This sporting life

Regular readers may well remember that the Ivakkak sled race started in Inukjuak this time last year, and at the time it was announced that the race would now be a biennial event, with the next running in 2011. Well, in what may be an attempt to get in as many races before the world expires in 2012, the Ivakkak is actually up and running again this year, and there is good local representation in the race with four of the sixteen teams hailing from Kangiqsujuaq.

The race actually started last week in Quaqtaq, the community south east of us, and heading into what should be the last couple of days the team of Noah Annahatak and his son, Sandy, from Kangiqsujuaq holds the lead. Noah is actually the father of one of my students so there will be plenty of cause for celebration if he can hold onto his lead, especially as no-one from Kangiqsujuaq has won the event before, and with a 26 minute advantage at the time of writing he must be in with a great chance. You can keep up to date with the Ivakkak here.

And whilst we are on a sporting theme, one of my students, Joe, introduced me to the Inuit game of finger pull today. There are a whole range of traditional Inuit games, most of which are tests of strength, agility and endurance with their cultural roots in the hunting practices of the past. Basically, finger pull consists of the two combatants sitting opposite each other and interlocking middle fingers. One pulls whilst the other tries to resist, and then the roles are reversed, first with one hand and then the other. There is a little more to the correct posture than merely 'sitting', and once Joe manipulated me into the correct position he proceeded to prove that his finger pulling power was far superior to mine (insert joke of your choice about him giving me the middle finger).

Good job we didn't have to use our pinkies.

Against the clock

I've just been through a most harrowing experience.

Earlier this evening I tried to buy some Dave Matthews tickets online, and to begin with everything went smoothly. The band are playing in Saratoga Springs on Melanie's birthday this summer, and happily there were some tickets left so I went ahead with the booking process and eventually reached the 'sign in' page.

At this stage I had to enter my email address and create a new password or, if I had an existing Ticketmaster account, I should enter my previous password. Oh, and I had two minutes to complete this page or else the tickets would be gone! A large red countdown clock appeared in the bottom right hand corner of the screen and suddenly I was Jack Bauer in an episode of 24.

OK. Don't panic.

Enter name....check.
Enter email address....check.
Confirm email address...check.

Thirty seconds gone.

Enter password....quick, think of something....check.
Confirm password...check.
Do I want to receive details of other upcoming events in Saratoga....hell no.

One minute gone.

Click on 'confirm'....an account already exists in this name; please re-enter correct password or create a new account.

Nooooooooooo!

Forty five seconds left.

When did I buy tickets on this site before? What could my password have been? No time to look it up. Sweat starting to drip onto the keyboard. Just keep calm, you can do it.

First attempt...no good. Second attempt...no good. Fifteen seconds to go. Time for one more try...

Five seconds, four seconds, three seconds, two...

SUCCESS!!!!!

Jack Bauer saves the world again! Just let the next page load now and I can complete the deal and get out of here. But what's this? Your session has expired; please click on the 'back' button to restart the booking process. Northern internet delay had cost me the tickets - it's a good job Jack doesn't have to rely on Tamaani.

We now have seats in row 318.

Busy doing nothing

We've been in the throes of a full-on blizzard today, with winds reaching the 100km/h mark at times, and as a result the students' trip to the crater has been postponed until some time after the Easter break. Consequently I didn't need to residence-sit after all, and I've been able to busy myself doing nothing, which to be honest is my favourite way to spend a weekend. I shall be endeavouring to stay up for the Australian Grand Prix later tonight (technically early tomorrow), and the caffeine drip will be hooked up nearer the time in an effort to avoid last night's fiasco when my attempt to watch the qualifying session ended up in an unplanned night's sleep on the sofa.

In the meantime I have the women's world curling championships to keep me occupied, and as I write Canada and Scotland are fighting for a place in tomorrow's final, which means that respective skips Jennifer Jones and Eve Muirhead will be onscreen for the next three hours or so. Not sure who's winning at the moment, but it's immaterial; whoever emerges victorious, all is suddenly right with the world.

Hurry hard!

They think it's all over...

My students sat their TOEFL yesterday, which ostensibly means that my work with them is now done. In reality though the course runs until May 7th, so the period between now and then becomes an exercise in creative thinking in order to keep them in school. This is not too difficult a task though; Roland is organising a trip to the Pingualit Crater at the weekend, and the end of next week marks the start of the Easter break, so in effect I only really have three weeks of class to organise.

I would love to be going on the excursion to the crater but, unfortunately, duty requires me to stay behind. A few of the students aren't going on the trip and will remain at the residence as they are flying home this weekend as opposed to next, and with Roland gone the building would otherwise be unstaffed (is that a word?), so yours truly will be holding the fort much like the character in a disaster movie who sacrifices himself in some heroic manner so that the main cast can escape to safety.

Speaking of disaster movies, we watched 2012 in class today as a post-TOEFL treat and, in the words of Ron Livingston in Office Space, it was everything that I thought it could be. Those of you reading this who know me well will understand that director Roland Emmerich made this film specifically for me, and he certainly didn't disappoint. I was already exhausted after the first hour, and as the film reached its climax I actually felt relieved that I didn't see it at the cinema as I honestly don't think my body would have stood up to the audio-visual pummelling afforded by a big screen, and would have simply liquified before the end credits began to roll.

As it was I came out alive (unlike most of the cast), and I was able to console those students who fear they may not have passed the TOEFL with the fact that it doesn't really matter as we only have a couple of years to live anyway, unless of course we manage to befriend John Cusack in that time.

Aren't I an inspiration?

Never meet your idols

Very cold today, but the town looked so beautiful under clear blue skies, and the way the sun met the mountain tops in the late afternoon ma....

Apologies. The pretentiousness police just pulled me over and let me off with a warning, on the condition that I step away from the cod poetry and talk about something else. How about American Idol? Is that OK, officer? It is? Good.

Idol is now down to the last 11, and this week's celebrity mentor was none other than...Miley Cyrus. A couple of the younger contestants seemed to show genuine admiration and clearly respected the advice that she gave, but it was clear that most of the group were merely tolerating her presence and were smiling and nodding politely as Hannah Montana tried to mould their fledgling careers. Crystal Showersocks has got to be the winner this season, but following his meeting with Miss Cyrus, Casey James might now be my second favourite.

As he walked on to meet her, Casey reached out, shook hands and declared, "Pleased to meet you. I'm a big fan...of your dad."

You should have seen her face.

The deafening silence

Roland was kind enough to take Melanie out for a skidoo ride last week, and today I was treated to the same trip. Having spent the majority of my Saturday vegging on the sofa this was probably a very good thing, and after a couple of hours out on the land I did indeed feel invigorated and refreshed. Whilst it wasn't an exceptionally cold day by northern standards (a mere -20° or so) one still needed to wrap up like the Michelin Man - I know that the Michelin Man never wrapped up in anything other than tyres, but you get the idea - and suitably attired I thoroughly enjoyed our little jaunt.

The one thing that you notice on excursions like these, other than the scenery, is the silence. Once you stop and the skidoo engine is switched off, there is simply no sound at all; as Roland put it, it's so quiet you can hear the silence. Without wishing to come over all existential, you really do feel at one with nature in those brief moments, and all the trivialities of everyday life seem like they belong in another realm...but then the engine roars back into life, and the real world snaps back into focus once again.

Those brief moments are well worth the trip though.

Parting is such sweet sorrow

No sooner had she arrived than she was gone.

I saw Melanie off at the airport this morning, and although it's only seven weeks until I'll see her again it feels like an eternity at the moment. We had a wonderful ten days together but it all went by so quickly; it only seems like yesterday that we were (contemplating) eating archaeologically significant bars of chocolate and antique almond cookies.

The fare was far more palatable on Wednesday night, when we attended the official opening of the new student residence - the Nasivvik. Many of the Kativik School Board's great and good were in town for the event, and after the seal skin ribbon was cut we were all invited inside for some (mercifully short) speeches and some (mercifully abundant) food. Roland, Annie-Claude and all the students did a wonderful job in preparing the building to receive such a large number of guests, and I was surprised by just how many of the dignitaries I knew or, failing that, knew me.

I suppose I've been in the North long enough now to establish a reputation of sorts, and whilst reputations are not always justly earned or bestowed, it was certainly heartening to learn from various sources that my work of the past four years has been viewed in a positive light. My probable (permanent) departure in May was common knowledge - word travels fast in these parts - and I guess I should take it as a complement that no-one I spoke to wanted me to leave, but despite the fact that you should never say never, all things being equal my life in a northern town has just seven weeks left to run...

They don't make 'em like they used to

I wish all Mondays could be like this.

We had just the second snow day of the school year today, and although we did have to be in school this morning, it's rather nice to start the week without having to teach. I say 'snow day' but it was more accurately a 'wind day' because there was no new snow but very high winds; gusts reached 120 km/h and I saw at least three witches blow past my classroom window before I came home at lunchtime. No cows though.

In other news, our food cargo finally arrived! We picked the boxes up from the airport on Saturday and to our great surprise all the contents remained intact. As a result I now have a wonderfully stocked fridge and larder, and the challenge ahead of me is to eat everything before I head back south in May. Melanie will be able to help me until she leaves on Friday, but then it's all down to me. It's a tough job, but somebody's got to do it.

We also enjoyed two rather nice breakfasts at the Residence, courtesy of Roland, over the weekend and after the first (on Saturday), we went for a walk around town, stopping at the Northern store en route to pick up some chocolate to fuel our perambulation. We chose a couple of After Eight bars, deeming them to be of a suitable post-breakfast nature, but we didn't check the date on the wrapper (you know what's coming next, don't you?).

The weather closed in during our walk and we didn't get round to eating them, but we decided instead that they would accompany our coffee upon our return home. Fortunately, we did remember to look at the wrappers before we opened them, and it was a good job too.

October 14 2006.

And they weren't even on sale. In fact, they've been in the North longer than I have, and one wonders just how long they would have remained on the shelf had we not picked them up. There's a bunch more in the store, and when the wind dies down I shall venture forth and exchange our antique chocolate for something manufactured in this decade. In the meantime, I guess I'll just have to start work on the fridge...

A false economy

Well, we've now managed to track down our boxes. They are languishing in red tape purgatory in Kuujjuaq, with my school board claiming that they are 'personal effects' and consequently our responsibility in terms of cargo fees. My contract allows me a certain amount of food cargo in a year though - an allowance which I have not come close to using up - and Melanie and I have spent the afternoon continuing the game of phone tag that we began yesterday in an attempt to convince the Board the boxes did in fact contain food as opposed to some form of contraband personal items. I think everything has now been sorted out and we should be receiving our boxes tomorrow...we shall see.

In the meantime, we ventured down to the Co-op yesterday where there is currently a 'promotion week', meaning that many items have been discounted to prices comparable to or, in some cases even cheaper than, the south. We didn't go mad, but we were able to buy a few essentials, such as enough toilet roll to last me until I leave in May, as well as some nice cookies (which could probably be counted as essentials if I think about it) for a knockdown price, and when I got home from school today we opened one of the packets of cookies - Voortman's Almond Krunch.

Melanie took one bite and immediately spat it straight back out, but I carried on with mine, branding her a fussy eater and muttering something along the lines of 'at least they were cheap.' The more I ate the more I realised that they did in fact taste a bit funny though, and it was at this stage that Melanie checked the sell by date...

March 30 2007.

I'm glad we bought the toilet roll.

Four of our boxes are missing

Melanie finally arrived safely last night, the only hitch in her journey being a two hour delay in Kuujjuaq due to a missing plane. Well, it wasn't really missing as such, more a question of being in the wrong place, but it was eventually located and Melanie was able to make the last leg of her journey without further hindrance.

The same can't be said of the boxes of food that should have been accompanying her though, which are now somewhere in transit between Montreal and Kangiqsujuaq. We have already started playing phone tag and who knows, the boxes might arrive before Melanie has to leave at the end of next week. That won't be a problem as far as the dried goods and cans are concerned, but I'm not sure how the milk is going to fare.

Good job we like yogurt.

Keeping a weather eye open

As I have mentioned before in these pages, the morning routine in these parts usually involves looking out the window and thinking 'please let there be a blizzard', but not today. Melanie is on March break at the moment, and as I type at breakfast time she is quite literally on her way up to see me! We've only had two snow days since I've been in Kangiqsujuaq, one of which was when I attempted to fly home at Christmas, and I shall be keeping my fingers crossed that we don't get our third today.

Melanie's not been back to the North since she left Inukjuak in 2007, and it will be very interesting for her to be able to compare her experience there with life in this particular northern town, as both the geography and the inhabitants are quite different here. She's also bringing up a few boxes of food with her, which will hopefully be enough to see me through until the end of my time here in May. One downside of her visit is that I've had to clean the house, but I guess that's a small price to pay for Melanie and food!

At the moment it's a bit misty but generally calm outside, although I've just seen on the forecast that the wind is meant to pick up both here and in Kuujjuaq later today. It shouldn't be enough to stop the planes from flying but fingers will remain firmly crossed, and hopefully my next posting will contain news of Melanie's (and the food's) safe arrival.

And the Oscar goes to...

Last night's Academy Awards show was an unusually subdued affair, with little in the way of surprises in either the ceremony itself or in the awards that were handed out. Nonetheless, the whole show still managed to last over three and a half hours, prompting co-host Steve Martin to comment that the evening had gone on so long that Avatar was now set in the past.

I liked that line, but the Academy didn't seem to like Avatar, choosing instead to honour the Iraq war-themed Hurt Locker with the bulk of the awards in a move that didn't really surprise me. The big-grossing, audience-friendly films rarely pick up the gongs, and any movie that shows US servicemen in a positive light is always going to find favour with the Academy. That said, I'm sure James Cameron is more than consoled by being able to sleep on his bed of money every night.

The highlight of the night for me came right at the start though, when the wonderful Christoph Waltz was handed the best supporting actor Oscar for his role in Inglourious Basterds, an award that was (sort of) predicted on these very pages back in January. Steve Martin commented that Waltz's character was a Nazi obsessed with finding Jews, and then with open arms gestured towards the audience, proclaiming 'the mother lode.' Cue uncomfortable laughter and much uneasy squirming in seats. Glorious.

Oh, before I go, an Oscar tip for next year; Tina Fey to host. You read it here first.

High, wide and anthem

Parliament reopened this week - did anyone notice that it had been closed? - and one of Stephen Harper's first moves was to propose a change to the wording of the national anthem. For those of you not in the know, O Canada begins with the lines:

O Canada! Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all thy sons command

According to the government, the anthem should be gender neutral, so the proposition was to replace the second line with 'True patriot love in thou dost us command', a line which comes from the 1908 poem on which the anthem is based.

There has been a huge public outcry against such a change though, and the government has now admitted that its policy was wide of the mark and has backed down, which is a good job as it's taken me almost five years to learn the words as they currently stand; and besides, for an upwardly mobile and forward looking country such as Canada - we own our own podium now, you know - incorporating the words thou and dost into the anthem is so, well, last century.

Speaking of anthems, I've always thought that the UK should ditch God Save The Queen in favour of one that actually refers to the country rather than an individual person. Land Of Hope And Glory would seem to be the obvious choice, but it would have to be the version that gets played at the Last Night of the Proms, which incorporates the whole of Elgar's Pomp and Circumstance March No 1. Just imagine the scenes at the 2012 Olympics if this were to become reality; every time a Brit won a gold the medal ceremony would become a riotous celebration replete with streamers, party poppers, silly hats and a full choir. Unbeatable...



...unless, of course, Canada adopted I'm a Lumberjack and I'm OK as its anthem. Now, that would be a medal ceremony worth watching.

Olympic autopsy (part two)

It's customary at the end of an Olympic Games for the IOC President, in his closing speech, to proclaim the Games 'the best ever', much in the way that the judges on American Idol always gush that 'this season is the best season ever,' no matter what the contestants do. Current IOC president Jacques Rogge was damning with faint praise though, commending Vancouver's Games as being 'excellent' and 'friendly' but stopping short of labelling them as the best Games ever.

I too was somewhat underwhelmed after the first week of competition but I was won over during week two, when each day seemed to provide incident, intrigue and interest in seemingly exponential measure, culminating in that closing ceremony. A flood of Canadian gold probably helped too, and it was the Canadian public's reaction to that success that was, for me, the most interesting aspect of the Games.

An increasingly common theme in the media here was Canada's 'rebirth' as a nation that was finally unafraid to wear its patriotism on its sleeve, Olympic success paving the way for a new brand of confident, unashamed tub thumping, the type in which Canadians had always been reticent to indulge. Many of the retrospective montages so beloved by television companies during or after any major sporting event have focused as much on the spectators as they have on the athletes, and one that I saw on CTV this week proclaimed that the greatest legacy of the Games may be that the cultural and political divides that have historically existed between the provinces may now become a thing of the past.

Now, whilst I would agree that the nation did indeed seem to come together during the Olympic period, I think it will take more than fourteen gold medals to wipe out 150 years of provincial differences. Time will tell on this issue, but even having said this, I have always found Canadians to have a great sense of national pride, and I hope that the effect of the Olympics has not been to create a new brand of American-style, in your face breast beating patriotism.

That would be a very high price to pay for ownership of the podium.

Olympic autopsy (part one)

Well, it's only been over for 24 hours and I miss it already, and I don't mean my pancakes and syrup.

It's been strange switching on the TV and finding no Olympics, but a remarkable final day ensured that the Games went out with a bang. First of all there was Canada's nail-biting overtime win in the hockey - Sidney Crosby's winning goal will now surely enshrine him as Canada's Geoff Hurst - but the real highlight had to be what was undoubtedly the most surreal closing ceremony ever.

It began with the prerequisite formalities: the entrance of the athletes, the speeches, the anthems, the lowering of the flag and the extinguishing of the flame. However, from that point on reality seemed to melt away as we were plunged into a Pythonesque array of stereotypical Canadian iconography.

William Shatner - whose mere presence should have set the surreality alarms going - set the tone by proclaiming that Canadians were the only race who knew how to make love in canoe, a group of camp, dancing mounties (think of the dance troupe at the end of Blazing Saddles, only dressed as RCMPs) upped the ante still further, and then a series of giant, It's A Knockout-style mounties, lumberjacks, beavers, moose, maple leaves and table hockey players paraded around the arena in an ever-growing display of Canadiana that Terry Gilliam would have been hard pushed to better.

Finally, Michael Bublé was wheeled into the stadium atop a giant Mountie hat which then proceeded to rise majestically into the air as he sang the final few bars of The Maple Leaf Forever. Had he then burst into I'm a Lumberjack and I'm OK the evening would have been truly complete, but as it was it was still good enough. The whole event was completely tongue-in-cheek (I think!) and personally I loved it, but the reaction at work the next day was very mixed. Some were amused, some were perplexed, some were embarrassed; how the rest of the world viewed it all remains to be seen.

I can't imagine the Americans indulging in such self-mockery, but I guess that's one of the reasons that I'm glad I live here rather than south of the border. Canada's ability to laugh at itself is one of its most endearing characteristics and one that I hope it never loses - a theme we shall return to in the next post - and the closing ceremony was a fitting end to what turned out to be a pretty good Games.

To be continued...