Chillin' and illin'

I've made my feelings about swine flu quite clear in previous posts, and although I still firmly believe that the panic and paranoia surrounding the outbreak is mostly due to a mixture of hype and ignorance, I can't deny the fact that I've been quite ill for the past three days and feeling quite sorry for myself. Whether I have swine flu, regular flu or just a very heavy cold is a matter for debate, but I spent most of the weekend curled up on the sofa flicking through the TV channels in a vain hope of finding something to watch other than infomercials.

Weekend television was never a highlight on the schedules in the UK (other than the sport) and it's just the same in Canada. Many stations don't even bother broadcasting actual shows for large parts of the day, opting instead to expose us to the virtues of the Magic Bullet, Slap Chop and Sham Wow (notice how all these products have two word titles?).

At least I have the option of TV I guess, now that my boxes have arrived, and if I continue to feel as bad then I might be sampling the delights of weekday daytime TV tomorrow. I struggled through today at school, but I don't know if I'll be able to manage tomorrow. It might have to be Regis & Kelly and Martha Stewart instead, with a trip to the nursing station sandwiched somewhere in between. Assuming I survive, I'll let you know what happens; if there aren't any new posts by Friday, send out the search parties...

Whale meat again

For centuries the Inuit hunted bowhead whales, but commercial whaling drove the species to the edge of extinction, causing a ban to be imposed on such hunting. However, a reassessment of the bowhead population confirmed that numbers were actually far higher than originally thought, and in 2008 a party of hunters from all around Nunavik were allowed to go on the first bowhead hunt for over a century. The hunt set sail from Kangiqsujuaq, and so it was again this year. A team of 20 set off on August 19th in search of their bowhead, and earlier this week they returned triumphantly with their catch, a 56 foot beast that would probably have weighed in at something approaching 120 tonnes.

The success of such a hunt is an emotional time for the Inuit here, for as well as marking the safe return of the hunters themselves, it also marks a return of a great tradition, one that reminds both young and old of who they are and where they come from. If the Inuit are to hold on to their culture then events such as these are of the utmost importance, and whereas a few years ago I might have viewed such a spectacle as being both unnecessary and cruel, my experiences in the North have totally changed my opinions on such matters.

The meat from the whale will be shared around all the fourteen communities in Nunavik, and last night saw our community feast at the recreation centre here. It was a joyous occasion with singing, dancing, accordion playing and even a bit of heavy metal courtesy of Quppia (one of my students) and Adamie, and of course there was lots of food. I can now add whale to the list of country food that I've sampled, and whilst I wouldn't rank it at the very top, it certainly provided a great deal of chewing value! One novelty last night was that all the food was cooked rather than raw, and it really was a fine feast, one that all the community enjoyed. It was both a pleasure and a privilege to be involved, and my bowl of ramen noodles this lunchtime seemed all the more bland in comparison!

18 boxes

The annual ritual of waiting for my cargo has now been completed! Last year, my life was shipped to me in 24 boxes, whereas this time around I've managed to downsize to 18. What that says about my life I'm not sure; perhaps the amount of possessions I need is slowly decreasing in line with the number of hairs remaining on my head.

The remainder of the week will now consist of an ongoing cycle of unpacking, cleaning and washing, but at least I now have my TV and I will now feel a little more connected to the outside world once more. My phone is also connected now, but there is still no sight of the internet, so I am continuing to spend more time in school than is healthy in order to access the world wide web and to write these posts for you, dear reader. It's home time now though...

Meat market

WARNING - This is one of those posts that contain potentially disturbing images, both of myself and of dismembered wildlife; you have been warned!

After a beautiful first week weather-wise, the weekend was pretty grey, and as I write on Monday afternoon it's simply pouring down with rain. I spent most of the weekend at school going through the thirty boxes of classroom books and supplies that were flown up from Inukjuak for me, half of which were sent in error (unless I want to run a course in Business Accounting, in French). These boxes now have to be repackaged and sent back down, a laborious and costly task, but as with the Light Brigade, mine is not to reason why.

On a more interesting note, I was taken to the community freezer on Saturday (I guess this would replace 'community chest' on an Inuit Monopoly board), which is not something that the Quallunaat (white people) are normally allowed to do. When any hunters return to the village, their excess catch is placed in the freezer to be shared amongst the population at large, and at the moment there is an excess of caribou in storage, hence us being allowed some. As you can see though, the meat does not come neatly packaged in Styrofoam trays and plastic wrap:

It's very much a case of work out which piece of the animal you're looking at then take what you need, or vice-versa perhaps, depending on how fussy you are. I now have a couple of hefty slabs of caribou meat in my freezer at home, although quite what part of the animal they came from I'm not sure. They don't have any hooves or antlers attached though; I wouldn't have liked that.

I don't think the caribou would have cared too much though.

Ashes to Ashes

When we first moved out to Canada back in August 2005, England's cricket team was on the verge of regaining the Ashes, and now everything has come full circle as England has once again reclaimed the urn from Australian hands. I missed the climax back in 2005 as a result of our move but today I managed to catch the last couple of hours online, and the fact that I was sitting alone in an empty school in the sub-Arctic didn't dampen my celebrations one bit when Graeme Swann took the last wicket.

In Inukjuak I managed to generate some interest in cricket amongst my students, and although we fell short of being able to create the first Inuit cricket team, I think that those who played enjoyed the experience. I shall be trying to repeat the exercise here this year and, if successful, we may be able to instigate the first Nunavik Test series at some future point in time. For the time being though I shall remain blissfully content to bask in England's glory; all I need now are my boxes...

Here we go again...

Greetings!

It's been a while I know, but I'm now writing to you from Kangiqsujuaq. It only seems like yesterday that I arrived but I've actually been here a week now, and over the course of the coming days, weeks and months I'll keep you posted about life up here.

I've already chalked up a few 'firsts' in my life in the short time I've been here: this is the most northerly place I've ever visited and the first time I've been 'north of 60', it's the first time I've ever had to teach in August, and it's also the first time I've lived next to a golf course! Yes...there is actually a golf course here, but more of of that in the days to come!

(Click on photo to enlarge)

The village is very beautiful, and you are very aware that you are living in a natural amphitheatre, with imposing mountains surrounding you on three sides. As for the spelling, I'm none the wiser as I've seen at least three different variations since I've been here, but the most common seems to be Kangiqsujuaq (no 'r'), so we'll stick with that from now on.

Thanks to Melanie I've had some boxes of food arrive so I'm not starving, but my cargo from Inukjuak is yet to materialise, so just like last year I've been living out of my suitcase for the past week. I packed more pairs of underpants in my suitcase than I did last year, but I've just about run through the whole range of combinations afforded to you by a couple of pairs of jeans and two or three T-shirts. I've also no internet or phone at home yet, and with my TV stranded somewhere between here and Inukjuak, my evenings have not been all that exciting. I suppose I could devote myself to my work....

For the time being I'm using the internet at school, but when one considers that my house here is a mere stone's throw away from the school (it really is - I've tried!), I suppose there are far worse hardships in the world. Posts will become more regular once I'm hooked up at home, but keep looking in as I'll still try to update on a fairly regular basis. Until next time....

(Click on photo to enlarge)

Don't watch the skies!

Whatever you do, don't watch the Perseid meteor shower tonight; the future of the planet could depend on it! It can't be a coincidence that, on the very day of the annual cometary display, there is also news of the discovery of a giant meat-eating plant in the Philippines.

I have just one word in response: TRIFFIDS!!!!!

You have been warned!

The final countdown

This time next week I shall be firmly ensconced back in the North for a fourth year of fun and frolics above the treeline (I actually fly up this Saturday). I can't quite believe it's been that long but it has, so I guess that some part of me must enjoy the experience, and as regular readers will know I'm travelling even further north this year, to the community of Kangirsujuaq (or Kangiqsujuaq, depending on your source); I shall be able to confirm the spelling next week. The community is also known as Wakeham Bay, after Captain William Wakeham who, in 1897, led an expedition to determine whether the Hudson Strait was safe for navigation. Not sure of his findings; again, maybe I'll be able to tell you next week...

The population in Kangir(q)sujuaq/Wakeham Bay is just 591 by the last count (compare that to the relative metropolis of Inukjuak with its population of around 1500), which will make it the smallest place in which I've ever lived, but there are still a couple of stores there, and as long as the TV and internet work I'll be fine. Not sure when/if Melanie will be joining me; she returns to the UK for a month or so at the beginning of September, and she also has a few job possibilities around Kingston, although nothing's definite yet. If she does come up it'll probably be around late October, so at least that gives me a couple of months to get the new Northern apartment clean!

How I'll furnish said apartment is yet to be decided. I've no idea quite what type of accommodation I'll be getting, and at the time of writing all my 'Northern possessions' are still boxed up in Inukjuak. When they'll arrive in my new home is anyone's guess - remember the saga of the 24 boxes? - so I'll be sure to pack a good supply of underwear in my suitcase this year!

Living in an Amish paradise

So, was it Gettysburg or Hershey's world of chocolate? As educated, erudite educationalists, there was really only one choice:

We did look at going to Gettysburg, but we couldn't find the address.

After a confectionery filled morning we began the drive home, and along the way we made a diversion that took us into the heart of Amish country. After taking out some money at a bank that had posts in the car park to tie up your horses (and enough horse shit to prove that the facilities were used on a regular basis - I guess some of the Amish must be stinking rich), we had lunch in the quaintly named town of Bird-in-Hand; this was going to be our last stop in Pennsylvania, but about half an hour later we found ourselves in the middle of Intercourse and we simply had to pull over...

Got you! But really, who calls their town 'Intercourse'? Joking aside, our little dip into Amish culture was an interesting experience; we were surprised to see that a number of the Amish lived in houses adorned with satellite dishes, and we were left wondering whether the folks of Bird-in-Hand and Intercourse placed more emphasis on the 'ish' rather than the 'Am'.

Eight hours later we were home, and although we've had a quiet week since, we have a few more adventures lined up for next week, but that's another story...