Porjus, Lapland celebrates its centenary
Guest writer and photographer David Hay Jones takes a stroll around his former home village of Porjus in Swedish Lapland. He remembers the villages with great fondness. It was once a hub of economic growth as construction of hydro power along the Lule River provided jobs and money. Now, the village is in slow decline with only a few hundred inhabitants and a tiny economic base.
Porjus, a village in Swedish Lapland between Jokkmokk and Gellivare, celebrated 100 years in the summer of 2009. It was an important centenary. Porjus, one of the pioneering centers of the hydro electric industry in Sweden, has played a vital role in the industrialization of the country.
Social democracy
Swedish social democracy, a mild form of socialism which strongly emphasized fairness and equality, was an alternative to American style capitalism and Soviet communism. Often called the "Third Way", it gave the citizens of Sweden one of the highest standards of living in the world, plus a welfare state that was the envy of many nations.
Anyone who has had the misfortune to see Pixie Geldof on the runway will long for the end of this demi-celeb madness, where anyone with two legs, a bit of cheek, and outrageously bad taste is allowed to "model" clothes that some poor soul has taken time to design. Pixie is rather like Susan Boyle, a woman who can't quite believe her good fortune. There she is with no discernible talent, nothing approaching good looks or a decent figure and she is allowed to sit front row alongside the likes of Anna Wintour, editor in chief of American Vogue.
Sweden's Klondyke
Sweden's affluence was built on and in such places as Porjus. The working conditions were harsh, intolerable by today's standards. You have to travel to Russia, China, or Africa to witness the type of Klondyke atmosphere that swept across northern Sweden 100 or so years ago.
Class differences were huge between haves and have-nots, and the local indigenous population, the Sami (or Lapps as they were then called) were mostly ignored or brushed aside. Nothing could stand in the way of what was seen as the greater goal of providing the nation with inexpensive electricity from its untamed northern rivers.
In the 1980s and 90s, the welfare state and the distinctive brand of Swedish socialism were more or less dismantled. I lived in Porjus through the 1990s and saw the last bricks being removed: the soccer field falling into disuse; closure of the post office and the swimming pools (outdoor and indoor); disbanding of many social clubs and organizations (my favorite was the photo club with excellent dark room); hydro workers made unemployed, a number of them encouraged to start their own businesses which folded a few years later.
Reorganization of the state-owned hydro company, Vattenfall, was inevitable. As in most state-run enterprises, efficiency and productivity were not the highest priorities. Many Vattenfall workers, it turned out, did very little work and weren't needed.
Vattenfall
I had a few jobs on the fringes of Vattenfall during the 90s, the type of job that was intended to mask unemployment. Most of my working days comprised drinking coffee and sitting by bonfires. We weren't given clear instructions about what it was we were supposed to do, and no one bothered checking on us. I was paid for being idle, which was by no means an extraordinary situation back then.
Walking round the village during its 100th year is a sad experience. There are only hints of Porjus' former glory, and there is plenty of evidence its decline has not been halted. It's touching to see the dozens of sheds, cabins, and shacks knocked together by amateur carpenters with whatever materials they could find. They tell of a time when people had stuff to store: boats, nets, equipment of one sort or another.
Wherever you walk there are timber buildings requiring attention. For some houses a lick of paint of paint would do the job, while for others demolition would be the kindest solution. The forests and marshes of Lapland are rapidly reclaiming the edges of the village as shacks, cabins, sheds, and boathouses collapse through neglect.
A tour of Porjus is a poignant reminder that timber-built houses and cabins will not last 100 years, not even 50 years, unless they are lived in and maintained. Roofs collapse, window panes shatter, doors bow and buckle in the harsh Lapland climate.
Laponia heritage site
Looking for signs of contemporary activity, go-ahead spirit, I visited some of the few new buildings, the most impressive of which is Laponia Porten, an imposing timber-structure celebrating the fact that Porjus is a self-proclaimed gateway to Laponia, a UNESCO world heritage area. Inside, the building is a disappointment. A grindingly dull piece of music illustrating a slide show gnawed away in the background like a frustrated mosquito. The slide loop was repeated at least 10 times while I was there, forcing me to ask the person at the information desk to turn it off.
Porjus will always have a role as an electricity-producing center, but that is not where its jobs growth will be. Like many abandoned and declining villages in remote areas, Porjus is pinning some of its hopes on tourism.
The prospects for the tourist trade are not overwhelmingly bright. A few people might be able to make a living catering to passing trade wanting an inexpensive bed for the night. There might be scope for a few tours up the Lule River, or in the woods, or nearby mountains, but this will never provide a living for more than a couple of people, and even then they will probably have to combine their tourist work with whatever odd jobs they can find.
The bright spot on the horizon is the establishment of a solar panel factory, which appears to be doing very well. Whether it will be viable in the long term remains to be seen, but so far it is employing a number of locals and turning out solar panels as quickly as it can. There is also an excellent Northern Lights gallery in the village (set to close in 2009) where top-class accommodation can be had for a reasonable price.
Vast wilderness
The Laponia World Heritage area is the largest protected wilderness in Europe and comprises glaciated mountains (Sarek), huge lakes (Padjelanta), alpine landscapes, enormous expanses of wetland (Sjaunja), and old growth forest (Stora Sjofallet). Close to Porjus is also the Muddus National Park, an area of ancient forest and wetlands, plus some deep gorges and waterfalls.
If you take time and pay attention, you can see wolverine, lynx, European brown bear, Arctic fox, moose, and reindeer. You can also see sea eagles, golden eagles, peregrine falcons, skuas, siberian jays, and ptarmigan, to name just a few favorite birds. Nothing could persuade me to part with my second home in Porjus, not even the proverbial million dollars.
Porjus Fact File
Construction of the first power station in Porjus began in 1910. In order to control the irregular flow of the Lule River, a number of dams upstream of Porjus were planned. The most important of these was Suorva in the uninhabited mountains.
At this time, the nation was crying out for inexpensive electricity. It would enable rapid industrialization, lessen the dependence on imported coal, and people would have a clean, domestic alternative to stinking paraffin lamps with which to light their homes.
The First World War, which brought food shortages and demonstrations to Sweden even though the country did not take part in the war, hurried the development of hydro power.
People worked in conditions which would not be tolerated today. Long hours, unrelenting physical toil and sacrifice, a harsh climate, few, if any luxuries, and basic, humble housing were features of working life back in the early days of industrialization.
David Hay Jones
David is a photographer for the Science Photo Library in London. He has just completed a book of nature photographs to be published in the United States in 2011.
Today, when electricity can be controlled by computers and the press of a button, it is easy to overlook that hydro electric power was built by hard physical labor. All the materials to build the power stations and dams were dragged there by horse, boat, or human effort. Only later was a railroad built, and later still roads.
A visit to Porjus, especially its wonderful hydro museum in the old power station, is a humbling experience. There you will see photographs depicting conditions back in the early 1900s. The people of Sweden owe a huge debt of gratitude to the men and women who built Porjus and developed hydro electric power along the Lule River.