The etymology of the name Korpilombolo doesn’t have one explanation. Wasteland swamp is one of them. No wonder the band GOAT claims they have their roots in a voodoo cult from Korpilombolo, the name of the village sounds like from somewhere far away from Sweden. I saw the band GOAT in Berghain some years ago and for some reason I told one of the guys I come from Korpilombolo for real. Juto should mean Jerk. Well, I guess it’s synomymous up there.
So, welcome to Korpilombolo. This is Industrihuset. Back in the days the neon sign was lit (maybe it still is, I remember seeing it and taking pictures of it maybe 15 years ago) and spinning when my mum grew up.
For many years I’ve been thinking about the hairsalon in this building. The only trace I could find was this sign on a window.
The rest of it was locked up like this patisserie which I’ve never seen open. I’ve been to the hairsalon once IF I don’t mix it up with another one. My memory is usually extremely good apparently, I have memories from before I was 2 years old. How about you?
We went to Kulturhuset for pizza. The first time I had pizza in Korpilombolo was at the Three Saws Inn some time around 1990. This pizzeria still had trays and cutlery from that place. I sometimes wonder if I grew up in the swedish equivalent of Twin Peaks? Well, the stories from up there can easily beat the series. Murders, wise people able to stop bleeding, suicides, clocks stopping right at the moment its owner dies.
This pizza is called Limingoån, the village the part of my Juto family comes from. Smoked reindeer (suovas) and canned mushrooms, DELICIOUS!
The beautiful wooden church where I was baptised. We had a stroll at the cemetery and I promise you – 90% of the relatives I know in this area are dead and buried here. 10% are alive.
I took pictures of the graves of my relatives, trying to remember to take pictures for my own archives, it doesn’t feel right to post them online. I can just tell you that my maternal grandmother is buried between two of her boyfriends, isn’t it beautiful? One died after they had been to a wedding and the other one hung himself. She had a husband before the boyfriends, he ran away when she was pregnant with their second child. Wish she would still be here to tell me all her stories from growing up with 17 younger siblings and what happened after that. The last time we spoke on the phone she said: Sandra, I’m going to go away somewhere for my 70th birthday, I don’t want to celebrate it at home. She did a good job – she died a month before the birthday. The evening before the day she died, I was going to call her and tell her I love her but for some reason I didn’t. The next morning she was dead and I’m sure she knew how much I loved her (except for the one time when my sister told her I hate her and I found her in tears asking me Is it true that you really hate me?).
Hilja, what a fucking cool person – she gave my mother a free upbringing, a great sense of humour, a non-judgemental attitude towards other people and always had something good to say about everyone she had ever met.
Hilja and I were crocheting a lot together, my Wrist Worms success is thanks to her!
Celebrating Hilja & Spring with a 20% discount on all available Wrist Worms this week, use code SPRING21 on checkout.