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.

Powering down

We had a power cut yesterday - only the second since I've been in Kangiqsujuaq, which isn't bad going as we had them all the time in Inukjuak - but unlike the one we had back in October this one was at night and lasted a fair bit longer. The power went down right at the end of House and I also missed the whole of 24, which was most annoying. I've been recording 24 with the intention of viewing all the episodes en bloc at some future time, but I guess that plan's now scuppered.

It was during this period of total darkness that I realised I don't have a torch - I still find it hard to call torches 'flashlights' - or any candles up here, but thankfully I downloaded the flashlight app for my iPod a little while ago (hey, I said 'flashlight') so I was able to patrol the house whilst listening to music that was guaranteed to be correctly filed and sorted. About an hour later the power came back on, but within ten minutes it went off again, only to come back on after a couple of minutes, after which time it failed again....

After about an hour of this the power finally stopped coming back on, but by this time I had already got fed up and gone to bed. I found it hard to sleep though as I was very aware that my alarm clock probably wouldn't go off in the morning, and this was a situation that I found unduly stressful for some reason (oh for the days of huge wind-up alarm clocks, now only seen in old cartoons or dangling from Flavor Flav's neck). A few hours of spasmodic sleep followed, and it was 3am when I finally became aware that the power was back on; the clock was duly reset, and I am happy to report that I managed to make it to work on time this morning.

Considering the fact that I spent the previous post relaying my tales of boredom, I suppose one could say that at least this week has started with a bit of excitement, but when the only excitement here is an event that stops you watching TV and makes you go to bed early....

M'lud, I rest my case.

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...

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!

The final curtain (part one)

As I write I’m sitting outside Tim Horton’s at Montreal’s Trudeau Airport, it's 10.30 on Friday night and I'm waiting for the flight that will form the final leg of my journey home tomorrow morning. As predicted, it was a hectic last week in Inukjuak – a contributing factor towards the lack of posts in that time – and it was a week that maybe ended one chapter but perhaps began another.

It was with mixed emotions that I hosted our graduation ceremony on Thursday. It was the fifth time that I’ve acted as host, thus making me something like the Bob Hope or the Billy Crystal of the North, and whilst a lot of effort goes into organising the event, it is always gratifying when, eventually, the day runs relatively smoothly. Proceedings were delayed this time around as we had to wake up one of the graduates who’d fallen asleep after a large lunch, but other than that the afternoon ran pretty well.

On a personal level, the most gratifying moment of the day came when I was approached by two women (you both know who you are!) at the graduation meal in the evening. Both parties clearly knew who I was, but there they had the advantage as I couldn’t place them at all. However, all was then revealed as they both explained that before coming North to work, they had discovered the blog during their research and, much to my delight, had still decided to come! It was quite a novel experience to meet one’s ‘public,’ and it just goes to prove that, despite whatever isolation one may feel, we really do inhabit a small world.

Now I'm back, I have once again been reminded of some of the many differences between the North and the South. Cellphones are prevalent once more. I was just able to buy a beer at a bar. All the people that I am now surrounded by all seem to be in such a hurry. And I have even seen a number of people wearing masks, no doubt trying to protect themselves from the swine flu despite the fact that they are more likely to die in the twisted wreckage of the plane that they’ve just flown on or are about to catch. I have a compelling urge to run up to them and cough in their face whilst performing the Mexican Hat Dance. Come on, people!

Anyway, porcine-induced death permitting, I shall be home within the next twelve hours and free to contemplate both what has been and what is to come. A chef friend of mine once said that ‘in the kitchen, there are always possibilities’; at the moment, life is my kitchen.

And now the end is near...

This could be my last week in the North.

It is almost certainly my last week in Inukjuak.

As I have mentioned before, our school year ends this Friday, and I am still none the wiser as to my future employment prospects. I've worked for three years in Inukjuak now, and since moving out to Canada in 2005 this small town is where I've spent most of my time. Consequently, I've become somewhat attached to the place - its people, its routines, even its weather - and I have very mixed feelings about the possibility of having to say goodbye.

I think that most of us are, deep down, creatures of habit, and the prospect of having to break the habits I have spent three years developing is not one that I'm looking forward to, if I'm honest. After such a period of time in a small community one is able to find a place, a niche if you like, both in a professional and a personal sense, and although there are many problems and inconveniences that have to to be surmounted, you can't put a price on that sense of 'worth.'

In the meantime, I continue to (put off) packing my boxes and to tie up what loose ends I can. There are many goodbyes that have to be made this week, an onerous task at the best of times, and one that is made all the more problematic by the fact that I might be saying 'hello' again in September. It's a bit like when you bump into someone you haven't seen for ages whilst you're out shopping; after you've spent time catching up you then bid your fond farewells, only to run into them again two minutes later in the next aisle, causing you to go through the whole awkward process all over again.

So, whether Friday will indeed prove to be the final curtain, or whether there will be a Sinatra-esque comeback to be made, only time will tell. What is for sure though is that I now have only four days left to pack, so I really ought to make a start...