative in with the history of the place.

Although a glance at a map might lead one to think otherwise, this is no arctic tale. Due to a surprisingly beneficent gulf stream, the climate is much more temperate than one might expect. Which is why a great deal of Took's travel involved backpacks, camping, and industrious plodding through wildernessónot to mention decrepit planes, trains, and automobiles, and the odd helicopter or ex-Army tracked vehicle. Indeed, despite the title, he actually spends very little time with reindeer herders, as most of his visits involve trekking to remote villages and hanging out with the locals. As Took recounts, the traditional nomadic reindeer herding culture underwent profound system shocks under Soviet rule, when the Saami (the correct term for Laps) were forced to settle and their herds were collectivized. The parallels to the American conquest of Native American tribes all too striking, right down to the forced education of Saami children at boarding schools where they would be beaten if they used their native tongue. And just as in many Native American communities, modern Saami settlements have extremely high rates of alcoholism. His encounters and friendships with these native fishermen and foresters is engrossing, especially when he delves into the issue of fishing rights, which are tightly regulated. There's a very illuminating chapter on the establishment of luxury fishing camps for wealthy Westerners.

Took's presentation of the area's history is quite fascinating as well, and he tries as much as possible to link it to people living there today. The region first came to prominent attention in the West in the 16th century, when trade routes were established, primarily seeking furs. Just after the turn of the century, an amazing wealth of minerals were discovered there, and mining became a large concern. Still, like Alaska, the area mostly remained a hinterland ó although it was a popular locale for gulag work camps. World War II saw the establishment of a front against German and Finnish troops, and the enlistment of thousands of native Saami to the Soviet Army ranks. Following the war, it acquired strategic significance with the advent of the Cold War, and much of it was militarized and placed off limits as numerous naval bases were built, and much of the Soviet nuclear submarine fleet was housed here.

Which brings me to the book's one problematic area. In his zeal to explore every square mile of the peninsula, Took continually butts up against restricted military zones. Now, these areas are generally little more than crumbling decommissioned bases, many housing nuclear submarines that area literally falling apart into the sea. Still, they are patrolled by special services, and they are explicitly no-go areas. Took repeatedly scoffs at the notion that these areas are still off-limits, and finally deliberately crosses into one for a period, going so far as to get close enough to a base to observe its workings. This strikes me as the height of Western arrogance as well as the height of stupidity. First of all, he's lucky not to have gotten shot by some nervous conscript, or trigger-happy patrol. Second, his actions immediately endanger everyone who assisted him on his various trips, placing them under suspicion. Thirdly, I wonder what he would make of a Russian adventurer who decided to poke his nose around some military zones in the UK? Yes, the rules about these areas may appear stupid and arbitrary, but it incumbent on all who travel to respect the laws of the country we are traveling in. Otherwise, we not only endanger ourselves, but those travelers who come after us. This is the one aspect of the book that really upset me.

By the end, Took has done much to dispelling the mystery of the region with his exhaustive travels and research. Ironically then, it is the sudden appearance of wealth in the go-go days of the late '90s that confounds him. In less than a decade, the Murmansk he first came to, with virtually no consumer culture or tourist infrastructure, is transformed into a fashion-concious city with boutiques aplenty, and heartbreaking child prostitutes. And upon reflection, this bleak end to the book is fitting for a region which, despite it's natural beauty, has seen a great deal of human and environmental catastrophe over the last century.