A reindeer herd walks on the beach in Jarfjord, Norway on November 11.
On Norway's border with Russia, the consequences of climate change are
affecting the reindeer population as rising temperatures hit food
stocks and industry growth eats into vital grazing land.
A reindeer herd walks on the beach in Jarfjord, Norway on November 11.
On Norway's border with Russia, the consequences of climate change are
affecting the reindeer population as rising temperatures hit food
stocks and industry growth eats into vital grazing land.
Photograph by: Thomas Nilsen, AFP
JARFJORD, Norway � On Norway's border with Russia, the consequences of
climate change are affecting the reindeer population as rising
temperatures hit food stocks and industry growth eats into vital
grazing land.
"Over the past three years, I've had to give some hay to my 800
reindeer during the coldest months. It's more expensive and it gives me
more work," said Jan Egil Trasti, a reindeer herder from the native
Sami people.
The reason: the lichen his animals graze on has become tougher to find
as winter temperatures rise. The snow thaws, and along with rain, then
freezes anew -- covering the ground in layers impervious to all but the
most tenacious reindeer.
Grazing land is also disappearing under the weight of industry as
buildings, pipelines, roads and other infrastructure increasingly dot
old pastures.
Trasti's nomadic ancestors have raised these beasts for hundreds of
years. His grandfather worked the Russian tundra before moving to the
Norwegian coast.
"I have it in my blood. I hope one of my sons will take over," the
herder said. He has, though, a hint of doubt in his eyes, his meagre
earnings well below the average Norwegian salary.
Only a minority of Sami -- some 3,000 -- make their living raising and
herding in Norway, home to around 240,000 reindeer.
In this month of November, just weeks ahead of a key UN climate summit
in Denmark, snow has not yet blanketed the flora in the Far North.
Indeed temperatures in this region near the Barents Sea are
unseasonably mild, above zero degrees Celsius.
In the past, when the snows have come, they have generally fallen on
dry ground, whereas now they fall on lichen engorged with water.
Trasti is no scientist, and environmental experts hesitate to link
specific weather events to long-term climate change, but trends over
the last several decades have clearly shown the Arctic hit hard by
global warming.
In September, a study in the journal Science reported dramatic effects
on animals in the Arctic due to a one-degree Celsius warming over the
past 150 years.
The Arctic tends to warm three times faster than elsewhere in the
Northern Hemisphere because of a phenomenon called Arctic amplification
-- a separate study in the same journal noted that summer temperatures
were some 1.4 degrees Celsius warmer than they should have been by the
year 2000.
Jonathan Colman, specialist in "reindeer ecology" at the University of
Oslo, explained that sometimes "there's wet ice in the lichen."
"It gets into their stomachs and they can't digest the food."
To avoid losing precious livestock, the Sami are forced to move
reindeer to drier ground, meaning it is more important than ever to
respect the tradition of driving herds across the entire north of the
nation.
An animal can sell for 240 euros (359 dollars), and its meat for around
seven euros a kilogramme (10.46 dollars per 2.2 pounds).
Trasti can make extra money selling the hides or antlers to tourists,
and also gets compensation if his animals are killed by predators.
Norwegian Sami follow the herd with vehicles, but their cousins in
Russia still accompany the animals with sleds, camping as they go.
But the drive, and the ability to follow the reindeer, has been
increasingly hampered by industrialisation.
An iron ore mine which was closed down 15 years ago has re-opened
nearby, while elsewhere liquid gas terminals, wind farms and roads are
dotted across, or separate, traditional pastures.
The International Centre for Reindeer Husbandry has expressed regret
that "the herders have only a marginal influence on the development of
their own traditional lands."
That's despite a law that "Norway was built on the territory of two
people, the Sami and the Norwegians," said Christina Henriksen, a Sami
who coordinates an aid programme for native peoples in the Arctic
region.
"For me, being a Sami means herding reindeer," said Trasti, who does
not speak his native language.
"My parents weren't allowed to speak Sami at school in the 60's," he
said, and out of guilt, they "didn't teach us the language."
For the moment though, reindeer numbers are holding up under the strain
of global warming, but that's a fact Colman puts down to their very
resilience.
"If reindeer weren't as adaptable, there wouldn't be any left," he
said.