With the Green Bay Packers down 19 to 22 against the Seattle
Seahawks going into the two minute warning of the last playoff, the idea of
shutting down the only bar playing the game in town seems not only preposterous,
but illegal. And yet, with 2:32 on the clock, the owners of O’Leary’s Bar and
Restaurant stopped its service and shut its doors to the handful of American
football fans at the top of the world. Finding some humanity in our distraught
expressions, the owners agreed to leave the monitors on and turn up the sound
outside, so that we eight still standing could watch the game through the
windows as they cleaned the tables. With limited options and a long instilled
lesson that real fans stay till the end of the game, my newfound friends and I
buttoned our jackets and embraced the midnight air. Throughout the next hour we
screamed through field goal kicks and held each other in overtime almosts. We
paced the snow with Super Bowl anxieties and looked up to the northern lights
in moments of tension. And, though the Packers lost and I may have gotten
frostbite, I’ll always look back at watching the 2015 NFC Championship Game
outdoors in the Arctic with fond 
I began my trip to Norway earlier in the week in the not-as
frozen sub-Arctic town of Bodo, about halfway up its western coast. Arriving
late in the afternoon after the sun had sunken below the horizon (Northern
Norway only gets a few hours of dawn-like light in the winter months), I hurriedly
made my way to the hotel to join the rest of the group. Though the sun’s
retreat had already plunged the village into darkness, the interior of the
hotel was brightly lit with sleek, simple white and blue lighting constructed
out of paper and blown glass – my first introduction to modern Nordic art and
design. Walking through the icy streets, the group of Emerging Leaders and
mentors made our way to a restaurant across town, where the tenants of
Scandinavian design – simplicity, minimalism, and functionality – also held
strong. After introducing ourselves and receiving a warm welcome to Norway by
the Mayor, the head chef came out and introduced our meal – a tapas sampling of traditionally prepared fermented fish, cured sausages, ash-filled cheeses, and
cloudberries.
The combination of traditional and modern followed me as a
theme throughout my trip up the coast and into the Arctic over the next two
weeks. Perhaps more so than any country I have visited, Norway has developed an
extraordinary union between its rich history and traditions and the splendor of
chic contemporary designs that came to fruition after World War II. From remote
fishing villages in the islands of the fjords to its city in the Arctic, the
ideology of finding beauty in everyday, functional objects is imbued in every
chair, doorpost, and ladle.
My trip up the coast of Norway during my first week was
filled with engaging workshops and seminars combined with cultural and
nature-oriented excursions to learn more about the costal villages at which our
steamer stopped. The topics ranged from search and rescue at the Joint Rescue
Coordination Centre, security considerations at the Norwegian Joint Military
Headquarters, diplomacy and geopolitics presented by the Canadian Ambassador
and American Consular for Political and Economic Affairs, technology and sun
activity from the Norwegian Space Centre, and presentations by oil directors
and entrepreneurs on business in the Arctic (just to name a few). Each and
every discussion was an incredible and thought-provoking experience packed with
intellectually stimulating problem solving and people-to-people cultural
exchange of how an international and interdisciplinary group of young
professional thinks through some of the biggest problems of the 21st
Century.
While the conversations I had with my peers and mentors
amongst functional modernism were awe-inspiring, they pale in comparison to
Norway’s natural beauty. From Bodo to Lofoten and all the way up to Tromso the
frozen fjords were some of most magnificent landscapes I have ever seen. With each
glance outside, I had to keep reminding myself that the scenery surrounding me
was real and not taped up drawings out of Disney’s fantastical animation
studios. The Fjords were scattered with small, rugged islands of jagged
mountains gilded with glistening ice.
The fleecy flurries of snow and coarse cliffs seem to seamlessly blend
into each other despite their contrasts under a pallet of almost-unreal hues of
blues, purples, and whites. On a cold afternoon the group suited up in brightly
colored jumpers and piled onto rubber boats to take a high-speed tour through
these Arctic islets. Making quick turns around the rocks and sudden stops to
see a sea eagle (with a wing span of six to eight
feet) majestically swoop down
to the water’s surface to pick up dinner, we sped through the fjords in a
whirlwind adventure. While the icy mountains were breathtaking, equally amazing
were the tiny fishing huts and villages speckled amongst the craggy nature.
Every so often a bright red house would spring up perched just off an island’s
edge, or rows of racks for drying cod would come into view as we twirled around
a dock. It was in those moments of glimpsing houses and docks you realize these
islands are living, breathing ecosystems. Once winter lifts, they come to life
and thrive off the marriage of fishing communities and natural wonders – a
beauty beyond seeing people and nature each in isolation.
Getting some free time from our busy schedule in Bodo before
departing, a few of us meandered through the snow-blanketed streets, weaving in
and out of art galleries along the way until we happened upon the docks.
Waiting for our steamer to pick us up and carry us along the coast to our next
destination, we watch the strength of the maelstrom take hold of the water.
(Contrary to popular belief, Maelstrom is not just a ride at Epcot filled with
trolls; it is also a very powerful whirlpool that stirs a body of water into a
free flowing vortex – nearly as scary as the one-eyed gnome that waits to push
your boat down the fall). The steamer that took us up the coast of Norway was
filled with freshly caught dinners and incredible northern lights illuminating
the night sky in lyrical pirouettes and plies, striking their green tails
across star-filled black skies.
Towards the end of our journey into the Arctic, we stopped
at Lofoten to visit the Viking Museum and partake in a traditional feast in a
reconstructed Viking home. The museum itself was based on an archeological
excavation that began in 1983 on their property. The dig uncovered the larger
house in the Viking world – both in Norway and the rest of Europe. The exhibits
are filled with finds from the chieftain’s house accompanied by an informative
(and overly dramatic) movie and audio-guide. Jewelry, swords, still-intact decorated
glass, and gold-leaf amulets each told a story of a wealthy, worldly chieftain
who traveled to Iceland and beyond. After exploring the museum, we indulged
ourselves in a Viking feast of lamb, vegetables, and plenty of mead. Sitting in
long rows around a roaring fire in a full reconstruction of the excavated
chieftain’s home, the experience was a somewhat more authentic version of
Medieval Times (sans tournament but complete with Viking dancing, singing, and cheeky
comments by our host family).
My last week of the trip was spent in Tromso, the second
largest city above the Arctic Circle at 72,000 inhabitants. Called the “Paris
of the North,” Tromso benefits from the end of the Gulf Stream, meaning that it
is considerably warmer than most other places at that latitude. Though in the
Arctic and covered in snow and ice (and no sunlight – though on my second to
last day there the sun rose for the firs time since November, which was celebrated
with sun cakes) for most of the year, Tromso is a vibrant city. Walking through
the streets lined with old wooden houses dating back to the 18th
Century you can feel the pulse of its people and culture. Although most of my
days were spent at Norway’s University in the Arctic for the Arctic Frontiers
Conference, I did get to explore the city on my days off. I visited Polaria,
the world’s most northerly aquarium housed in a striking white building
designed to represent ice floes that have been pressed up on land by the rough
seas of the Arctic. I also visited another remarkable building of architectural
note across the water on the mainland called the Arctic Cathedral. The church
is comprised of many overlapping triangles flowing into one another until they
open up onto a magnificent glass mosaic on its eastern side. While on the
mainland (Tromso is on an island within the fjord), I took a gondola up to the
top of the cliffs with a few friends where we weathered the harsh winds to see
incredible panoramas of the city and sea at dusk. Getting in one last site seeing
trip before heading back to meetings on geopolitics and oil, I made my way to
the Polar Museum, a collection of exhibits in the old Customs House (1830) that
tells the story of Arctic trapping and polar expeditions. The walls were hung
with the skins (some stuffed) of many seals, polar bears, wolves, and foxes,
interspersed with black and white photographs of Norwegians who dared to travel
to the North and South poles for hunting, adventure, and the beauty that ice
and sea travel offer.
Each night after a long day of interesting presentations I
had the opportunity to try a wide variety of Arctic fare - reindeer, cod, salmon, seal, and whale (though I didn’t taste the latter two) - and hear many different sounds of the Arctic – opera, jazz, electronic music, and a beautiful performance called Kaffekopp og salmebok,
a modern take combining stories from Sami and Kven culture in music and
visuals. It was after one of these pampering nights of food and culture that I
found myself cheering for Rogers to hand it off to Lacy in between chattering
teeth and shivers. As the only one in the crowd rooting for the Packers, the walk
back to our hotel was a divided one filled with occasional hugs and murmurs of
“the Hawks shouldn’t have won that game.”
More and more, the world is filled with dichotomies. From
football to nationalism, income to religion, it seems near impossible to get
through a day without aligning yourself with a side opposing some sort of
‘other,’ whether that be the other team, the other party, or the other people.
And yet, now more than ever before the international community has both the
means and the reasons to come together to undertake the biggest challenges
facing our shared planet. Our feats in bridging oceans with satellite
communication and planes, in overcoming national biases to back United Nations
efforts to end Ebola and fight extreme poverty, and in building multinational
centers for scientific development both on earth and in space all hold
testament to what we can accomplish when we combine passion and collaboration.
My two weeks in Norway were spent with emerging leaders from
over a dozen countries and many nations of people. We were scientists and oil
workers; bankers and policy makers; educators and fishermen. We held different
political and religious beliefs, and often found ourselves in heated debates
over elections and development. And yet, rather than let our differences define
our shared time, we came together through our mutual, passionate desire to see
the Arctic and its people happy, healthy, productive, and safe in the face of
melting ice, shoreline erosion, and extreme remoteness. Admiral Papp, the U.S.
Special Representative to the Arctic who will take on the chairmanship of the
Arctic Council in a few months, spoke of “One Arctic” while in Tromso, wherein country
leaders, residents, and researchers come together to make the Arctic a better
place to live and work. Amongst our diverse group of friends, we embodied that
hope of caring cooperation for the betterment of something bigger than
ourselves – an ideal more inspiring than any fjord or Scandinavian design. And
so, though I won’t be rooting for the Seahawks today, I know those American
Arctic workers who will be in Oslo, Ottawa, DC, and beyond are still on my
team, and that together we will draw up plays and move down the field until we
reach our goal.
