We are all storytellers in a way. It’s a fundamental part of how we communicate as communities—big and small. That is what The Anthology is about: to lend Esquire Middle East’s historic platform to a new generation of writers, and champion the art of the written word in the GCC.
In partnership with Montblanc, each edition of The Anthology will feature a short story written by a regional writer, giving them the opportunity to take a further step in helping telling their stories, express themselves and fulfilling their potential. It’ll be Esquire’s privilege to share it.
It was approaching midnight as I drove my car through the snowdrifts that filled the pitch-black darkness. The road, covered in a layer of white powder, felt cold, and the slopes I passed over reflected the rugged nature of that mountainous region. The temperature on the car’s display read minus twelve degrees Celsius, while my car’s headlights were cutting a path through thick trees lining the road. Totally enveloped in the grandeur and beauty of nature, this was why I came to the Swedish region of Lapland.
Despite my excitement of wanting to explore my new surroundings, an exhaustion took over me once I reached my lodge in the small village of Abisko. My curiosity would have to wait until the morning.
There is something magical about the sensation when you fall asleep in one place, and wake up when it feels like somewhere completely different. The morning’s light had replaced the thick blackness of the night before with a spectacular view that was blanketed in pure white. It felt like the place was telling me about the adventure that would await me in the coming days.
Lapland is a vast region that is shared by four countries – Sweden, Norway, Finland, and Russia. Due to its location at the northern most part of the continent of Europe, it is a region with a unique nature, geography, and distinctive cultural heritage.
As the clock struck eight in the morning, I headed to the gate of the lodge to meet a group of young men who I had booked an ice climbing trip with. The guide was a young Swedish man who needed no encouragement in sharing details about the day’s adventure that lay ahead. We put on our helmets and snow boots and headed on foot towards a nearby valley.
We cut through small paths between the bare trees, and walked alongside a small rock cliff overlooking a frozen river, which was a layer of snow that could hardly be distinguished from the others. If it weren’t for the clarity of the river’s path that cuts through the rocky hills and the sound of water gurgling from some of its unfrozen sides, I wouldn’t have believed that a stream of water was flowing from under those white layers that I was standing on. Standing in the middle of that river, you could feel the beauty of nature beneath.
I was brought back to reality by a shout. The guide was beckoning us to climb up to where he was standing, with an excited grin on his face. “You haven’t seen anything amazing yet,” he chuckled, before leading us along one of the paths forged by the frozen river, until we reached a huge frozen waterfall. The frozen water was coloured like crystal. We stopped in front of him, stunned at the sight. I asked the guide excitedly: “Are we climbing the waterfall?!”
He laughed. “Maybe not this one! Climbing this waterfall would be very difficult even for us locals, but we can go and climb a smaller waterfall nearby. Believe me, it will not reduce the excitement!”
We forged on, along a side path of the river until we reached a waterfall similar to the one we had just marveled at, the only difference being its smaller size. Our guide stopped to prepare the climbing gear from ropes and tools, and then we started climbing the waterfall alone in turns. I hesitated a little when it was my turn, as I had never climbed frozen ice before. I tied the ropes around my waist and held two small picks in my hands, then I hit the first accurate blow in the middle of the waterfall to lean on it. I repeated the process several times, raising my body up until I reached the middle of the waterfall. The encouragement of my fellow travellers motivated me to keep going. I contemplated the place around me from above, and imagined the view of the waterfall in the summer, and that this waterfall that I fixed myself in the middle of will become running water in months.
I continued my ascent until I decided to descend by clinging to a rope hanging from the top of the waterfall. It was a different day adventure that I didn’t want to end. We packed our light luggage and returned to our starting point. I then spent a quiet night eating a piece of reindeer meat for dinner, which is a large mountain gazelle that lives in those cold regions. I enjoyed its delicious taste and decided that my dinners will not be without it as long as I was in Lapland.
At noon, I had an appointment to meet the Sami people, the indigenous people of Lapland. I joined a group that set off from the ice hotel together, riding a snowmobile pulling a long trailer. The driver of the trip, who is Sami by the way, sat me next to him on the snowmobile. We crossed what looked like a large frozen lake. Then we entered an area with many trees, and the snowmobile stopped in front of a small settlement of Sami tribes. The settlement consisted of several tents set up in a distinctive way and surrounded by fences containing herds of reindeer.
The Sami people are the people who settled in Lapland about 12,000 years ago in the areas of northern Scandinavia, extending from the Kola Peninsula (located in Russia today) in the east to the fjords of Norway in the west, passing through the areas of northern Finland and Sweden. Throughout their long history, the Sami have been able to domesticate reindeer and other animals in groups to be a source of livelihood for them, and they began to move with their migration across the mountains, valleys and rivers in the vast land of Lapland. They also developed their own culture and distinctive language, which made them an independent nation that still lives today, proud of its heritage and proud of its generous land.
The reindeer were roaming their enclosures when we decided to pet them and take pictures with them, while the Sami man was trying to catch one to prepare it to pull a unique carriage. The carriage was flat and made of wood and carried by two long sledges that were connected by two strong ropes that the man secured around the reindeer’s body. It was very easy, all I had to do was kneel in the carriage and hold on to a rope tied to the neck of the gazelle, which would take off at full speed as soon as the man shouted at it! The gazelle took off like a bullet and pulled my carriage over the ice at high speed, while I was shouting at it to increase its speed, which increased my happiness and joy with this experience. I felt happy to have tried one of the traditional means of transportation of the Sami people, which I am sure is one of the most enjoyable means of transportation I have ever tried!
After that exciting experience, the Sami man invited us to his tent, which was a reasonable size inside, as fifteen people could easily sit around the wood fire whose smoke was absorbed by an opening at the top of the tent. The man suggested that we taste reindeer meat the Sami way, and we welcomed his suggestion especially since he told us that they smoke the meat by hanging it on that opening at the top of the tent, which makes it exposed to the smoke of the fire that gives it its own flavor! He served us traditional Sami bread and then provided us with reindeer meat after cooking it on the fire for a short time! The meat was tender and cooked, and its deliciousness was enhanced by trying it with that local bread and a layer of fresh cranberry jam!
After our beautiful, albeit short, mingling with Sami culture, we headed back to the ice hotel across the frozen lake. I took a look around, examining the plains and hills stretching out in front of me, and I was amazed that a cold and quiet area like Swedish Lapland is full of such natural and cultural surprises. It is one of those areas that catches the eye at first glance, and the visitor falls in love with it from the first moment. Every moment I spent in Lapland had its own surprise, which made my experience in Lapland an unforgettable experience and I will keep its memories in my heart for as long as I live.
About the author
If doing what you love for a living can be considered lucky, then Abdullah Al-Jumah may very well be one of the luckiest men in the region. Still in his 30s, the Riyadh native is a qualified lawyer (and Harvard-graduate), but found his true calling in his writings.
Having previously published best-selling books Greats Without Schools, and Orphans Who Changed History, it was his passion for travelling that fuelled his most well-known work Tales of a Saudi in Europe (2013). The book tells of Al-Jumah’s adventures as he backpacked his way across Europe—seeing him staying in everything from castles to youth hostels.
“The idea of travelling and exploring the world is not a new concept for Saudis, even though it has never been a big part of our culture,” Al-Jumah tells Esquire. “I feel privileged that I have been able to travel so much, and equally privileged that I have helped encourage people from the region to follow their dreams by showing that the wide world out there it’s as big as they think it is.