Apple's padded sell

Oscar Wilde once commented that life imitates art far more than art imitates life, and here's a wonderful example. This sketch from MADtv first aired in 2007:



Maybe Steve Jobs was watching and just decided to go with the flow.

The Bionic Residence

Students from all over Nunavik come to Kangiqsujuaq to further their education, and we have about fifteen out of town students here at the moment. Most of them are taking either Secondary 6 (college preparation) English - the course I teach - or Secondary 6 French, but one or two come here to complete their high school studies. In the smaller communities in Nunavik the number of students who actually stay in school is often so small that it doesn't warrant running Secondary 4 or Secondary 5 classes, and in those cases if there are any students who want to finish their schooling and graduate they can do so either by enrolling in adult ed classes or by coming to Kangiqsujuaq.

Up until this week these students were accommodated in a residence next to the school, and whilst this building was adequate it was little more than a shack, and the living conditions were somewhat cramped, to say the least. A new residence building has been under construction for almost two years though, and yesterday was the day when the students finally got to move in. The new building is named Nasivvik, and whilst there isn't a direct translation this means something like 'the place where you can see far,' which is apt on two levels; the studying that takes place there will hopefully allow the students to increase their opportunities in life, expanding their view of the world in the process, but the building's relatively elevated position also gives its occupants a wonderful physical view of the town, the bay and its mountainous surroundings.

The new residence could not be more different from its predecessor; in fact, it's more like a hotel - those of you reading this post who have worked in the North will instantly recognize it's structure as being almost identical to the co-op hotels - and whilst I'm not at liberty to say how much it cost, let's just say that back in the 1970s you could have built a Bionic Man on the same budget.

I'll take some photos of the interior of the new residence next time I'm there, and I'll make sure to post a few of them right here; that way, our Canadian readership can see just where their tax dollars are going...

The incredible shrinking Jobs

Apple unveiled their long-awaited new product today, and much to the surprise of everybody it wasn't a computer or mp3 player but a device that can actually shrink organic matter to as little as one tenth its original size. CEO Steve Jobs selflessly volunteered to demonstrate the awesome power of the new iShrink on himself and here he is, pictured on stage with his iPod just minutes after using it for the first time:

The iShrink does not ship with the capability to reverse the shrinking process, but apparently if you go to the iTunes store, there's an app for that.

Cutting the cheese

I've received a great deal of culinary advice since I wrote about my dalliance with Kraft Dinners last week, and in the breaks between updating my iPod I've really been going to town in the kitchen. Last night I went as far as adding a tin of tuna and a tin of mixed vegetables to my pan of mac and cheese, and it must only be a matter of time before I receive an invitation to take part in the next season of Hell's Kitchen.

I also still have two chunks of mystery meat in my freezer - could be caribou, could be whale - but I've been a bit wary about tackling them as they're both as big as my head and I don't possess a suitable cleaver with which to carve them up. If I can get round to borrowing one then I can expand my repertoire still further, but until such time we'll stick with more traditional fare.

Oh and speaking of cheese, which we were earlier, I read today about an employee of McDonald's in the Netherlands who was fired because she gave a colleague a free slice of the stuff. It seems that she gave a co-worker on a break a more expensive cheeseburger instead of the hamburger that she'd paid for, and as this contravened the company's rules that prohibit staff from giving free gifts to friends, family or colleagues, she was given the sack. She's now won her court case for unfair dismissal, but I don't think the $6000 she was awarded in compensation will make too much of a dent in McDonald's 2009 fourth quarter profit of $1.2 billion, which they announced last week.

Makes you think: if someone is fired for stealing a piece of cheese, I wonder what would happen if they stole a whole burger? Might explain why we don't see Hamburglar any more...

iNeed help

Another weekend has come and gone and, to paraphrase John Lennon, "So this is Sunday, and what have you done?" Well, not a lot, to tell you the truth. I did have a nice breakfast at the new student residence this morning, but I've spent most of my weekend organizing my iTunes folder and have come to the conclusion that I am developing some sort of OCD disorder.

Now, I know that the use of the word 'disorder' just then was redundant as the 'D' in OCD actually stands for 'disorder', but the sentence didn't sound right without it. And did you know that this is an example of RAS syndrome, that is the "redundant use of one or more of the words that make up an acronym in conjunction with the abbreviation itself," like PIN number or ATM machine or HIV virus? RAS stands for 'Redundant Acronym Syndrome', so note the self-referential irony in that the term 'RAS syndrome' is actually itself an example of RAS syndrome.

Oh my, now I've gone cross-eyed.

Where were we before we got lost in that linguistic hall of mirrors? Oh yes - iTunes. I got a new iPod Touch for Christmas, and whilst uploading all my music I made sure that every track had the correct album art, which I think is a reasonable endeavour. I've now gone too far though because I'm now checking the year and genre attached to each song, cross-referencing with Wikipedia as I go, as well as correcting any spelling errors and mis-capitalizations. I have over 7000 songs on my iPod and my plan was to go through one, maybe two letters of the alphabet each day so that I'd have the project finished in a fortnight, but over the last 48 hours I've not been able to stop. I started on Friday evening and I'm now up to the S's already.

Last night in bed I actually got round to listening to the damn thing and noticed that one of my Dave Matthews Band albums was incorrectly listed as a compilation. Did this affect the quality of the music coming through my headphones? No. Could I ignore the error? No again. I had to get up, come downstairs, switch on the laptop and sort it out there and then. At 2 in the morning. I really need help, don't I? There are no psychiatrists this far north though, so in the meantime back to work...The Best Of Sad Cafe - Rock? Don't think so - Soft Rock maybe - and no year; what does Wikipedia say...?

P.S.
Before anyone points it out, I'm fully aware that the fact that I have The Best of Sad Cafe on my iPod is probably more worrying than any form of OCD that I may be developing. I am truly a lost cause.

Get your skates on!

Yesterday the whole school - the students and staff, as opposed the building itself - took a trip to the arena for an afternoon of ice skating. Most, if not all, of the communities in Nunavik have an arena, and the arena here is called the Nurraujaq Forum; nurraujaq is the Inuttitut word for goat and before you ask no, I don't understand either. Now, whilst the idea of building an ice rink in the North might at first seem akin to building a swimming pool in the middle of the Pacific, these arenas are well used and provide a focal point for the community in a land where skating in general and hockey in particular are part of the national psyche.

Hockey tournaments are held regularly in the North, and each community has its own teams, male and female, which are proudly supported whenever they play. I'm not quite sure who named the team here - maybe it was the same person that named the arena - but they either lacked a basic knowledge of geography or were simply highly sarcastic:

I'll leave you to ponder that for a moment...

I didn't skate yesterday - skating's just not my bag, baby - but I had plenty of vicarious fun watching everyone else glide, stutter and stumble around the rink, and although I've now lived in Canada for over four years I don't think it's ever going to be something that I take to. I have tried in the past, but I decided that the bruises weren't worth it so now I'm the one who looks after the shoes and coats.

Somebody's got to.

Charity begins at home

Someone came to my door tonight requesting a donation for the Haiti earthquake fund. She asked very politely and explained that the Education Committee here had organized the collection, and the amount of cash in her bucket showed that people had already been giving very generously.

Equally politely, I explained that I would not be making a donation.

Now, don't get me wrong, I think that what has happened in Haiti is truly awful; I feel nothing but sorrow for all those affected, and as I have mentioned before, two of my colleagues here have friends and family there. No, the reason I didn't give is that, in my opinion, a charitable donation should be a personal choice made on one's own terms and should not be something that is solicited on a doorstep.

Does this make me a bad person? I don't think so. An old teacher of mine once put forward the argument that charitable giving could be seen as counter-productive as it took the burden of responsibility off the government's shoulders and put it on those of the public instead, and whilst I would not necessarily subscribe to this point of view, when I make a donation it will always be out of choice, not out of guilt. There are collection boxes in school and at both the stores here, so I know exactly where to go. Maybe I have been already.

I am not trying to demean anyone's efforts here or to criticise anyone who has already made a donation, solicited or otherwise, as the people of Haiti need all the help they can get. It's just something I feel strongly about. Please understand that.

A kraftsman at work

Well, I haven't burned, melted or vaporised anything since the last post, and I have actually ventured beyond sandwiches since then too. Last night I sampled the delights of Kraft Dinner, which was brave considering the need to boil water, but on this occasion my trusty wooden spoon stood up to the challenge and I was able complete the dinner service without a hitch, although it could be argued that a few pieces of melted plastic may have gone some way to enhancing the flavour.

In fact, I have to say that Kraft Dinner has been one of the highlights of what has been a mundane old week thus far. There's not a lot going on here at the moment, and at times like these one has to resort to making one's own entertainment. I could try to eviscerate another kitchen utensil I suppose, but replacements are just so costly in these parts so that probably wouldn't be a good idea. Then again, it's still only Tuesday...

There is no spoon

I melted a spoon today.

Now, that can't be a sentence that has been written too often before, if at all, so let me explain. I fancied some rice for lunch so I put on a pan of water to boil whilst I was watching the end of the soccer on TV, but so engrossed in the game did I become that I completely forgot about my boiling water until my eardrums were all but burst by the smoke alarm going off (at least I now know it works).

As I turned my head away from the screen I was suddenly aware that the house had filled with smoke over the course of the second half, and after frantically scrambling upstairs to shut off the alarm I set about trying to find the source of what I thought must be a fire because, after all, there's no smoke without one. It was only when I entered the kitchen that I remembered my pan, and upon closer inspection the mystery was solved.

There had been no fire - thus disproving the maxim I referred to earlier - but for some unknown reason I had left a plastic mixing spoon in the water as it boiled (a spoon with which I eventually intended to stir my rice), and now not only was there no water left but there was no spoon either. Only the part of the handle that must have been sticking out of the pan remained, and the scene was reminiscent of one of those photos of spontaneous human combustion where all that is left of the victim is a disembodied lower leg, complete with slipper.

The rest of the spoon had totally dissolved, and I now had to run around the house opening all the windows in order to let out the resulting smoke, which I guess wasn't too toxic as I'm still here some hours later relaying the story to you. I abandoned the whole rice idea until this evening - luckily I had a back-up p(l)an - and on this occasion I didn't leave the kitchen until the whole meal was cooked and on my plate.

I think I'll stick to sandwiches from now on.

The weekend looms

My suitcase finally arrived today, and whilst it's pleasing to be repatriated with both the case and its contents, an event of the magnitude of the Haitian earthquake certainly puts the inconvenience of a piece of lost luggage firmly in perspective. We have two teachers at the school here with either friends or family in Haiti, and it has been heartening to witness the support they have been offered by the community over the past couple of days. The scenes of devastation that have been coming out of Haiti seem to have had a special resonance amongst the local population, and my students have certainly been very keen to learn about the whats, wheres, whys and hows associated with the whole disaster.

Moving back into the bubble that surrounds my own little piece of the world, I'm very much looking forward to the weekend, for although I will have only taught for three days this week come the end of Friday, it always takes some time to readjust to the rhythm of life here following an extended break in the south. We have a staff meal to look forward to tomorrow night which will mean I will get at least one decent meal this week, and I intend to spend the rest of the weekend hedonistically catching up with the backlog of episodes of House and CSI New York that I have been meaning to watch for ages, and possibly giving the house a bit of a clean for the first time since I've been back.

Or possibly not.

Back to work

I'm now back in Kangiqsujuaq, where it's only marginally colder than in the UK (-26 at the time of writing) and although my journey was relatively uneventful, especially compared to the one I made before Christmas, First Air managed to leave my suitcase in Montreal, along with the baggage of many of the other passengers on my flight. It's often a case of cargo or passengers in the North, as opposed to cargo and, but at least I didn't have too many essentials in my case and I can get by until it arrives.

Seeing as half my students haven't yet returned I made today into an unofficial ped day for myself, but it should be back to business as usual tomorrow, or at least as usual as you can expect in these parts. It's always interesting to see just who does and who doesn't return after the Christmas break, both in terms of students and staff, and I know that the school is at least one teacher down due to the fact that the chap who was meant to be replacing my erstwhile neighbour James, who is now on paternity leave, has not shown up.

So, if anyone fancies coming up to teach some Social Studies and Math for the next two or three months, there's a classroom waiting for you...

The last farewell?

Well, I endured my trip to the dentists with manful dignity, and compared to last year's marathon it was actually a breeze. I was only in the chair for ninety minutes this time round and, courtesy of the TV precariously bolted to the wall, I had the Weather Channel for company as the dentist and his assistant attacked my mouth with gay abandon. Many of the reports came from the UK, where temperatures have been rivalling ours of late, and whilst I have somewhat ridiculed the mother country's inability to deal with the cold in the past, I must admit that this year Britain's winter really has been one for the ages. This recent satellite picture looks like it could have been generated for a scene in The Day After Tomorrow, but I assure you it's for real:

On Monday I will be experiencing English-like temperatures as I head back North, but if Melanie can find me a job at King's Town School next year this could be the last time I make the trip. I enjoy what I do in Nunavik but it doesn't get any easier leaving Melanie behind each time I go back, and I really don't know if I could manage another year after this one. We don't own the future though, only the now, so for the time being I shall simply pack my bags and do what has to be done. Next stop: Kangiqsujuaq.

Working from home

So, the first post of 2010 and the blog goes into its third calendar year of operation. Quite what the new year will bring is anyone's guess, but for the time being I'm enjoying an extra week at home. I have a further appointment with the dentist on Friday and I am not now due to fly back North until Monday, all of which is something akin to a late Christmas present (except the dentist part). I recently found out that my colleagues in Kangiqsujuaq got snowed/fogged in before Christmas, and some of them didn't get home until the 23rd; as a result the start of school has been put back a few days, so I won't be the only one returning to work a little later than planned.

Much of this week has seen me sorting out a variety of financial paperwork, the type of stuff that makes you wish you were an ostrich with a suitably deep bucket of sand nearby, but it has to be done and it's much easier for me to do it whilst I'm still in the south. Melanie went back to work on Monday so my house husbandry is also extending to washing, cleaning and cooking, the latter of which is currently inspired by Julie & Julia, a film which I was reticent to watch when Melanie rented it on Monday but that I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed. Speaking of movies, my other favourite of the holiday has been Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds, which must be as cinematically removed from Julie & Julia as Amy Winehouse is from sobriety; if Christoph Waltz doesn't get an Oscar nomination for his role as Colonel Hans Landa then there is simply no justice in this world.

For now though it's back to the finances, and an impending walk in the snow to the bank. Tim Hortons is inconveniently at the other end of town, but fortunately I feel in the mood for taking the scenic route today...