Returning To The Lands of Our Ancestors | Kuivaniemi, Finland

Back in March of 2024, I had the opportunity to get into an artist residency in Ii, Finland, where I simultaneously got to share this time with my husband on our honeymoon. My mission was to document our travels and photograph the similarities between my hometown in New York Mills, Minnesota and the land of our ancestors.

We were both aware of the similarities from conversations with real Finnish folk and the World Wide Web of course. But it wasn’t until one steps foot on the land and witnesses it for themselves that it truly hits you. The similarities were more evident than expected, and a bone-chilling familiarity was undeniable.

I had recently got into genealogy a little more deeply after meeting Finnish photographer Antti Leinonen, whom I am fortunate enough to now call a dear friend. Most of my initial family history knowledge derived from Antti during his time in Minnesota when he as working on a personal photo project, which I then I followed up further with my father - where I discovered he had an intensive family tree line on Family Search. I regrettably wish I would have dove in even further before we landed in Finland, but I suppose some things work out precisely as they should.

Both my husband and I have family that hail from Rural Northern Finland and Sami country. While exploring some of these places we recognized numerous last names that are very common from our area in Minnesota - Karvonen, Tervola, Jokela, Lehto, Salo and many more. It was almost eerie walking the streets of both Helsinki and Lapland seeing the resemblance of faces of those back home - from our town, other surrounding Finnish-American towns, or our church. There were several times when it didn’t feel like we were anywhere else than back home, a feeling that is hard for me to describe. Not only did we see the similarities in the faces of those we passed, but also in mannerisms, cafes, ways of life, building and settings.

I think American’s often dream of their motherland - the lands in which their ancestors called home. Thanks to Antti what felt impossible actually became very possible and real. We were able to find the exact property that my fifth great-grandfather Johan Rousu (later known as Jacob Perala) and his wife Anna Ylitalo once called home along the Kuivajoki (Kuivaniemi River) - where they homesteaded before immigrating to the United States in 1879, bypassing Ellis Island and coming up the river thru the Great Lakes where they then settled in Minnesota. And after visiting Finland I can see exactly why they settled where they did - the resemblance to home was unmistakable. The many lakes, rivers and swamps, birches and pines…it looked and felt like home.

I guess I didn’t have any expectations for this experience, just overjoyed and beyond grateful to know where we came from. But my reaction to stepping foot on this very place was the furthest thing from what I would have expected.

I recall stepping out of Antti’s vehicle into the snow on the land which was now home to an old abandoned schoolhouse. We walked to the rivers edge, where he pointed across the way showing me the land in which the old map had shown was once Johan’s. Goosebumps crawled across my entire being and I involuntarily started to weep - and wept without ceasing.

Over the years I’ve learned of the power of the body - the ways in which it hold memory and the workings of epigenetics. But it wasn’t until this moment I fully understood the insane capability and power the body and DNA holds, retaining memories and information that isn’t always our own. It’s hard to put into words exactly what I felt that day. But two word seem to repeatedly come to mind — peace and home. I hugged Antti thanking him for this beautiful gift - a gift I would never be able to repay.

Original Rousu family homestead

Abandoned Schoolhouse

I walked back over to the deck that surrounded a fire ring, gazing across the river at the land my ancestors lived, worked and loved. There was a deep resonance of peace in which I have never felt before. And still as I write this brings tears to my eyes months later. It was a feeling of home and belonging. It was stillness. It was peace. And I was feeling it overwhelm my body. I continued to weep for longer than I’d like to admit; I was feeling it in full force and with no control, all one could do is surrender and feel. I hugged my husband as we stood upon the deck, overlooking the very land my family once lived 145 years prior. Still in awe at this enormous gift I would never be able to repay, overflowing with pure gratitude.

We continued down the road to see if there were any neighbors that could provide further information, and by luck of divine timing we did. My tears being slightly more manageable at this point, but still flowing none-the-less. I’m embarrassed to admit I speak no Finnish, but thankfully by Finnish friend is quite fluent. And in this exchange we learned a great deal of information about the Perala family history.

The original homestead of green wooden buildings was, at one point, disassembled and moved closer to the river where it then burned down in the 60’s. Of the original buildings only one remained, a small green shed. The abandoned property next door was the original home where my fifth great-grandfather’s brother was born in. And, lo and behold, this very neighbor in which we talked to was also a distant relative, a Rousu - the last name we shared before it became Perala.

Distant relative and neighbor Mr. Rousu

The remaining building on the original homestead

The home where Johan’s brother was born

After our time with Mr. Rousu we continued to the village Oijarvi in search of my husband’s family history, the original Jyrkas (my husband) homestead - which we did find and was still occupied - sitting just 5-7 miles away from the Perala’s home.

During our search we stopped at the local Kahvila for any leads and information about the Jyrkas family. As we walked in it felt as if we walked into the bakery back home - with a few older Finn’s chatting with a cup of coffee in hand. Once again we couldn’t understand what was being said but thanks to our investigator Antti we were able to find some of what we were hoping for. One thing in particular stood out to me the most - as Antti was sharing our names and where we come from, one of the older gentleman said he had goosebumps run up his spine, he could recall those exact names and places when he was delivering mail packages back in the day. Which in turn, gave me those same goosebumps. The world continues to shrink, but the world of Finnish-America seems to get undeniably smaller. We weren’t able to chat with anyone at the Jyrkas home as they weren’t home, but we did see and feel it none-the-less and later received confirmation that it was, in fact, the right place.

I think I am still in slight shock and awe at the beauty of this day. Not only being in Kuivaniemi and Oijarvi, the places our ancestor’s were born and raised, but stepping foot on those exact lands as well. Every time I recall this day chills continue to run up my spine, bringing tears to my eyes. Looking back I wish I wouldn’t have been such an emotional wreck so I could have properly documented this experience and spaces. But perhaps that wasn’t what was destined for me that day. Perhaps it was being in the present moment and surrendering to those feelings, some of which were my own and some that belonged to those who came before me that still run through my body and blood. It was a moving experience and without a doubt a healing one - something I didn’t know I needed but will forever be grateful for.