Singers Ulrika Bodén and Sofia Sandén
Source: I forgot where I got this from
I went for a short trip to Sweden five months ago. Today suddenly I am writing about it. The thoughts and memories have been turned and churned around in my head and today they are a few short paragraphs. Maybe, it is better this way.
Finland to Sweden transport
The base was Helsinki and the destination was Näsåker, a village in the middle Ångerman valley in Norrland. The popular route to Sweden is cruise ship to Stockholm, but I found cruise ships to be a bore and opted for a land route: Pendolino to Seinäjoki, then regional train to Vaasa, then a (re-appropriated) cargo ship to Umeå across the Bothnian sea, then train to Kramfors, then bus up the valley to Sollefteå, then taxi to the village.
The trip spanned five days, most of it on transport, but I think taking the long way via Stockholm would not have helped much. Besides, I looked at the portraits they print on the krona and they all wore wigs. It then occured to me that maybe Stockholm is more of a wig-wearing kind of city. I wish to have nothing ever to do with that sort of place.
A map of the East and West Bothnias
Sketchy outline of the village Näsåker and the Ångerman valley
The drainage basin of the river Ångermanälven is in what they call the Swedish up-country, north of Stockholm and south of Umeå, the urban focus of Norrland. The river runs from north-west to south-east, passing through the village by a dam and an archaeological site at the rapids called Nämforsen, where there are rock carvings.
Näsåker is roughly 63 degrees north in latitude.
The area is dotted with small hamlets with crofts that look as if they have been plopped carelessly onto green pastures, with nary a trodden path to garnish their sides. Compared to these clumps of houses, Näsåker is a metropolis. It is not hard to deduce why Sollefteå, down the valley from Nämforsen with only 8,562 residents, can be called a city with a straight face by the Swedish authorities.
Näsåker hosts an annual folk music festival, from 2 to 4 August last year, without which I would not have bothered going to Sweden.
The scenery is beautiful. I had known this before by listening to Swedish folk music. So these things are actually quite useful.
A pictorial representation of kulnings and nyckelharpa music
Sketchy narration of the Urkult festival
The festival lasted three days. I foolishly bought the three-day ticket and attended only one day of it. The ticket came in the form of an wristband, which I kept on lovingly and then wore to school in NUS until it got awkward.
With me was Tristan, an Australian dude recently graduated from Physics. He was at the festival to support his sister, who played with the Crooked Fiddle Band. With him I was sure at least there was someone around I can speak English with, because most of the festivalgoers were Swedes. Tchah! But Swedish seemed quite an easy language to learn.
[I can say with confidence that most of the festivalgoers were Swedes: An African band did a poll during their gig. They asked the people present to raise their hands, first people from Sundsvall (~30), then Örnsköldsvik (~10), then Harnosand and Gävle and Uppsala and then Stockholm (more than half of the crowd). They did also call out for people from the African countries, and that was when the lone festivalgoer from Sudan was booed.]
The festival compound was in a patch of forest, where the villagers had built stages and dance halls for this very purpose. Unfortunately they still have not built toilets in the place, so we had to be content with portable ones which filled up to the brim by the third day. Unfortunately also they are unwilling to build more hotels here just for visitors in August, so we had to be content with sleeping in tents in campgrounds, charging fees comparable to a good Latvian hostel. So living conditions were grimy, and a bit snippy due to persistent drizzles.
The band Väsen
I had two stated missions for the trip to Näsåker. Namely:
1. To meet singer Ulrika Bodén
2. To find out how the guitarist Roger Tallroth tunes his guitar. Allegedly it is something like ABABAB but no one on the internet knows exactly how.
I sadly never met Tallroth after their concert due to time constraints, but the upshot is that I met Ulrika, and got an autographed album with it. She was singing to full pews at the village church, with people lining up to get inside once seats are made available. I was shoved to the front of the queue because I "came all the way from Singapore". Well, thank you, nice Swedish grannies!
The Original Swedish Arvika Blues Breakers
The only imperfection of this band was their unwieldy name, which I shall shorten to OSABB. I didn't know who these peeps were, but they were quite young and lively, and sang campy songs that pleased the crowd so much. People cheered and broke into dance in the middle of the crowd exactly the same way people in Finland do not. The power went out for five minutes and the crowd became livelier. We milled up to the front, trunk pressing against trunk. Then the power went back on and we became more excited still! When the rain looked like it meant business, everyone bought raincoats at the info counter, then returned to the stage front.
At the time, I was tied up with the lady at the counter. It turned out that the village had only one bus out of the place on Saturday, which was 9am in the morning: the only bus from Näsåker to the world. The lady was at a loss but was eager to give me more concert time for the rest of Saturday, because I came all the way from Singapore. I insisted that it was alright, I can always return another time, and right now make the best of this whatever band that's playing. At midnight her shift was over, so we bade each other goodnight and I dove back into the stage front and danced with the Swedes.
