Spitsbergen: journey to the North Pole. How the Russian heritage of Svalbard is perceived

Life originated on Spitsbergen from coal. About a century ago, miners from the United States came to Longyearbyen in search of coal. Russian and Norwegian settlements and mines coexist peacefully on Svalbard.

Longyearbyen still has the spirit of a mining town, although the lion's share of coal is now mined in a mine outside the city. All the ancient mines, supports for coal transporters, and collectors are preserved in the city. This is the only place in Norway where electricity comes from a coal plant.

Of course, the service sector now provides far more jobs in the city than coal mining. In the city center there is the Radisson Blu hotel, several sports shops, a post office, a bank, a pharmacy, a community center, and a Svalbardbutikken grocery supermarket. The largest building in the city is located near the shore - Svalbard International University or UNIS.

Now science is an integral part of life in Longyearbyen. Every year hundreds of students and dozens of teachers from all over the world come here. Mostly, of course, Norwegians, Swedes, Danes, Russians, Americans, Canadians and Germans. But it’s difficult to say which countries have no representatives here at all.

UNIS consists of four faculties: biology, geology, geophysics and technology. Biologists study the flora and fauna of the Arctic; geologists - glaciers, seismicity, stratigraphy; geophysics - satellite observations, meteorology, plasma physics, technology - foundations on permafrost, offshore structures and loads on them. Of course, almost all students from Russia are technologists.

Each semester includes 2-4 courses in individual disciplines. Lecturers from various countries talk mainly about what they themselves do within the discipline. During the month and a half that I spent here, we had lecturers from Norway (climate models, construction in permafrost zones), Austria (protection against avalanches, mudflows and rockfalls), the USA (rock mechanics) and Canada (tidal physics). Each course ends with an exam, of course. Its form depends on the faculty and discipline. Almost all courses contain laboratory and field research on everything from tide levels and fjord current patterns to the study of auroras (of course, geophysicists do this).

Many students live outside the city: in the village of Nibien, which is three kilometers from the university, and a hundred meters above it, next to Mount Sarcophagus. Once upon a time, Nibien was miners' barracks near new mines.

Every day we joyfully go down to the university. In front of us, like the Australian Ayers Rock, lies the neighboring shore of the fjord with Mount Hortfjellet, sometimes stone, sometimes covered with snow, sometimes hidden behind the clouds. Between the university and the barracks is Svalbardhallen, which has everything for sports fans. There is a 25-meter swimming pool, a gym, a climbing wall, and a hall for football, basketball, volleyball and bandy.

The city itself is full of children, there are several schools and kindergartens. And for older people there is a cinema, various bars, and something like a club. But what they like to do most after class is go to the mountains. The whole of Svalbard is covered with many different peaks, bays, glaciers, ice caves. Slopes, snowboarders, snowmobiles, skis. It's all about Spitsbergen.

It’s like in a very simple world, where you put together the mosaic of your life yourself. Svalbard is freedom for consciousness. Sit all night in a cozy computer class at UNIS, spend the whole weekend in the mountains, choose and enjoy the silence and freshness.

1 View Longyearbyen from the Plateau

2 Nibien is a place where miners once lived, and now students

3 Ground water supply

4 Coal collector

5 View from Mount Sarcophagus

6 Hagen, sports center (swimming pool, gym, indoor multi-purpose field)

7 Guest houses

8 UNIS

9 Login to UNIS

10 Upper Longyearbyen

11 Road to UNIS

12 House of Culture

13 Monument to miners in the center of Longyearbyen

14 Grocery store Svalbardbutikken

15 Grocery store Svalbardbuttiken

16 Shops in Longyearbyen

17 Croix, the best bar in Longueurien

18 Hagen, settlement between Longyearbyen and Nibien

19 view from the UNIS computer room

Audience 20 at UNIS

21 UNIS

22 UNIS

23 UNIS

24 Dining room at UNIS

Text: Nazilya Zemdikhanova

The thing I've been most successful in my life at is the "What if...?" game. I love to spontaneously buy a ticket and go in an unexpected direction. How events will unfold, what ideas life will throw at me, what people I will encounter and what will follow after all this is like watching a TV series with my own participation.

For the last five years I have worked as a freelance web designer. This allowed me to manage my own time independently, gave me freedom of movement and a good salary. I am fundamentally against staying in my comfort zone for a long time. But that time everything happened against my will: a car taken on credit, an accident, insurance compensation for an oncoming car. To solve the problem, I took on an endless queue of projects, and all my time was consumed by work.

Then the idea of ​​northern therapy came to my mind - I adore winter, snow, frost. I was looking at a map of Russia, looking for the most remote settlements, and by chance I learned about the village of Barentsburg on the Spitsbergen archipelago. But less than a week after buying the ticket, the enthusiasm faded and the prospect of staying at home at the computer began to seem not so bad - it was much more comfortable than going on a long journey. There were minimal expectations for the upcoming trip. However, just a few hours after the plane landed on the archipelago, I decided to stay and live here. I've been asked why more than once, and I sincerely shrugged. Mountains, snow, ocean - yes, but what is more important is that I finally felt like I was where I needed to be, as if I had arrived home after a long trip.

I immediately liked the regularity of Arctic life. There are wooden houses around, occasionally snowmobiles pass by, people walking with dogs or on skis. I walked from morning to evening, just breathed clean air and observed the local way of life. I spent two of my three weeks in Svalbard in the Russian village of Barentsburg. Already fully confident that I was planning to settle on the archipelago, I came to the Grumant Arctic Tourism Center and asked for a job. I was offered to become a guide and part-time designer. So the opportunity to live in the Arctic began to turn into reality. It was autumn 2014.

Barentsburg

The contract with Arktikugol, and with it a new life, began in January 2015. The polar night on the archipelago lasts until the end of February, so when my other employees and I flew up to Spitsbergen, only the lights of the runway were visible from the plane in the pitch darkness. We were met at the airport by a Mi-8 service helicopter. At that time, this was the only way to get to Barentsburg.

About four hundred people live and work in the village, all of them, without exception, for the state trust. In winter, you can get from the airport to the village by snowmobile, in summer - by boat. Many workers come for a couple of years at a time, so they don’t have snowmobiles or boats. It is almost impossible for an ordinary worker to get out of the village on his own, and it is not recommended, since there is always a chance of meeting a bear. In recent years, coal mining has not been able to provide people with a decent life, so Barentsburg has high hopes for tourism, because many are interested in the Arctic and Russian culture.

I stayed in a hostel with other guys. I had more than enough living space, but there was little personal space: we all shared one, albeit large, room. In the hostel, I constantly had the feeling of a communal apartment: either someone was organizing night gatherings, or there were people I didn’t know well in the room. Unfortunately, we were never able to get along: conflicts constantly arose over everyday issues, and we did not get along with someone in character.

I deliberately chose a reality without friends and usual entertainment: no sincere conversations over a mug of coffee, going to exhibitions and movies, no opportunity to pick up and go somewhere for a couple of days simply because I want to. In difficult moments, I looked at the northern lights, rejoiced at the screaming arctic foxes outside the window and fed timid short-legged deer. I gave up what was previously so important to me to maintain my morale, for the sake of the cold winds and a new life. This was my personal challenge.

In difficult moments, I looked at the northern lights, rejoiced at the screaming Arctic foxes outside the window and fed timid short-legged deer

In February, the first tourists appeared - they came in organized groups from Longyearbyen, Norway on snowmobiles. My task was to give them a tour of the village and briefly tell them its history. At that time, I barely had enough English and I didn’t have even a dozen public appearances. But the desire to tell excursions in an interesting way pushed me to develop further; In addition, in my free time I started studying Norwegian.

One day I went to Longyearbyen for work. Driving a snowmobile for the first time turned out to be quite difficult: I had to constantly concentrate on the road, cope with the cold, which still made its way through a ton of clothing, and get used to the incessant noise of the engine. In neighboring Longyearbyen, compared to Barentsburg, the activity was off the charts: there were a lot of people, snowmobiles, and dogs. The day then turned out to be wonderful, and it was as if for a moment I had returned to the world of something new and exciting.

Another big event took place in March - a solar eclipse. Due to the influx of tourists, we worked a lot, sometimes for several weeks without days off. True, the irregular schedule did not affect the salary, and this increased the tension between management and subordinates. At first you are glad that, in principle, you are on Spitsbergen, but then you realize that there are difficulties here and there is nowhere to go - the only thing left to do is return home. But the hardest thing was to cope with the lack of communication. I’m not the most open person and able to entertain myself, but it was still felt: I missed my friends and acquaintances. I promised myself: everything will be over soon, you just need to be patient a little, be strong, no matter how hard it is.

In mid-May, the winter season ended and we began preparations for the summer. Even then there were problems with food in Barentsburg. Vegetables, fruits and dairy products were brought once a month by ship or plane. People stood in line for several hours to have time to buy at least something fresh. Many were sold out in a couple of days. Expired products were also used, and at the same prices. In order to somehow save money and not spend everything on expensive products, I switched to cereals and canned food, supplementing them with bread, butter and condensed milk. The local canteen helped diversify the diet: soups, salads, chops, cutlets and compote at reasonable prices. True, even there the menu was repeated day after day.

By the end of the season, relations with management had completely broken down, and I had to think about changes. I left Barentsburg a month and a half before the end of the contract and decided never to return there. But I didn’t want to leave the archipelago itself. There is something magical about Svalbard that attracts you.

Longyearbyen

While the polar night was in Spitsbergen, I was on the mainland and was thinking about how I could stay in the Norwegian village of Longyearbyen: life there seemed promising and more diverse compared to Barentsburg. The Schengen visa, which expired in January, decided a lot. You don’t need a visa on the archipelago itself, but to transit through Oslo you can’t do without it. I doubted it for a long time, but in the end I packed my things and decided to go. The risk paid off. I was incredibly lucky, and a job was found the next day: one of the hotels urgently needed a person at the reception, and I already had experience working in a hotel, I knew English and a little Norwegian, so they hired me.

Longyearbyen is a multinational city: about two and a half thousand people from more than forty countries live here. The goal of many of them is not Arctic romance, but the opportunity to make money. In many ways, the conditions here are similar to those on the mainland: there is a large supermarket, post office, hospital, school, kindergarten, restaurants, bars, hotels and even a university.

There is always a risk of encountering a polar bear, so carrying a weapon is not only allowed, but recommended; carbines and pistols can even be bought through a Facebook group

The first thing that catches your eye in the city is the abundance of snowmobiles. They are located everywhere: in organized parking lots, near private houses, in fields, in valleys. You immediately feel like a free person when you get such opportunities for movement. The second thing that attracts attention is that ordinary people carry large-caliber firearms with them. Since there is always a risk of meeting a polar bear outside the city, carrying a weapon is not only allowed, but also recommended. Surprisingly, carbines and pistols can be bought both in the store and through a Facebook group. Despite this, the crime rate in the city is close to zero.

I started working at the hotel when other staff were still on vacation. In addition to working with reservations and checking in guests, I had some other responsibilities: breakfast, cleaning, 24-hour telephone, mail and financial reports. In a short period of time, I figured out in detail how the hotel worked, and I seemed to be doing a pretty good job.

The most wonderful time in the city is April. The valleys are turning into snowmobile highways, people are preparing for a ski marathon, and many wealthy travelers are coming to Longyearbyen for an expedition to the North Pole. I threw myself into work: there weren’t enough employees and the working day stretched for eleven hours. This time all overtime was paid additionally.

I met several Russian-speaking guys, and we spent time together whenever possible. In winter, they could take a snowmobile and go to the other side of the fjord to drink tea and cookies. I loved to go skiing or climb one of the many mountains to watch the sunset - it's easy to be closer to nature when it starts right on your doorstep. On a polar day it was especially nice to have a barbecue near the house or on the shore of the fjord. Summer on Svalbard is quite cool, you almost always wear a jacket and a hat, but you can wear sunglasses even at night.

But despite significant changes in the second year of life on Spitsbergen, after several months the feeling of dissatisfaction returned. The days turned into a simple work-home routine. It seemed that nothing had fundamentally changed in two years, that I still couldn’t manage my time as I wanted. The quality of life became much better, but I didn’t notice it: I focused on what wasn’t done and didn’t take into account the small steps forward. I again convinced myself that I just needed to be patient a little, work some more, as if this were some kind of race, and the desired prize was ahead. I’m ashamed to admit that all this happened to me in such an incredible place as Spitsbergen, where a person, it would seem, should feel happy and free.

What's next

Vacation helped me shake myself up and look around again. I began to rejoice at every improvement, every new step. Now the mountains and the bay are visible from my house. In spring and autumn, I never tire of being amazed by the beauty and variety of sunrises, and in the summer, when the belugas swim, I meditatively watch them through the window. I appreciate the ability to jump on skis or get on a snowmobile at almost any time and within a few minutes find myself in an endless valley. I'm still impressed by the northern lights, the huge bright blue glaciers and the marshmallow-like snow-capped mountains.

MURMANSK, October 19 - RIA Novosti, Anastasia Yakonyuk. In the departure hall of a Norwegian airport, after checking in for a flight to Spitsbergen, the border guard dispassionately stamps on the passport: “left Norway.” No one makes a note about their arrival on the archipelago, and according to the documents, the person who arrived here ends up “nowhere” - as if “in another dimension.”

And not only according to documents - life on this edge of the earth is so different from the mainland way of life that you will not immediately understand what really exists and what just seems, in what time you find yourself and in what country.

However, you won’t be able to get lost here: there are only a few large settlements on Svalbard, fairly divided between Norwegians and Russians.

Norwegian Longyearbyen is the capital of the archipelago and the world's northernmost settlement with a population of over a thousand people - a local metropolis. It received its unpronounceable name (the Norwegians further complicated it to Longyearbyen) from an American engineer who founded a coal mine here. In addition to the mine, Longyearbyen has an airport, a university, a museum, a school and a kindergarten.

Just a couple of decades ago, Russian Barentsburg was significantly ahead of Longyearbyen in terms of population. Now between 300 and half a thousand people live here, depending on the time of year. The mine remains the center of life; there is also a Russian consulate, a cultural center, a sports complex and a bust of Lenin.

The third settlement can be called an “uninhabited” area - the former Russian village of Pyramid, where over a thousand people lived. Today, with its houses, cultural center, sports complex and swimming pools, it has turned into an open-air museum.

Sharp mountains in a cold land

The relief here seems to be drawn with a ruler - it is no coincidence that the word “Spitsbergen” is translated as “sharp mountains”. However, the Norwegians call the archipelago “Svalbard” - which in turn means “cold region”. This combination - pointed peaks and icy waters - has been the usual scenery of life on Spitsbergen for five centuries, according to researchers.

The archipelago was ceded to Norway in 1920, but with a caveat: all countries that signed the Spitsbergen Treaty in Paris could conduct economic and scientific activities here. There were about forty of them, but, apparently, the fierce Arctic winds cooled the political fervor of most of the applicants and in the 21st century only Norwegians and Russians remained on Svalbard.

Longyearbyen - the city of the polar bear

The doors of houses and cars are not locked here: firstly, even if someone covets someone else’s property, they won’t carry it far - there is water all around. Secondly, everyone knows each other and stealing from a neighbor is like spitting in a well. And finally, an unlocked door may one day save the real owner of the archipelago - the polar bear - from attack.

There are slightly fewer polar bears here than there are residents. That’s why there are kind of barriers around the outlying houses, kindergartens resemble fortresses, and when leaving the house for a walk, everyone takes a gun with them.

However, shooting at the owner of the archipelago is only possible as a last resort: in all other cases, experienced hunters advise carefully moving sideways out of the animal’s field of view. At the same time, attacks by bears on people happen here almost every year, only this summer such an encounter ended tragically - a polar bear killed one of the British tourists who set up a camp on the property of the owner of the archipelago.

You can see a clubfoot at any time of the year, but this fall it’s not just bears that pose a danger to local residents. In arctic foxes and deer. This virus has not been seen on Svalbard for 30 years. Hunters and scientists blame Russian defectors, suggesting that it was foxes and arctic foxes who brought rabies from Siberia over the ice.

However, ordinary Longyearbyen residents have no time to find out the reasons: they need to get five vaccinations in a month - then a person will not face rabies. The danger comes not only from foxes and arctic foxes, but also from reindeer: every resident of the archipelago has the right to kill one deer per season.

“I, as a hunter, must deliver the lower jaw of the shot animal to the governor. Since the virus is transmitted through saliva, it can be detected, and thus control is carried out,” said one of the hunters in the village, Olaf Store.

But those who will never become carriers of rabies are cats: keeping them in Longyearbyen has been strictly prohibited since 1988 (although, they say, the Barentsburg cats do not know about this).

Another sign of Longyearbyen is shoe racks in every establishment: be it a museum, a school or a fashionable hotel. This tradition is a legacy of the miners' way of life: most residents worked in the mine, and upon entering the premises, everyone had to take off their shoes so as not to bring coal dust into the house.

Dying and being born is prohibited by law

Although Spitsbergen is a Norwegian territory, it largely lives by its own laws. They are dictated not only by the king and god - the governor of the archipelago, who is endowed with significantly broader powers than the head of any other province, but also by life itself in extreme conditions.

Only the able-bodied population has the right to be here; travel to the archipelago is closed for the unemployed and pensioners. Those who live here for 10-15 years are real legends of the island - old-timers.

In Longyearbyen it is forbidden by law to die - there is no cemetery here, and if someone is about to leave this world, he must first leave Svalbard. However, it won’t be possible to be born here either - all pregnant women go to the “Mainland”.

An employee of a travel company, Stine, has two children. “They were born on the mainland, in Tromso - for the last weeks they had to live with friends; we don’t have our own housing on the mainland. It’s good that dad managed to make it in time for the birth of the children, otherwise it would have been completely sad,” says Stine.

They moved here, like many other Norwegians, in search of romance and decent income - they became uninterested in the comfortable and quiet part of Norway. They did not immediately get used to the peculiarities of the local way of life, but now they doubt whether it is worth leaving.
“We don’t feel cut off from the world. It’s almost never boring here: we have many different events, festivals, tourism is developing, people are changing. True, life here is too expensive. For example, beer in the store is cheaper than milk. To me with two children you have to choose milk,” says Stine.

Svalbard has a duty-free zone, so beer and other alcohol are temptingly available here. However, in the local supermarket alcohol is sold only by ticket - within three days from the date of arrival. When buying drinks, tickets are stamped, and you cannot buy them a second time. You can also buy alcohol in specialized stores, but only with special cards that limit the supply of alcoholic products - 24 cans of beer and two liters of strong alcoholic drinks per person per month.

3 September 2015, 14:56

Repost from Sergei Dolya's LJ:

Walking around Longyearbyen, Norway, I couldn’t help comparing it with our remote northern cities, where I’ve been more than once. And the comparisons, as you understand, were not in favor of the latter. Is there separate waste collection and a recycling plant in our Pevek? Is there a youth playground with a ramp in Teriberka? Alas.

In this post I tried to show everyday life and how Norwegians live in the northernmost settlement in the world...

This striking photo was taken at two in the morning. As you understand, it is now a polar day in Svalbard:

The Norwegian house colors look really cool. It seems bright, but at the same time very organic. In our northern cities and even in Barentsburg, facades are painted differently. A miss by a semitone immediately catches your eye:

Geometry:

Let's go into the courtyards. The first thing that catches your eye is the snowmobiles. They are left as is for the summer (well, maybe some are covered with a cover):

There are dozens of different types of snowmobiles - with sidecars, open, closed and others. Snowmobiles are the main means of transportation in winter:

No one is worried about safety; there is no theft on Longyearbyen. Probably because it’s impossible to steal something here and go unnoticed:

This snowmobile was apparently left on the side of the road in winter, where it remained all summer:

Cotton grass is blooming all around - the only flower on the archipelago:

Non-tourist area. Bridges across city communications. Note the neat walking path:

Some examples of buildings that the Norwegians build. In addition to small single-family houses, there are two-story long buildings:

There are many typical houses with this design:

Playground. The swing looks like it was assembled from scrap materials:

Almost every family has its own entrance from the street and a veranda:

In front of the entrance, as a rule, all belongings and small things are stored, which necessarily includes skis and bicycles:

There are six taxi cars in the city. You can see them quite often on the street - the local population doesn’t have cars, and you can’t ride a snowmobile in the summer:

More houses. Each yard has its own garbage container (in the photo it is dark green behind the brown booth). Separate collection is practiced:

Moreover, there is a waste processing plant on Lognyir. Everything that is collected in the city is immediately recycled:

The tin cans in the container reminded me of the houses here (not in shape, of course, but in color):

Spitsbergen "rainbow":

University.

The center of attraction for local youth is the ramp:

There are two kindergartens in the city. These are the only places where photography is prohibited, as the signs on the fence remind you of. I made a general plan of the building without people:

It is also prohibited to walk dogs near the kindergarten:

There is even a limousine in Longyearbyen. I don’t know why and who has such a need, but nevertheless:

There are two gas stations in the city:

The car with the flashing light belongs to the airport service. In winter there is a polar night here and you cannot do without an additional headlight:

Local. There is a gun wrapped in a blue rag (above the backpack). Almost everyone here has a weapon as a means of repelling polar bears. Many people walk with him on the street. There are rifle rentals for tourists:

I was embarrassed to run ahead and take pictures, but this is the mayor of Loghira:

I came across deer again:

I went to a local store to look at the selection and prices. Yogurts cost from 150 to 250 rubles (18-34 crowns):

A dozen eggs - 420 rubles (53 crowns):

Apples from 200 to 300 rubles per kilo, pears - 340:

Bread from 250 to 380 rubles (32-48 CZK):

A kilogram of lemons - 400 rubles:

Sweets and bars - 120-240 rubles:

In the capital of Spitsbergen there is a “Russian House” - a hostel in which we stayed. The only building in the city that is not painted in the company's colors. However, the inside is very good: a large living room, kitchen and cozy rooms: