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)...

Thanks for what?

It's not without irony - proper irony too, none of your Morissettian misunderstanding here - that on Thanksgiving Day (for Americans, anyway) I'm feeling somewhat down and decidedly unthankful. I've been ill for the last couple of days which hasn't helped (although I've still managed to make it into school), and in that time a number of problems and challenges have presented themselves which have led me to question whether where I am at the moment is actually where I want to be.

I won't burden you with the details of my travails - after all, a problem shared is a problem doubled - save to say that none of them are life-threatening and, compared to all the troubles that exist in the rest of the world, none of them are probably worth fretting and fussing over at all. However, one doesn't live in 'the rest of the world,' and in the part of it that forms my own personal little bubble there are a great many frustrations to be dealt with at the moment. Any one in isolation could be manageable but problems, like buses, never seem to arrive on their own and their effect on each other tends to be exponential rather than summative.

The fact that I've started to use words like exponential and summative is probably a sign that I should sign off now. The working man's tonic, otherwise known as the weekend, is almost upon us, and a couple of day's R&R is probably just what I need right now. Thanks for reading, and I promise to make the next post a little more light-hearted!

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.

Food for thought

My internet connection has been more down than up over the last few days, and yesterday morning we had a power cut, not an uncommon feature in these parts. Normally the power comes back after a few minutes, but this time it was out for over an hour, which is really hardly any time at all, but it was enough time to make me frustrated.

There was no TV, no internet, no phone and no running water (everything is interdependent here).

I of course went outside to make sure that it was not just my house that was affected, and when I found out that it was indeed a village-wide blackout I was able to take some sort of sadistic pleasure in the fact that everyone was in the same boat. The power eventually came back, but I think the whole episode has made me realise that perhaps I have not become as detached from my material needs as I believed I had.

Food for thought indeed (but not the type of food that needs an oven to cook it in case the power goes down again).

Maybe a cheese sandwich for thought...

Sex, Lies and Red Tape (without the sex and lies)

Gosh, I hadn't realised that it had been a week since my last post. Sad, lonely person that I am, I've hardly left the apartment in the last seven days, but looking back quite a lot has still managed to happen in that time.

Firstly, the fact that I conducted the interview I was telling you about last time in my pyjamas obviously didn't count against me, as I was offered the job! It was a teaching post with the Gitxaala Nation and would have seen me working in the small community on Dolphin Island, near Prince Rupert in British Columbia. I say would have because I actually turned down the offer, since there would not also be a job for Melanie there. It would have been an interesting experience, but at least I don't now need to change the title of the blog, and I don't need to go through the laborious process of applying for a teaching permit in B.C.

Now, I love living in Canada, but the way the education system is run over here continues to be one of my great frustrations. Education is run provincially, rather than federally, and is a perfect example of how Canada, whilst technically a single entity, is in reality a collection of thirteen independent nations, each with their own identity and approach. This provincial structure should not in itself be a problem, but the provinces simply do not talk to each other, and what is already a bloated and overly-bureaucratic process consequently becomes all the more frustrating.

I could just about handle the fact that my thirteen years of teaching experience in the UK counted for very little when I first came over to Canada. I was new to the country and, despite having the same queen on our currency, I had to prove to the Ontario College of Teachers (OCT) that I had the qualifications I claimed I had. I had to provide proof that I had the 'O' and 'A' levels that I said I had, I had to provide original transcripts from my universities to prove that I'd passed my degrees and I then had to provide proof that I was actually a certified and registered teacher, which of course I couldn't be in the first place without having passed all the exams which I'd already had to prove I'd passed!

Then, I had to apply to another, entirely separate, body - the Qualifications Evaluation Council of Ontario (QECO) - who would decide what pay scale I would be on when, and if, I found gainful employment. They needed much of the same information that I'd already sent to the OCT, but do the two organizations communicate with each other? Of course not! I had to submit everything again myself. Eventually, QECO decides how much you will be paid, and you are then finally able to start teaching properly if, as an 'outsider', you can actually force your way into the virtual closed shop that is run by the school boards, but that's a story for another time.

However, that's not the end of it, because as I mentioned earlier, the provinces don't talk to each other. Each province has their own equivalent of the OCT and QECO, and if you want to work in a different province, YOU HAVE TO GO THROUGH THE SAME PROCESS AGAIN! Did you notice that I wrote that last bit in capitals? That's because I'm frustrated. I can see absolutely no logic behind this process, and if anyone actually can then I'd love them to explain it to me.

OK, sorry about that; rant over now. I was also going to write about how the cable guy came round this week - not Jim Carey, but a real cable guy - and how Michael Jackson's death must have really annoyed the backroom staff in the newsrooms who had spent days preparing tribute reels for Farrah Fawcett, but there isn't time now. The concluding part of Impact is about to start, and Earth only has 39 days left before the Moon crashes into it. Of course, that is unless a crack group of scientists, led by the unlikely, yet robust, figure of Natasha Henstridge, can come up with a plan.

For the Earth's sake, I just hope they don't need to get their qualifications ratified first.