The Long Good Friday

The Ivakkak crossed the finish line yesterday, and it would seem that I spoke too soon about Noah Annahatak's chances of victory. As I was writing Wednesday's post poor Noah and his team tumbled down a hill and off the trail in whiteout conditions; everyone was okay, but the time lost as a result put Noah behind Willie Cain from Tasiujaq, and he was unable to bridge the gap before the race finished in Kuujjuaq. You can see the final results here.

On the home front I'm now officially on holiday, and I'm looking forward to a week of doing absolutely nothing. Some of the teachers are staying in town but most have left for the week, and I now have ten days to relax before what is likely to be my final four weeks in the North. James and Sophie, my erstwhile neighbours, will be returning after the Easter break as they have now finished their paternity/maternity leaves, and as a result Jacob, my current neighbour (who has been working as a replacement teacher but is now staying on until the end of the year), will be moving in with me when he gets back from holiday next weekend.

I enjoy my own space and I'm basically a private person at heart, so I'm not sure how I feel about house sharing, but Jacob is a good guy - I have to say that in case he's reading - and it's only for four weeks so I'm sure we'll both cope. Good job that whole thing with the igloos isn't going to happen after all; something about the date, apparently.

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.

When the dogs have hit their stride

Whilst I was on my Easter break, the Ivakkak finished in Ivujivik, the northernmost community in Nunavik. My pre-race pick, the team of Willie Cain Jr. & Joseph Cain, came home a creditable second, whilst the crown of Ivakkak champions went to the mononamic Novalinga Novalinga and his partner, Aibilie Moses.



Depending on your source, the word Ivakkak can mean either 'running at a comfortable speed' or 'when the dogs are at their best pace', but the definition I prefer is 'when the dogs have hit their stride.' As I have said before, it was a privilege to have been able to witness the start of the race, especially when one considers its historical and cultural significance, and seeing the dogs hit their stride that day is one of the fondest memories of my time in the North.

So, hats (or tuques) off to all those who competed, and given that the Ivakkak is now a biennial event, here's to 2011.

Sunday service

Finally, after three days, my sewage tank has been emptied. Saturday morning was a harrowing time as I watched the yellow 'poop trucks' circle around outside, and they seemingly visited every other house until one eventually broke ranks and delivered me from my sewage-induced nightmare. The house opposite actually received two visits in the space of half an hour before my tank was emptied, leaving me thinking that either this was now all getting somewhat vindictive or that poor family had a serious case of the runs. Either way, I don't really think I want to know the answer.

The Ivakkak is on a rest day today, and there was sad news yesterday as one of the competitors, Harry Okpik (remember him, the man with one leg?), awoke to find two of his dogs dead; apparently, many of the male dogs have been fighting over the few females in heat that are taking part in the race. On a more positive note my pre-race pick, Willie Cain Jr, currently leads the field, but with the race not quite at the halfway stage yet it's a bit early to be heading down to Ladbrokes to collect my winnings.

Only one full week until the Easter break now, and with our school year ending in May, the tunnel where there is apparently light to be found should you travel to its end, is almost in sight!

Live free or bliz-zard

Yet another blizzard swept its way through town today, shutting down the school in the afternoon and forcing the competitors in the Ivakkak to remain camped out some 65km into their 500km journey. Now, a blizzard day (or half-day) normally gives one the chance to kick back and relax at home without the need to go into work. However, one's ability to relax in said manner is severely compromised when the sewage tank is full.

Let me explain.

All the dwellings here have their water delivered by truck, and conversely the sewage tank is emptied and its contents taken away by another truck. Service is normally daily, but when the weather is bad such services either slow down or grind to a halt, and it can take days for everything to get back into sync again. In every house there is a panel of lights that indicates whether your tanks are full or empty, and my 'sewage full' light has now been on for the last two days. Now, this light acts a little like the fuel light on the dashboard of your car in that it serves as a warning, but it's warning me that my tank is almost full as opposed to the tank in my car being almost empty.

Once the sewage tank is actually full the water supply cuts of automatically, and then you are in real trouble. Until then you are playing a game of Russian roulette with your water, and each decision becomes critical. Dare I flush the toilet? Can I wash up the plates? Could I sneak a shower? Any one of these actions could tip the balance and cost you your water supply, and with the wind still blowing hard outside, what are normally everyday tasks become matters of great internal debate. Add into the mix that I share my water and sewage tanks with the apartment downstairs, where Pierre will probably be going through the same decision making processes, and life becomes very interesting.

So at the moment I sit with a toilet unflushed, a sink full of plates that remain unwashed and if I take a shower the water will have to remain in the tub until the light goes out.

It's times like these I'm glad I don't have a sense of smell.

Mush!

The Ivakkak finally got going today, and many of us spent an enjoyable, if cold, couple of hours soaking up the atmosphere before we finally got to see the teams leave on their journey north. The Ivakkak has only been through Inukjuak once before, so to have the race actually start in the town was a prestigious honour, and there must have been a good couple of hundred people (a sizeable crowd in these parts) on site to see the teams off.

The build-up to the start of the race included a number of speeches which were then followed by one of the more joyful traditions at these type of events, whereby stacks of goodies are literally hurled into the waiting crowd who then battle to catch said goodies in the manner of fans at a baseball game trying to get their hands on a foul ball or home run. Much to my delight and surprise, I managed to pluck an Ivakkak toque (that's a woolly hat to our British readers) out of the air, and it was then off to the start line to see the teams finally begin their journey.

The Ivakkak very much combines the old with the new - each wooden sled is equipped with a GPS tracker and the whole race is shadowed by a helicopter - but it is the dog teams that remain at the heart of the event, and there were certainly some fine animals on display this morning. It surprised me that the number of dogs on each team was not even - most teams had ten, but the numbers ranged from eight up to twelve - and it is for this reason that I am going to install team #9 (Willie Cain Jr. & Joseph Cain) as my early favourites, simply because they had the most dogs. Team #12 (Johnny Aakutaaq Angnatuk & his son, Sammy) also had a dozen huskies to pull the sled, but two of them looked somewhat reticent to run and were virtually being dragged along by the others, a bit like the kids in your class at school who never wanted to take part in the P.E. lessons and consequently took forever to get changed into their kit before finally being ushered out onto the muddy field by an increasingly frustrated games teacher before he locked the changing room door.

And it wasn't just the number of dogs on each team that was uneven either, as head musher of team #1, Harry Okpik, is - to quote Peter Cook and Dudley Moore - deficient in the leg division, to the tune of one. Nonetheless, Harry has served as an inspiration for many years now, and you can read a nice little article about him from 2003 here. Harry's team was the first to leave, and one by one the other teams followed, accompanied by the cheers of the crowd as they rode away into the distance, becoming mere dots on the horizon before they finally disappeared out of sight. The helicopter that I mentioned earlier made a brief flight to check on the competitors' progress, but it then came back to town and for the rest of the afternoon a huge queue was formed as the villagers were given free sight-seeing flights over Inukjuak, a really nice touch. Whilst they were in the air, they may have been able to see the polar bear that was rumoured to have wandered into town, but much like sightings of Elvis the presence of said bear has yet to be confirmed; I shall keep you posted!

Don't forget to follow the progress of the race on the Ivakkak website, and along with news of polar bears I shall also try to keep you up to date with the race on the blog.

Bliz-zard with a vengeance

As I write, Inukjuak is in semi-lockdown as a blizzard sweeps through town. The start of the Ivakkak was postponed and school was closed this afternoon, giving us the other half of the blizzard day that I mentioned in the last post. My house guest, Gail, managed to get her flight out of town, but I think she must have only just made it as I doubt there is anything able to fly now, other than the odd plastic bag, candy wrapper or old lady that I can see swirling past my window. Things are meant to subside during the night so we might be back to normal tomorrow, but there is always the chance that school might be closed in in the morning, so we can but pray.

Pray for school to be open of course; I'm nothing if not professional!

It's all happening!

Sorry for the lack of updates over the last week - pure laziness on my behalf, I'm afraid. Just as in Dog River, there's not been a lot going on of late, although that is all about to change, as I will explain shortly. Just to fill you in though, we sort of got the blizzard that I was writing about in the last post - we had the morning off, so I guess it was a 'half blizzard day' (or a 'bliz day', or a 'zard day', depending on your preference) - and, much to my surprise, my keys were found! The locks on my apartment building have now all been changed (they were going to be changed anyway - it's not my fault, officer!) so it's a bit of a moot point, but it's nice to have them back.

Now, as I was saying before I rudely interrupted myself, it's going to be a busy week in town. Firstly, my students sat their TOEFL exam today, which was a surprise to both them and myself as Gail, who comes up from Montreal to administer the test, wasn't meant to be coming until next week, or so we thought. Anyway, at least the exam is over and done with now, and the fact that Gail is staying with me tonight has made me do all the cleaning that I've been putting off for weeks. Oh, and whilst I was cleaning, I discovered that my apartment is so small that I can vacuum the entire place without having to unplug the vacuum cleaner (or hoover, to you Brits) even once. Remarkable.

Gail is having to stay with me tonight as the hotel in town is full (yes, we have a hotel here, and it'll only cost you $250 a night to stay there if you come and visit), and this fact brings me on to the second and third things that are happening in town this week. Firstly - or should that really be 'secondly' as we already had a 'firstly' in the previous paragraph - the Makivik Corporation has its annual general meeting in town this week, so there are many dignitaries and other persons of import in town at the moment. Makivik basically runs everything in the North, so to have its AGM here is quite prestigious for the town.

Finally, and probably most interestingly (is that a word?), tomorrow marks the start of the Ivakkak dog sled race, which this year leaves from Inukjuak. The Ivakkak is an annual (although there wasn't one in 2008) race for Inuit dogsledders, which follows a varying but always challenging route across Nunavik. There are thirteen teams entered this year, including two from Inukjuak, and the race can take anything from two to three weeks to complete, depending on the weather; you will be able to follow their progress on the Ivakkak website. We shall be going to see the teams off tomorrow morning, and I'll try to post some photos in the next day or two.

OK, that's all from me for today; I need to finish my house cleaning!

Gone to the dogs

As I am sure you are aware, husky dogs have traditionally played a central role in Inuit life, and whilst the Honda and Ski-Doo have long since replaced the dog team as the preferred form of transport in these parts, many huskies continue to be kept as pets. Some huskies are still bred to race though, and events such as the Ivakkak cross-Nunavik race (similar to the Iditarod in Alaska) are highlights of the cultural and social calendar.

Basically what I'm trying to say is that there are an awful lot of dogs in town, and with such numbers come the inevitable strays. Many are friendly, and will tag along with you as you walk, but every now and again you will come across the odd renegade stray, and life then becomes just that little bit more interesting.

One of my work colleagues was confronted by such a stray recently, and for a few minutes she was forced to do her best impression of one of those police dog handlers that you sometimes see at displays; you know, when they wear huge 'Michelin man' padding on their arms then get their expertly trained dog to attack them. Trouble was, she had no assistance from the Michelin man! Luckily, the man who drives the sewerage truck was on hand to help beat her canine assailant into retreat before any real damage was done - not quite the Milk Tray Man I know: that's how things are done up here - but Cujo is still on the loose, somewhere.

Twice this week I've been followed by a rather imposing looking stray husky on my way to work, and whilst my perambulations about town have so far been uneventful, I get the worrying feeling that it's only a matter of time. Dominick tells me that you should look at a dog's tail to work out what mood they're in, but it's the other end that I'm worried about. Oh well, best summon some of that British stiff upper lip, I guess. Now, what would Barbara Woodhouse do...?