Latest news with #ArcticCircle
Daily Mail
6 hours ago
- Science
- Daily Mail
The Arctic is turning GREEN thanks to climate change: Shocking photos snapped in winter reveal widespread snowmelt and blooming vegetation
In winter, the Arctic should be a stunning white landscape – a pristine world of ice and falling snow spanning thousands of miles. But shocking photos reveal the new reality at the North pole, thanks to climate change. Scientists from London who travelled to Svalbard in February and early March report a 'dramatic and concerning shift in the Arctic winter'. At the Norwegian territory, they encountered exceptionally high temperatures, widespread snowmelt, and blooming vegetation. Within a few decades, huge parts of the Arctic in winter could look like the lowlands of Scotland, the experts predict. Dr James Bradley, expedition member and environmental scientist at Queen Mary University of London, calls for urgent climate action to reduce global warming. 'Standing in pools of water at the snout of the glacier, or on bare, green tundra, was shocking and surreal,' he said. 'Climate policy must catch up to the reality that the Arctic is changing much faster than expected.' Dr Bradley and a few other colleagues travelled to Svalbard, a Norwegian territory, for a fieldwork campaign in February this year. At Svalbard, which sits within the Arctic Circle, they experienced 'exceptionally' high air temperatures, among the warmest ever recorded in the Arctic. For example, in Ny-Ålesund, north-west Svalbard and about 745 miles (1,200km) from the North Pole, the air temperature average for February 2025 was -3.3°C/26°F. This is considerably higher than the 1961-2001 average in the region for this time of year of -15°C/5°F. The team witnessed widespread pooling of meltwater into 'vast temporary lakes', which they were able to walk through like gigantic puddles. Meanwhile, vegetation emerged through the melting snow and ice, displaying 'green hues' typically associated with spring and summer. 'Blooms of biological activity were widespread across the thawing tundra,' say the researchers in their paper, published in Nature Communications. 'Surface soils, which are typically frozen solid during this time of the year, thawed such that they were soft enough to be directly sampled with a spoon.' Rainfall over Svalbard triggered widespread snowmelt and pooling of meltwater, which the researchers were able to walk through like giant puddles. Pictured, a meltwater pooling above frozen ground at the snout of Midtre Lovénbreen glacier, February 26, 2025 February temperatures at Svalbard In Ny-Ålesund, north-west Svalbard, the air temperature average for February 2025 was -3.3°C/26°F, and reached a maximum of 4.7°C/40.4°F. This is much higher than the 1961-2001 average for February (-15°C/5°F). Air temperatures higher than 0°C were recorded in NyÅlesund on 14 of the 28 days of February 2025. Such sustained warmth, coupled with prolonged rainfall, triggered widespread melting of snow and ice. There was also a lack of snowfall, which instead fell as rain – indicating warmer than usual conditions. The team were used to donning thermal layers and thick gloves, but they often found themselves working bare-handed in the rain. 'The gear I packed felt like a relic from another climate,' said Dr Bradley. Human communities and infrastructure at Svalbard are threatened by winter warming like this, partly due to the possibility of avalanches. The team warn of unstable 'snowpack' – the accumulation of snow on the ground, compacted by its own weight – which increases avalanche risk. They even questioned their own safety at Svalbard, suggesting that future fieldwork might not be feasible. Svalbard, the world's northernmost permanent settlement, is at the 'front line' of the climate crisis as it is warming at six to seven times the global average rate. Human-caused global warming is particularly amplified in the Arctic, causing the climate there to warm more quickly than the rest of the Earth. The big reason for this phenomenon – known as 'Arctic amplification' – is that the relatively dark surface of the ocean absorbs more heat. And the more ice is melted at the Arctic, the more heat is absorbed. The team's findings challenge the long-held assumption that the Arctic is 'reliably frozen' in winter – and they don't think they are 'an isolated occurrence'. Winter warming events in Svalbard have been a recurring phenomenon in recent decades as a consequence of human-caused climate change 'Winter warming in the Arctic has long reached melting point and is reshaping Arctic landscapes,' they conclude. 'Although the recent thaw event of February 2025 was not an isolated occurrence, witnessing it in real time served as a reminder of the accelerating pace of change, and made us wonder if we have been too cautious with our climate warnings. 'These winter warming events are seen by many as anomalies, but this is the new Arctic.' The last 10 years have been the warmest on record, characterised by devastating and extreme weather. Now, a report warns that climate change really is spiralling out of control. Predictions by the World Health Organisation (WHO) show temperatures are expected to continue at or near record levels for the next five years. If this trend continues, there will be even more harmful heatwaves, severe rainfall and floods, intense droughts, melting ice and rising sea levels, experts say. And Earth is edging closer to the threshold considered a critical tipping point for catastrophic climate consequences, they warned.
CNET
4 days ago
- CNET
I Took My Leica On a Trip to the Arctic. Here Are My Pro Tips for a Photography Adventure
Earlier this year, I traveled to Sweden to research, write and photograph a feature for CNET on why electric cars are great for winter driving. It was a huge undertaking, requiring me to travel around multiple parts of Sweden and venture north into the frozen Arctic Circle. As both a journalist and a professional photographer, it was my job to not just tell the story with my words, but to capture it on camera. That meant traveling with precisely the right equipment and knowing exactly how to use it to get the shots I'd need. From the camera gear I took with me to the difficulties of shooting on location to the thought process behind my shots, here's how I captured my story on camera. The camera gear I used Because I'd be traveling around Sweden, hopping on and off trains and planes and jumping in and out of taxis, I knew I needed to keep my setup lightweight. I didn't want to be burdened with a heavy backpack full of camera bodies and a myriad of lenses and accessories. Instead, I took just one camera: my new Leica Q3 43. Shooting stills on the frozen lake. Volvo I bought this camera for myself late last year. It combines a high-resolution, full-frame image sensor with a fixed focal length of 43mm. I love this focal length because it provides a great balance between a wide-angle view and a zoomed-in look. I often shoot on 35mm or 50mm prime lenses, so a 43mm lens that's permanently affixed to the camera is a great sweet spot for me. The result is that I had just one camera and lens to carry, keeping my pack-load down and eliminating any distracting questions in my head about which focal length to use. Instead, it encouraged me to work harder to find the best compositions. I brought a spare battery, along with a power bank to top up the camera over USB-C if I needed to (which I didn't). The only addition to my setup was a PolarPro 135 Gold Mist filter. This provides a gentle golden haze over the images that softens the sometimes harsh details of high-resolution shots and provides a slightly filmlike aesthetic that I absolutely love, and I kept this filter on the camera almost the entire time. To help protect my camera, I used a leather Oberwerth half case, which also provided extra grip -- helped too by a PolarPro thumb grip on the back. The half case also has a hidden pocket for an Apple AirTag, giving me a degree of extra peace of mind should my camera be misplaced. So that it was always ready to shoot, I often carried the camera around my neck using a Bowman Leather camera strap. Needless to say, for a $7,000 camera, I had my own photographic insurance for it, in case anything unlucky happened. When the gear wasn't in use, I carried the camera, accessories and other bits and bobs in my Wandrd Prvke backpack, which provides a secure storage section for my camera equipment, along with an expandable roll top for my jacket, hat, gloves or anything else I need to take with me. Video equipment Andrew Lanxon/CNET I also needed to shoot video on this trip, both for the CNET video that would run alongside my article, and to capture content for my personal photography YouTube channel. To help keep the weight down, I decided to buy a DJI Osmo Pocket 3 Creator Combo. This tiny, gimbal-stabilized camera captures great-looking, smooth footage and was the perfect partner for my busy schedule. I used it for capturing B-roll inside Volvo's headquarters in Gothenburg; for filming cars as they slid around on a frozen lake; and for capturing my photographic walking tours of Stockholm on one of my days off (seen embedded above). Sure, maybe the footage wasn't as cinematic as I'd normally try to achieve from my usual Canon R5, but it looked more than good enough and the DJI setup was far easier to carry around with me than a full-size mirrorless camera and lenses. Arctic photography The first destination on my trip was Volvo's HQ, where I was shown various areas used for the testing of its electric vehicles. Places like this aren't always easy to shoot. The main issue is that Volvo, understandably, isn't keen on showing off all its engineering secrets, so many areas I visited were off-limits for photography. Other spots where photos could be taken were maybe not that illustrative for my story, so it was important to work with Volvo -- as I do with any company -- to find compromises that both sides are happy with. That wasn't a problem, and I'm especially pleased with some of my imagery taken inside the company's battery testing area, which was a key subject of my written piece. As a journalist and photographer, my aim is always to rely on my own images when I'm visiting an area like this. It adds to the authenticity of the story, showing CNET's readers that I've actually been somewhere and seen something firsthand. This wouldn't be the case if I simply used images provided by the company. Things got more dramatic as I joined Volvo in the frozen north of Sweden. My trip first took me up to the Arctic Circle, to the city of Kiruna, where I not only saw inside Volvo's Arctic testing facility, but was also given the opportunity to ride a snowmobile at night across frozen lakes and through snowbound forests. Taking this image of the aurora borealis required a tripod and a slow shutter speed. Andrew Lanxon/CNET It was amazing, especially when we stopped and got a brief glimpse of the northern lights overhead. I set my camera up on my Peak Design Travel Tripod, framed my image using the snowmobiles as foreground interest and used a three-second shutter speed and ISO of 800 to capture enough light. I'm pleased with the image I was able to get. Watch this: I Drove an EV This Winter in Sweden to Prove It Could Be Done. 04:18 Frantic photos on a frozen lake We then traveled a little more south, to the city of Lulea, where we were handed the keys to Volvo's all-electric EX90 and given a route that would take us across the countryside and to an ice track Volvo had cleared on a frozen lake. I shared the driving with another journalist on this leg of the trip, giving me an opportunity to shoot out of the car window, capturing some details around the area that I felt would add some extra color and scene-setting to my story. On the lake, things were less sedate. I started off doing some of my own driving, going hell-for-leather around the course in the hopes of sending the car sideways around the corners -- and frequently spinning off the track into snow drifts. Great fun. I'd attached my DJI Osmo on a small clamp inside the car to film my efforts from multiple angles, but then it was time for me to do something a bit more dangerous. Capturing a car in motion like this is no easy task Andrew Lanxon/CNET I needed to capture images and footage of the cars driving, and that required a more complicated setup. First, I needed one of Volvo's test drivers to drive the car that would be the subject. I'd then be in a car in front, sitting in the trunk with the tailgate open, allowing me to freely photograph the car as it drove close behind us. When I do this on public roads, I wear a high-vis vest and I'm firmly attached inside the car using a safety harness. We didn't have this on the closed track, so I just had to sit in the back and try not to slide out as we took each corner. At one point I nearly did, but I kept my foot pressed hard against the side to support me, which helped. Was it safe? No, not really, and it's absolutely not something I'd have done on public roads, if nothing else, because it would've been illegal. But it was the only way I was able to get the shots I required of the cars in action. The freezing conditions and high speeds on the track meant that snow and ice billowed around me, covering me -- and the camera -- in snow. Thankfully, my Leica Q3 43 is weather-sealed, so I wasn't worried about any water damage. At the top of this article, you can see me sitting with the remnants of snow on me. Hunched in the open back of the car, I tried hard not to fall out. Volvo I used a slower shutter speed on my camera -- usually around 1/80 of a second -- which slightly blurred the motion of the car's wheels and the ground as it sped past, while hopefully keeping the car in sharp focus. I used burst mode to increase the chances of getting sharp, usable images, but even then I got only about 10 that I was happy with out of the couple of hundred I shot. But that's fine, I needed only a few to illustrate my story. I did another run, this time with my Osmo, to capture video. I did some out of the back and some out of side windows, filming both the subject car behind and some footage of the car we were driving, in order to give our talented video editors more varied footage to work with. After our last lap, the day came to an end, as did my time in Sweden. Editing and advice I shot many of the images on this trip using Leica's built-in Chrome color profile. I adore the colors and tones it provides, especially when paired with the PolarPro Gold Mist filter. But I shot my images in both JPEG and raw, allowing me to also apply my own edits to the raw files if I wanted to. For some shots -- like the ones of the cars in motion on the track -- I used my own edits, while for others I simply used the JPEG with the Chrome profile built in. The Leica's built-in colors allowed for dreamy-looking shots. Andrew Lanxon/CNET I shot many images for my own use on my travels, and the majority of my favorite shots use the built-in colors from the Leica. Don't be afraid to use these profiles, as they can offer you a great creative boost when you're out taking your images. Fujifilm's cameras (like the excellent X100VI) are famed for having a variety of stunning filmlike color profiles built in, so look toward those if you're keen on using in-camera colors. Overall, I'm really pleased with the variety of images I shot for CNET and for myself. It really helped that I kept my equipment load to a minimum, because it allowed me to be nimble and react quickly to moments when I saw them. If you're keen on taking your own travel and documentary photos like this, make sure to check out my full guide to professional travel photography. Editors' note: Travel costs related to parts of this story were covered by the manufacturer, which is common in the auto industry. The judgments and opinions of CNET's staff are our own.
%3Amax_bytes(150000)%3Astrip_icc()%2FTAL-lead-lofoten-norway-LOFOTENSUMMERS0725-d2b091cd2e584d2eb7615bd5c1c18886.jpg&w=3840&q=100)
Travel + Leisure
6 days ago
- Travel + Leisure
These European Islands Have 24 Hours of Daylight in Summer—and Sit Just Above the Arctic Circle
At some point on my second night in Norway, I stop checking my watch. Not out of laziness or an act of rebellion, but simply because it has stopped mattering. It's 11 p.m. I am standing on Reinebringen, one of Norway's most famous peaks, gazing out across the fjord below. Golden light spills across the water, casting lengthy shadows and catching the wings of gulls circling beneath. In this moment, I feel something rare: a quiet, expansive joy I haven't found in any other place I've traveled. This is my first encounter with friluftsliv . View from Offersoykammen hiking trails in Lofoten, Nordland, Norway. RolfSt/iStockphoto/Getty Images Friluftsliv— loosely meaning 'open-air life'—is a Norwegian concept rooted in finding meaning and joy in being outdoors. First coined by playwright Henrik Ibsen in 1859, it's contagious: 77 percent of Norwegians get outdoors at least once a week, and a quarter do so daily. This is perhaps one reason why Norwegians are some of the happiest folks in the world. Few places offer a better setting for exploring friluftsliv than the Lofoten Islands. North of the Arctic Circle, the seven main islands stretch across more than 100 miles of wild, pristine landscape. Mountains rise suddenly and everywhere, reflected perfectly in the still fjords and inlets beneath, as if replicating the Game of Thrones intro. They inescapably frame every village and road. The beaches, though, come as a surprise. Haukland is a perfect example and a regular entrant on lists of the best beaches in Europe: sugar-white sand, royal blue water so clear it looks tropical—until you dip your toes in and realize you're at 68 degrees north—and a silence broken only by the waves and breeze. A dog walker passes us with a cheery wave. 'Welcome to the Caribbean,' he says with a grin, barely breaking stride as we stand open-mouthed at the sweep of white sand and turquoise surf. His dog doesn't pause, either. Clearly, it's heard this line before. For beginners, it's easiest to embrace friluftsliv on Lofoten between mid-May and mid-July, when the sun never sets but lingers on the horizon like a guest reluctant to leave the party. Locals make the most of it—kayakers get out on the water before breakfast and colleagues share office gossip on after-dinner hikes. Even the Norwegian royal family is frequently spotted on Lofoten's hiking trails. 'We were slightly nervous about overtaking them' a local guide tells us. 'I mean, is curtseying a requirement halfway up a mountain?' In such lofty company, our challenge becomes how to fully embrace friluftsliv during our five days on Lofoten. The simple answer is to take advantage of the freedom of a world unruled by clocks and get outside at all hours of day and night. We start our day hiking Offersøykammen, our local hill; 10 hours later, we set out to climb Reinebringen, Lofoten's best-known trail. The 1,972 stone steps, installed by Sherpas to combat erosion, are brutal, but the summit view is breathtaking, in the most literal sense. Both hikes offer relatively short (one- to 1.5-hour) ascents, steep drops, and full panoramas revealed only in the final steps. The sun hovers low on the horizon, softly illuminating distant ridgelines, while the sheer cliffs expose the villages below: churches, football pitches, and harbors, all teeming with friluftsliv -infused Norwegians. The author kayaking with Lofoten Arctic Adventures. Travelers are catching on to the unlimited potential of 24-hour daylight and tour providers are adapting fast. Lofoten Arctic Adventures is the first tour company to offer midnight-sun kayaking on the islands. Our booking is rescheduled to mid-afternoon due to stormy weather, but in a land ungoverned by time, it hardly matters. Run by a Belgian-Czech couple, Hannelore and Jan, the tour is rich with water-bound history, from edible seaweed clinging to the rocks (surprisingly spinachy) to the social hierarchy of house colors. The iconic red rorbuer (fishermen's cabins) seen all over Lofoten once housed the thousands of fishermen who flocked here each winter for cod season. The cabins' deep red hue is down to a mix of iron oxide and fish blood. Wealthier residents marked their homes with costlier whites or yellows, a tradition that has continued for the past century. When interlopers deviate from these colors, it makes the newspapers. To Hannelore, friluftsliv means the freedom to be outside every day—on foot, on the water, wherever the light leads. They run family hikes, camping trips, and kayaking tours, and say the shift in people is almost always the same. 'Once they stop checking their watches, they start smiling more' she tells me. 'It's like their hearts have slowed down.' Jan nods, adding, 'Even the kids eventually stop asking what time it is. The parents usually thank us for that.' After multiple activities and nursing sore calves, we decide to indulge friluftsliv in a less active way. We join a RIB safari from Svolvær harbor in search of sea eagles, racing across mirrored fjords in a black inflatable boat that feels more spy novel than sightseeing. The eagles, with a wing span approaching eight feet, can spot fish from a great height and swoop in, talons outstretched, to pick up their dinner. They circle above the cliffs, unbothered and precise, leaving everybody feeling thoroughly insignificant. Oldenvatnet lake seen from the Mount Hoven skylift. estivillml/iStockphoto/Getty Images On our final evening, we take another late-night hike, choosing the over 1,200-foot Hoven, which towers above Lofoten Links, a contender for most scenic golf course in the world. The steady trail upwards is empty and, at the summit, we stand alone. Midnight comes and goes without fanfare—no darkness, no noise, just the soft crunch of boots on stone, the slow drift of gulls, and perhaps the odd sea eagle in gold-edged flight. On another trip, this hour would have found me on a subway platform or nursing a beer in a dim bar. But here, somewhere between the sea and the sky, I've stumbled into a rare kind of freedom—the kind that doesn't care what time it is or where you're supposed to be. A plane from Widerøe airlines in the sky. Reaching Lofoten is easiest by air or sea. The appealing town of Bodø (a 1.5-hour flight from Oslo) is the most convenient mainland base. Air: Widerøe operates eight daily flights from Bodø to Svolvær (Lofoten's largest town), and a similar number to Leknes, a smaller central town. Flights also run once daily from Oslo and Tromsø to Svolvær. All routes take around 30 minutes. Sea: Car ferries run up to four times daily (just over three hours) between Bodø and Moskenes at the southern tip of the archipelago. Book in advance or arrive at least two hours before departure for a walk-up fare. The views as you approach Lofoten are nothing short of spectacular. Foot passenger-only ferries also depart daily from Bodø to Svolvær (about 3.5 hours). Car: A private car is by far the best way to explore. While rentals are available in Leknes and Svolvær, it's usually much cheaper to hire in Bodø and bring the vehicle over on the ferry. Bus: Public buses are run by Reis Nordland. Download the app and view timetables. Just don't expect them to follow the midnight sun. Svolvær has the widest range of accommodations on Lofoten. Scandic Svolvær on the harbor offers simple rooms with stellar views and breakfast included. Thon Hotel nearby gains high praise for its waterside restaurant and floating sauna. Accommodations are cheaper outside Svolvær. We stayed in this delightful Airbnb close to Leknes in the center of the archipelago. It was quiet and comfortable, and within an hour's drive of all sun-chasing activities. Modernized rorbuer have become a popular self-catering accommodations. Fjord-side Lofoten Rorbu Lodge, about 10 minutes from Leknes, is an excellent choice for larger groups, accommodating up to eight travelers.
The Independent
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Independent
Why Europe's only indigenous tribe started a rap festival in the Arctic circle
It was well past midnight when Mihkku Laiti took to the stage at an open-air music festival in Utsjoki, a Finnish village nestled north of the Arctic Circle. Despite the hour, Lapland's famous midnight sun still illuminated the scene; during summer, the sun never sets in Utsjoki, which lies less than 50 kilometres from the Arctic Ocean. Under the glow of blue spotlights, Laiti, known by his stage name "Yungmiqu," captivated a crowd of over 300, many singing along and dancing. Like the majority of Utsjoki's residents, Laiti is a member of the Sámi – Europe 's only recognised Indigenous people – and he performed his raps in his native Sámi language. Laiti, the founder of the Loktafeasta rap festival, first gained prominence on the television show Talent Finland. He famously surprised the judges by rapping while wearing the gákti, the traditional Sámi dress. This distinctive attire is brightly coloured, often characterised by plaits, intricate pewter embroidery, and a high collar. The festival brought Laiti's Indigenous culture to the spotlight, though some of his fans could not understand what he was saying. That didn't seem to bother anyone at the Loktafeasta as the festival mixed performances from artists in both Sámi language and Finnish. Some drank beer and ate sausages and the crowd seemed to enjoy the summer festival atmosphere despite spells of rain. 'When I rap about my culture... I want to show how being Sámi is like from my point of view," Laiti told The Associated Press. 'Because there are many stereotypes about Sámi people and I want to like normalize ... the basic stuff we do and not romanticize those things,' he said. He added that he has not worn the gákti for performances for about a year now to show people that it is possible to be Sámi and wear whatever you want. Europe's only recognised indigenous people The Sámi traditionally live in Lapland, which stretches from northern parts of Norway to Sweden and Finland to Russia. However, of the roughly 10,000 Sámi people living in Finland, the majority now live outside their homeland. The Sámi people were oppressed for centuries by the powers that ruled and exploited their lands, including bans of the use of their native tongues and efforts to suppress their culture. In the past decades, there have been efforts to reestablish their rights, including the right to use Sámi languages which is now guaranteed in the Finnish constitution. Today, the historically semi-nomadic Sámi people have modern lifestyles. The few who still tend reindeer do so with modern vehicles, digital tools and regulated land use. However, there is an effort to preserve the Sámi's cultural identity. Distinctive Sámi clothing was worn by many at Loktafeasta, as is typical on special occasions. Artists rap in Finnish and Sámi language At the festival, Laiti mostly wanted his fans to be happy and enjoy the music. 'I want people to feel joy, of course, and I just want people to be happy that we have this kind of festival here in Utsjoki," he said with a smile. Among the other acts was a duo comprised of self-confessed old school tango crooner Jaakko Laitinen and rapper Jouni J. They also reside in Lapland and perform in Finnish. 'I see a connection from the hip hop and the tinkering with words to the old Finnish like Kalevala freestyling folk poetry," said Laitinen, referring to Finland's national epic about the Earth's creation. "So that obvious connection and the Finnish tango ... is part of our soul and heart,' he added. A world away from the birthplace of rap music in the Bronx Although the duo's songs were a world away from the birthplace of rap music in the Bronx in New York City, their performance brought joy to Utsjoki's locals and visitors. 'Music travels and music brings people together. It's the magic of the international language of music,' Laitinen said.
Al Arabiya
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- Al Arabiya
A Rap festival near the Arctic Ocean delights crowds under the midnight sun
It was well past midnight when Mihkku Laiti appeared on stage to perform at an open-air music festival in the Finnish village of Utsjoki north of the Arctic circle. Despite the time, Lapland's famous midnight sun was still up. During the summer months, the sun doesn't go down at all in Utsjoki, which is less than 50 kilometers (30 miles) from the Arctic Ocean. In the glow of blue spotlights, Laiti rapped while a crowd of more than 300 listened, some of them singing along and dancing. Like the majority of Utsjoki's residents, Laiti is a member of the Sámi—Europe's only recognized Indigenous people—and he rapped in his native Sámi language. Laiti, also known by his stage name Yungmiqu, is the founder of the Loktafeasta rap festival. He first found fame on the television show 'Talent Finland,' where he surprised the judges by rapping in the gákti, the traditional dress of the Sámi. It is brightly colored and often characterized by plaits, pewter embroidery, and a high collar. The festival brought Laiti's Indigenous culture to the spotlight, though some of his fans could not understand what he was saying. That didn't seem to bother anyone at the Loktafeasta, as the festival mixed performances from artists in both Sámi language and Finnish. Some drank beer and ate sausages, and the crowd seemed to enjoy the summer festival atmosphere despite spells of rain. 'When I rap about my culture ... I want to show how being Sámi is like from my point of view,' Laiti told The Associated Press. 'Because there are many stereotypes about Sámi people, and I want to like normalize ... the basic stuff we do and not romanticize those things,' he said. He added that he has not worn the gákti for performances for about a year now to show people that it is possible to be Sámi and wear whatever you want. Europe's only recognized indigenous people, the Sámi, traditionally live in Lapland, which stretches from northern parts of Norway to Sweden and Finland to Russia. However, of the roughly 10,000 Sámi people living in Finland, the majority now live outside their homeland. The Sámi people were oppressed for centuries by the powers that ruled and exploited their lands, including bans of the use of their native tongues and efforts to suppress their culture. In the past decades, there have been efforts to reestablish their rights, including the right to use Sámi languages, which is now guaranteed in the Finnish constitution. Today, the historically semi-nomadic Sámi people have modern lifestyles. The few who still tend reindeer do so with modern vehicles, digital tools, and regulated land use. However, there is an effort to preserve the Sámi's cultural identity. Distinctive Sámi clothing was worn by many at Loktafeasta, as is typical on special occasions. Artists rap in Finnish and Sámi language. At the festival, Laiti mostly wanted his fans to be happy and enjoy the music. 'I want people to feel joy of course, and I just want people to be happy that we have this kind of festival here in Utsjoki,' he said with a smile. Among the other acts was a duo comprised of self-confessed old school tango crooner Jaakko Laitinen and rapper Jouni J. They also reside in Lapland and perform in Finnish. 'I see a connection from the hip hop and the tinkering with words to the old Finnish like Kalevala freestyling folk poetry,' said Laitinen, referring to Finland's national epic about the Earth's creation. 'So that obvious connection and the Finnish tango ... is part of our soul and heart,' he added. Although the duo's songs were a world away from the birthplace of rap music in the Bronx in New York City, their performance brought joy to Utsjoki's locals and visitors. 'Music travels and music brings people together. It's the magic of the international language of music,' Laitinen said.
