Inuit Idol

Two days to go.

Despite the prolonged build up to my departure, and the fact that I'm writing this surrounded by boxes in various states of 'packed-ness', I still don't think it's really sunk in that in two days I'll be on a plane out of here for the very last time. At this stage of proceedings there are so many loose ends to tie up and last minute jobs to be done that there isn't really any time to think much further ahead than today.

James' party on Saturday was fun, and I've been invited next door for supper on Tuesday, so my adventure in Kangiqsujuaq will be ending just as it began. James and Sophie fed me on my very first day here back in August, and I shall miss their kindness and friendship when I leave. I'm also eating out tonight, as Roland is putting on a supper at the residence for the departing students, and it was earlier today that I gave my students their TOEFL results, the results that dictate whether or not they get to go to college.

I always feel like Simon Cowell at this stage of the year, the whole process reminding me of the conclusion to Hollywood Week on American Idol when the contestants are told whether they've made it onto the show or not. The students sit in our classroom and then, one by one, I call them into the room next door (which is fortunately vacant a lot of the time and was again today) to give them their results. Like Simon, I'm not one to sugar coat the truth if it's bad, and whilst I don't gain any personal pleasure out of doing it this way I don't think I'd being doing the students any favours if I did it any differently. If they get praise from Simon then they deserve it, and it's the same in my class.

As it was, my students did pretty well this year so there wasn't much disappointment floating around, but it's only now that their journey really begins. When they head south to college they'll no longer be the big fishes in a small pool, and like the contestants on Idol they're going to have to work hard to stay the course. Whether they manage to stick it out remains to be seen, but at least their fate is in their own hands, with no phone votes and no Ryan Seacrest to deal with.

Dim the lights...

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?

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...

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)...

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.