Reindeer-Herding Family Combines Old School
Ways with Innovative Entrepreneurship

  INARI, Lapland – When I first arranged with Raisa Kitti to meet at her Lapland home, 165 miles north of the Arctic Circle, she told me straight away I may be disappointed.

  “Why is that?” I asked during a phone conversation.

  “Because you won’t see any reindeer at our farm,” she said. “They’re grazing in the high country.”

  In fact, I was more interested in the Kitti family, which can trace its lineage as reindeer herders back 400 years, or about the time the Mayflower arrived in New England.

  I had flown into Ivalo, Finland on a Sunday night in early August, landing at midnight. That far north, it was still light enough to play nine holes had golf been on my To Do list. The town - population 3,000 - serves as a regional center for outdoor sports enthusiasts, mostly of the winter kind.

  Finnish Lapland occupies one of the world’s more exotic locations, conjuring up images of frozen tundra, Northern lights, Santa and, of course, reindeer. Its landmass consumes 30 percent of Finland’s territory but only a fraction of its population of 5 million.

  The 45-minute drive from Ivalo to the Kitti home in Inari featured never-ending forests of pine, spruce and birch.   Outcroppings of granite occasionally jutted out close to the two-lane asphalt road. Pristine lakes void of boat traffic appeared every few miles. In the distance, tree-covered hills too small to be called mountains contrasted sharply against a blue sky on a warm summer day.

  The Kittis live on the outskirts of Inari, a village of around 500 people perched at the eastern end of the Juuta River where it flows into massive Lake Inari. Inari is so far north that in winter the sun does not rise above the horizon for 36 straight days.

Raisa

  In the Kittis’ prefabricated home east of the village, I met Raisa for the first time, always an interesting experience when you’ve only talked by phone. She introduced me to her family – husband, Janne, 48; son Jussa, 14; and daughters, Iina, 9, Enni, 7 and Anni-Karen, 3. The girls, rambunctious and fair-skinned, weren’t much interested in my presence and went about their playful business with one another. Jussa, surprisingly, wanted to talk about American baseball, a sport he follows on YouTube.  He also wanted to practice the English he was learning in school.

  At 44, Raisa is a sturdy, soft spoken woman with kind blue-gray eyes and a keen intelligence. She appeared fully capable of the rigors of a reindeer herder’s wife as well as raising her children and running a business, which she would later explain.

  She grew up in a small town 70 miles southeast of Inari. Her father was a lumberjack and wilderness guide. Her mother was a crackerjack cook and baker. Raisa loved the outdoors and was an adventurous girl. As a teen, her father taught her to hunt moose and grouse.

  Raisa hasn’t had time for shooting since then but that was about to change as a rifle she ordered was being delivered later today. Bear and moose season were approaching.

  “I’m excited,” she said. “I haven’t hunted in years.”

  Always independent and ambitious, Raisa left home at 16 for Rovaniemi, Lapland’s capital city, where she attended high school and played club volleyball. She lived in a group home with other girls but had relatives living in the city.   After high school she attended a business school, earning her degree, and then enrolled in nursing school.

  She was 29 when she finished her schooling, holding a pair of nursing certificates as well as the business degree. During this period, Raisa worked in retail and as an occupational nurse.

  At 30, she gave birth to Jussa. The relationship with his father did not last. She started dating Janne four years later. They had met 10 years earlier when he attended one of her volleyball games.

  Where the couple would live was a given as Janne was not going to leave his herd

  “It was easier for me to move here,” Raisa said. 

Janne

  Raisa and I had been chatting at the dining table in a small but comfortable home that could pass for any middle-class abode in the U.S. One major difference: In a simmering pot on the stove was our lunch - reindeer soup.

  Janne sat on a nearby sofa, less engaged, initially, than his wife as he speaks little English. But he understood the conversation and was happy to answer any question with Raisa serving as interpreter.

  As a Sámi, Lapland’s indigenous residents dating back thousands of years, Janne grew up in a family of reindeer herders on his mother’s side. He learned the trade from his uncles, beginning as a boy. He loved it from the start and still does today.

  “It’s not only work,” he said. “It’s a lifestyle and a culture.”

  I asked about his herd and received an interesting answer.  There are around 5,800 reindeer that are shared by a number of Inari families, with each family owning a specific number. Janne would not reveal how many he owns.

  “If I tell you, it’s like asking me how much money we in our bank account,” he explained.

  Although each family is responsible for its own reindeer, the herders, some of whom are Janne’s cousins, work together moving the entire herd while riding ATVs or, in winter, snowmobiles. In Janne’s grandfather’s day, this work was done walking or on skiis.

  Each year the Inari Reindeer Herders Association – Janne is its president – sets the number of animals to be slaughtered. Last year, the figure was a minimum of 25 percent. Among the reasons: If the herds grow too large there won’t be enough space and thus food to sustain them.

  From the kill, the Kittis last year sold 18 percent of their take to local butchers and kept the rest for themselves. In the Kitti home, there is zero waste: Every part of the animal is used in some way.

  This is the off season for Janne. While his reindeer roam freely in the highlands, he spends his time repairing fences in the lower pastures and working through a checklist of home projects, which includes vehicle and equipment maintenance. In winter, if the snow is especially deep and the temperature below zero, he spends less time with his herd. In spring, when daylight expands, Janne is gone from early morning until well past his children’s bedtime.

  “We barely see him during those days,” Raisa said.

Climate Issues

  Not unsurprisingly, climate issues have impacted the world of reindeer herding. This summer, for instance, has been unusually warm. Coupled with a wet spring, mosquito and fly populations exploded. Fighting the pests sap energy from the reindeer which they need to roam and feed. Bugs can shorten the life span of a calf as well.

  In the hills, forests have expanded. As a result, fast growing  birch are impacting reindeer feeding areas.

  “They love to eat the moss and many different kinds of plants,” said Raisa. “But now there is less moss and fewer plants.”

  Everything appears to be upside down. Snow is falling earlier. This is not good because the ground needs to freeze first to preserve the plants below, otherwise they will turn moldy.

  The winter winds have increased as well, adding a thick crust to the snow. That makes it hard for the reindeer to dig their hoofs through the surface to reach their food.

  Aside from an evolving climate, other threats include mining expansion and wind-power stations. Lapland has rich deposits of gold and lithium, the latter used for electric vehicle batteries. And the government has endorsed an increase in wind power to boost its clean energy output. Both add jobs. But they reduce the amount of space for reindeer herds and are an unwelcome intrusion into the animals’ serene space.

The Entrepreneur

  When Raisa gave birth to her three daughters, she altered her career path. Initially, when she moved to Inari, she worked as a nurse. As the babies started arriving, she realized the demands of raising a family and aiding her husband with his business were too much.

  Although she left her job, her ambition remained intact: Raisa figured out a way to work from home. She opened her doors in 2018 to tourists interested in the reindeer herder experience. In retrospect, it was the perfect call. She applied her knowledge of the kitchen and handicrafts learned from her mother, and business acumen gleaned from her Dad.

  As we delved deeper into the topic, the essence of it all came down to a simple reality, which Raisa was more than happy to explain.

  “I like being a reindeer herder’s wife because it involves everything,” she said. “I take part in the roundups of the reindeer.   And the marking. In the spring, when the weather’s beautiful, I love going to the mountains on the snowmobile.”

  I asked her to explain the marking ritual. Each July for a week or two the Kitti family heads to their cabin in the high country.   There, along with their partners, they round up the herd on their ATVs and seek out the mothers and their calves which were born sometime in May. Ownership is confirmed by family brands found on the ear.

  As Raisa explained this, Janne did some fast drawing. On a piece of paper I saw five individual brands, one for each family member except Jussa, who’s not sure if he wants to be involved in the family business. [“I have a hard decision to make,” he said earlier.]

  Raisa inherited Janna’s grandmother’s brand. This further cemented her kinship with her husband’s family.

  Raisa's nursing skills are still required as well, and not just for tending to her children’s illnesses. She sometimes handles medical care for weak and wounded reindeer.

  “I wanted to be a veterinarian,” she said. “But the only school was in Helsinki and I didn’t want to travel that far.”

The Future

  We finished our reindeer soup – chest, back, neck, potatoes, broth - and freshly baked bread, which was delicious.

  I asked Janne how much longer he wanted to work.

  “Twenty years,” he said.

  The job already has taken a toll on his body. He has a new knee and a faulty hip, thanks to a collision with a reindeer, some of which can weigh more than 500 pounds.

  The Kittis say their side busienss has gone well. In summer, most of their customers are Finnish. In the fall, it’s Europeans. They created a website that nicely pitches what a day visit to their home entails: feeding reindeer; cooking a complete meal with reindeer meat or fish from Inari Lake; and a handicraft workshop where visitors learn to use reindeer leather, bones and antlers to create their own souvenirs. [Raisa showed me an impressive pair of boots she made completely from reindeer legs.]

  One goal stands above all others for Raisa when she welcomes her guests: Educate them on Sámi culture and the life of a reindeer herding family.

  Also crucial is the future of the family business, four centuries old and counting. That’s likely up to the Kitti girls, who are far too young to know.

  “We hope one of them will,” Raisa said. “But we won’t push them. And we know their education is just as important.”

Editor’s note: Third in a series from a reporting trip to Finland August 2-6, 2024

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Reported and written by: George J. Tanber

Edited by: Michael Gordon

Photo editor: David Kozy