Sami People’s Joik: More than A Song
The Sápmi region of Scandinavia is frequented by visitors for their famed Northern lights every year. Whilst the natural phenomenon is a tick away on anyone’s bucket list, the Sami, the region’s indigenous is often overlooked.
The cold clambered up from my feet to my neck. My legs were crossed with my hands cupped on my knees. I came underdressed, with my single windbreaker and warmers underneath, on the occasion. Sure, the snow outside the teepee type of shelter they called lavvo, was shockingly a whirlwind causing a white-out with minimal to zero visibility. I could listen to the sound of puddles of snow melting. The slick of everyone’s puddles sang a unique symphony against their boots as they entered the heated tent for the cultural lecture.
I was growing frustration because of the untimely winter weather, however, for the Samis who manned this conservation area for decades, the place seemed to be their only home. My unlikely mood was taken aback, tamed.
“When I was there in Tromso, I shifted in the realisation that Norway was also the Land of Samis..”
Last year in August, I was eyeing this country for my birthday. I would try out the extremes of temperature for a holiday and unarguably to my birth month January, I could’t choose any other season except winter. Norway, the land of Fjords, also for me, is the Land of reindeers of the North Pole. When I was there in Tromso, I shifted in the realisation that Norway was also the Land of Samis, the joiking people who grew affection and close connection to nature.
We were all in the teepee by the time the female Sami entered. Her pale face and round eyes caught my attention at first; she resembled a Caucasian descent and the rest of her was covered by a Gakti and other ornaments, Sami’s traditional wear nonetheless. I was gawking my neck around the cone-shaped, portable shelter made sturdy of frames that can defy the fickle winds that fight against it during these times.
I was in the middle of my rumination when the female Sami heaved a breath only to start a melody at the back of her throat. A joik.
Joik, more than a sound, is a Culture
“Theyo-loyla, theyo-loyla…” her voice occupied the entire space. All ears were out, stuck to hear the zinger of vibrato from her voice.
According to Hämäläinen, S, et.al. (2018), Joik makes use of a whole range of the person’s natural voice and was originally without any instruments on the background. In addition, it was a vocal musical expression of anything at the yoiker’s perception at the given moment like landscapes, animals, birds and other people.
“…it was a song of a joiker’s heart. Its attention was earned and paid.”
As per to the yoikers, you don’t yoik about something, you yoik the thing itself. It is like a direct communication with the innermost being of the object/subject being yoiked.
When the female Sami was asked what the song was about, she replied that the song was frequently chanted by Sami hunters when they rest in between hunting. She sang the joik comprised of a single lyric in repetition, different pitches and tones playing to make up a song about something. I honestly didn’t get any word and what each word really meant but overhearing the plainness of lyrics, it was a song of a joiker’s heart. Its attention was earned and paid.
Joik, more than a song, was History
There are different types of Sami in the Laplands. The area is close to the Artic encompassing the Northern parts of Norway, Sweden, Finland and Kola Peninsula of Russia. These Samis although lived in variations of their languages share one of the commonalities, the ability to joik.
Similar to the problems of indigenous people anywhere, the tendency of acculturation was felt by Sami people until it was silenced and muted for decades for few reasons.
“Sami children had to learn and speak Norwegian and halted in using their native tongue.”
The period of Acculturation was from 1851 to 1959. It was almost a century of turmoil for the Sami people. The Norwegian government led the idealisation to unify the nation with monocultural norms, and that transcended the idea of creating a uniform Norwegian culture irrespective to the tenure the Sami had created for centuries.
During these times, Sami children had to learn and speak Norwegian and halted in using their native tongue. The joiking had raised eyebrows of the authorities believing that it was part of shamanistic rituals and Christian missionaries condemned the joik to be the one “Serving the Devil”.
During the assimilation period, the practice of joik wilted in the hearts of the natives and seemingly vanished in the wake of modernization.
Joik, more than a hymn, is Survival
In between these times, the Sami had felt the right to speak and became part of national assemblies to amend and rectify the rights of the indigenous group. It led to the creation of Sami Act. A part and parcel of the United Nation General Assembly in 2011 states, “it is the responsibility of the authorities of the State to create conditions enabling the Sámi people to preserve and develop its language, culture and way of life.”
Revived from almost a century of shock to Sami civilisation, the Sami language were back in schools and festivals. Alongside the revival, the joik was embraced in the culture and later evolved and incorporated with different music styles.
“…faith in one’s heritage and values makes a community foundation unshakeable.”
“Joik is the language of the heart. It’s pride. Personal. Complexity. Identity. Memories. Soul. Spirituality.” Elle Márjá Eira, a multi-talented artist from Kautokeino in Northern Norway.
Joik, more than a personal composition, is a story of triumph in a nutshell. A story of underprivileged people that proved that faith in one’s heritage and values makes a community foundation unshakeable.
“Theyo-loyla, theyo-loyla…” the female Sami ended her performance.
By this time, the Male Sami fed some logs into the bonfire sending flickers and more smoke up in the air. They sidled through the hole up the tent that peered towards the Arctic coldness there was. Our hands and feet were warmed by the heat circling around. Some stood by their feet and gave her applause. I was on my seat, clapping my now warmed hands. It could be the same warmth that embraced the return of joik to the Samis. Deservingly on their own right, Sami’s success made the culture running and we still yet to see them joiking in more generations and centuries to come.
