At only 1,000km away from the North Pole, the Norwegian town of Longyearbyen stands at the frontier of climate change. Here, homes constructed on a thawing permafrost balance precariously on unstable foundations, residents are plagued by frequent landslides, and rain - instead of snow - falls in winter. In February last year, Vanessa Liu and Mark Cheong visited the northernmost town in the world to explore how climate change is affecting everyday life in the Arctic.
Despite its breathtaking natural attractions, the Svalbard region is ironically also known for its high per capita carbon footprint. The town’s power supply comes from coal, one of the dirtiest fuel sources, and almost all of its food supply is flown into the town.
ST PHOTO: MARK CHEONG
The only cemetery in Longyearbyen had to be closed in 2017 due to the rising incidence of landslides in the hills surrounding the graves. Warmer climate in recent years has resulted in record rainfall, destabilising the slopes and causing mudslides. A new cemetery is planned in another part of town.
ST PHOTO: MARK CHEONG
Mr Jo Tore Berg, an English teacher, on the lookout for polar bears at Longyearbyen School. For 30 minutes twice a day during the dark season, a staff member patrols the perimeter of the schoolyard while students play in the open during recess. When there’s a sighting, a flare gun is fired, and the resulting bright lights and loud blast are a signal for everyone to go indoors. Hungry polar bears have been spotted wandering into town and scavenging for food scraps. Sea ice, which is crucial for the animals in their hunt for food, is disappearing in the Arctic due to rising temperatures.
ST PHOTO: MARK CHEONG
Before the Covid-19 pandemic, tourists flocked to Longyearbyen for the Northern Lights and activities such as dog sledding, and glacier hiking.
ST PHOTO: MARK CHEONG
Mr Benjamin Vidmar set up Polar Permaculture, hoping to grow food locally and reduce the town’s carbon footprint.
ST PHOTO: MARK CHEONG
Despite the harsh weather conditions in the region, the chef-turned-farmer is able to grow a steady supply of greens – such as watercress and daikon radish – all year round, using a greenhouse dome during the summer months and climate-controlled container farms during the dark season.
ST PHOTO: MARK CHEONG
Mr Mark Sabbatini, the editor of Icepeople, a local newspaper in Longyearbyen, pictured on Feb 4 last year. The American journalist had been living in Longyearbyen for 13 years before leaving the town in July this year. He was drawn to the place after visiting to write about a jazz festival. A huge international population, which includes Thais and Filipinos, lives in Longyearbyen
ST PHOTO: MARK CHEONG
It was built as an impregnable fortress to safeguard the most precious seeds known to humanity – an insurance for the world’s food supply. But the permafrost that was supposed to protect the Svalbard Global Seed Vault from natural and man-made disasters is melting due to warmer temperatures, causing the entrance tunnel of the vault to flood in 2017 amid heavy rainfall. The vault, which houses more than one million seed samples from all over the world in deep freeze, has since been refurbished to make its entrance watertight.
ST PHOTO: MARK CHEONG
A sign showing the various distances of major cities around the world is seen at Svalbard Airport on Feb 6, 2020.
ST PHOTO: MARK CHEONG
A tourist takes a picture with a model of a polar bear as she waits for her baggage at the Svalbard Airport on Feb 2, 2020.
ST PHOTO: MARK CHEONG
Driving during heavy snowfall in Longyearbyen on Feb 2, 2020.
ST PHOTO: MARK CHEONG
The view from an aeroplane overlooking the archipelago of Svalbard as it leaves Svalbard Airport on Feb 6, 2020.
ST PHOTO: MARK CHEONG
Two pedestrians wear reflective vests as they walk along a road in Longyearbyen in the afternoon on Feb 5, 2020.
ST PHOTO: MARK CHEONG