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.

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...

Extra time

It's been more than 'a couple of days' since my last post I know, but as I've said before I tend to lose all track of chronological perspective at this time of year so you will have to excuse me. Christmas has now been and gone but we had a good one, and I've been able to catch up with most our friends in and around Kingston. I've also been catching up with eating too and have put on about eight pounds since I've been back, but when you consider the fact that I lost twenty pounds between August and December then it's probably not such a bad thing. I don't eat badly in the North, but there's less snacking - trips to Tim Hortons are not a particularly realistic proposition - and I guess the cold must effect my metabolism in a weight reducing manner.

It should be less than a week before my return to Kangiqsujuaq, but as is rapidly becoming a Christmas tradition (well, it happened last year as well) I need to visit the dentist, and with my appointment booked for Monday - the day I should have flown back - this will necessitate a few extra days in the South. Whilst the prospect of going under the knife (or whatever instruments dentists use) is not a pleasant one, a few extra days at home with Melanie is a good pay-off, so it might be a little while yet before the blog comes to you live from Nunavik once again.

Not sure what we're doing for New Year's yet, but I shall wish you a happy one for now as the next post probably won't be until 2010 (that's next year, not ten past eight). Happy New Year!

Almost home

I'm writing this courtesy of the wi-fi service at the Via Rail station in Montreal, which means that I'm almost, repeat almost, home. After a hugely frustrating 48 hours I'm not counting any chickens though.

I managed to get to Kuujjuaq yesterday where, as I mentioned before, I was on standby for Montreal. Happily First Air got me on board the Montreal flight, but after two hours waiting on the tarmac, those of us who had been on standby were asked to raise their hands. Oh dear...this didn't look good.

And indeed it wasn't. The flight was going to stop in Iqaluit first - check your atlas to see how little sense this route makes - where we would take on more passengers, and there was a chance that the 'standbyers' would be asked to leave the plane and be forced to remain in Iqaluit. When I asked what was meant by a 'chance' I couldn't be given a precise answer, which was a little worrying given that planes have a finite number of seats so, given that the next flight out of Iqaluit was not until Monday, I decided to get off.

After a night in the Co-op hotel in Kuujjuaq and a further six hours waiting at the airport I finally got my flight, and here I am, waiting for my train. I shall be so glad to get home and get clean - I've travelled light on this trip so no changes of clothes - but I shall also be sparing a thought for my teaching friends and colleagues back up in Kangiqsujuaq, who were unable to leave today because of the weather. I have every sympathy and I know how they feel, and I can only hope that they will make it back in time for Christmas.

As for me, the holiday now begins, and for once I think I've earned it. Tims here I come...

Grounded

Big.

Huge.

Blizzard.

I'm still in Kangiqsujuaq. Full-on blizzard all day today so no flights anywhere. Had to go to the airport nonetheless as flights are rarely cancelled until the last minute up here, and the drive there was a very interesting experience. Roland was at the wheel and quite how he got us there I will never know; you literally could not see five feet in front of you for much of the journey.

I'm now booked on a flight for tomorrow which will get me to Kuujjuaq, but I'm then only on standby to Montreal and there are six people ahead of me on the waiting list, so I look like facing an overnight stop somewhere in Nunavik's capital-in-waiting. However, maybe the weather will mean that some other people won't make their connecting flights tomorrow, and this might sneak me on board; we shall have to wait and see.

Until then I remain hunkered down in Kangiqsujuaq, and with the wind still howling and my house still shaking I'm beginning to wonder if we'll actually fly tomorrow morning at all. But let's not go there, unless 'there' is actually home, in which case then we will go, thank you.

More news tomorrow (maybe)...

What's mine is yours

We had an unexpected visit from representatives of the Raglan Mine yesterday, which eased the boredom of what would otherwise have been a mundane, regulation (but far from manic) Monday. Raglan is a huge nickel mine northwest of here, and as one of the larger employers in Nunavik they regularly send teams around the schools to pass on information about the work opportunities there. At the moment only 17% of the workforce is Inuit, but the aim of the mine's owners is to increase this figure to 20% in the near future.

The mine operates a profit-sharing initiative with Nunavimmiut (people of Nunavik), and last year $6.8 million was distributed amongst the 14 communities here. This sounds like a lot of money - and it is - but it is only about a fifth of the $32.4 million that was handed out in 2007. It seems that the bottom has fallen out of the nickel market in the past twelve months, a state of affairs that wasn't mentioned in the presentation at school, but despite this drop in profitability there is still a great deal of money floating around, and each community has its own method of using their share of the pie.

Salluit and Kangiqsujuaq receive the lion's share, being the nearest communities to the mine geographically, and here in Kangiqsujuaq much of the money is pooled and we now have a beautiful new community gym (the building where the Bowhead Feast was held earlier in the year) as a result. Some communities simply distribute their entire share on a purely individual basis though, and as a result, in the words of one of my students, it is often drunk away in a very short period of time. Many Inuit travel to Montreal in order to spend their windfall, and they are increasingly being targeted by local thieves who know that they have money to spend; the results are sometimes tragic, and you can read more here.

Consequently, the role of Raglan is a matter for constant debate in these parts, centering mainly on the level of Inuit employment there and the use of its profits, and with the mine having around fifty further years of potential use left in it, the debate is unlikely to be concluded any time soon.

An evening with Father Dion

One of the attractions of living and working in the North is the variety of people that you get to meet, and over the last couple of days I have been fortunate enough to spend some time with Father Jules Dion, Kangiqsujuaq's long-time resident priest and, as I was to find out later, champion Scrabble player.

Last night I was invited to have supper with Roland and his wife Hannah - Roland is in charge of the student residence here - and also joining us was Father Dion, who I had read a little bit about before I first came to Kangiqsujuaq back in August. Pere Dion, who is now around 80 years old, is originally from Belgium and first came to the North as a Catholic missionary in 1955. He worked in Quaqtaq then, and in 1964 the Bishop moved him to Kangiqsujuaq - "because a change is good for you" - where he has resided ever since. The Catholic mission where Father Dion lives and works is the oldest building still standing in the village, having been originally built by the army in 1927, and when he first arrived here it was just about the only building, with the locals still living in igloos.

Having enjoyed the wonderful hospitality of Roland and Hannah last night, I visited Father Dion at the mission tonight, where we exchanged stories for a couple of hours as he gently and graciously gave me a sound hiding at Scrabble, 351 points to 225. Whilst we were playing I commented that he must be getting help from above with his letters; he responded by quietly playing the word 'exile,' which scored 67 points and proved my theory in the process. I didn't care though, for it was a wonderful way to spend an evening, and a rematch is already on the cards.

You can read more about Father Dion here and here, and I urge you to take the time to do so as he is one of life's true pioneers and has an incredible story to tell. I look forward my next visit to the mission, and if I am ever to beat Father Dion at Scrabble I clearly need either to pray a lot or to commit my dictionary to memory, because otherwise I fear it will be a case of mission impossible.

Buffering...

It's been a relatively relaxing last few days, and in exactly five weeks time I shall be back home for Christmas (weather and flights permitting, of course). Our holiday on Wednesday was followed up by two ped days, so I should feel refreshed when I return to school on Monday. Or at least that's the plan, as I've spent most of today being driven to despair by my internet connection.

I'm online and I can use Skype with no problems, but accessing any web pages is next to impossible. I think half the town's population must be downloading movies today, slowing everything to a crawl; it's as if the internet is being filtered through a giant piece of muslin. The visiting computer technician at school has informed me that Kangiqsujuaq has one of the quickest connections in the North though, so I guess I should be thankful for small mercies.

And for the chocolate cake I made earlier.

Making mountains out of molehills

Still feeling somewhat pleased with myself following my dalliance with mountaineering at the weekend, I decided to tell my class all about my experience today. However, rather than receiving congratulations and plaudits for my escapade, my story was greeted with comments such as "so you walked up the small hill, eh?" and "maybe next time you can try the big one" (Mr C., you were right!).

I immediately realised that my feat was distinctly less impressive than I'd imagined, and as a result perhaps my previous post would have been better off being titled The Englishman who thought he'd gone up a mountain only to be informed that he'd really just walked up a large hill. This realisation was confirmed when Sarah, a colleague of mine here (hi Sarah!), left a comment on that post explaining that she and her husband had climbed the same peak two weeks ago, sharing their baby carrier between them.

So, weather permitting, I shall attempt to scale Kangiqsujuaq's east peak this coming weekend, although given the fact that we now have snow forecast every day between now and then, I can't promise anything; I'm such a fair weather mountaineer!

Mussel man

At the end of our ped day yesterday a few of us went mussel picking, another activity I can now add to my list of firsts; I went picking for cockles in Dorset when I was young but never, I think, for mussels. I returned with a modest haul, which I'll attempt to cook today, but in the winter the harvest is likely to be more plentiful, although the activity then becomes far more interesting.

Once the bay is entirely frozen, it is possible to venture below the ice when the tide is out and retrieve a veritable bounty of mussels before the waters come back in once more. Such a method of mussel picking is unique to Kangiqsujuaq, and you can read more about it here. I have a few months to ponder whether I will take up the opportunity to join the winter mussel harvest, and if I've been able to take out some appropriate life insurance by then I think I'll have a go. For now though, I shall confine my adventures to the kitchen, and I'll let you know how I get on tomorrow!

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!

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)