Taking the plunge

Compared to some, I've not fared too badly in the water stakes during my time in the North. Yes, there were my recent water truck woes, and back in Inukjuak I suffered at the hands of some vindictive sewage trucks, but by and large I haven't done too badly; remind me one day to tell you about my brown water shower though...

In the house where I am now the bathroom sink never has drained too quickly, but until last night at least it has always drained eventually; however, maybe through the strain of accommodating both Jacob and I, it finally stopped trying last night. Jacob managed to procure a plunger at school today, and this evening the Super Mario Brothers tried to unblock the blockage.

A good amount of tag team plunging ensued, and although we didn't totally cure the problem, we certainly revealed the cause; our sink was blocked by copious amounts of sand. No, we had no idea why either - maybe it was some of the ash from the volcano in Iceland. Whatever the reason though, our puny plunger wasn't up to the task, so we had to call in the professionals. Papigatuk, the school's maintenance man, came round with a dalek-worthy, industrial strength plunger, and in a short while our sink was draining merrily once again.

What a fascinating life I lead.

Water, water, every where...

My holiday has not got off to the best of starts.

I woke up this morning to find that I don't have any water. As I have mentioned before, trucks deliver all the water to the houses here and then take away all the sewage - in a different truck, thankfully - so if the trucks don't run or for some reason miss you out then you have a problem. The service in Kangiqsujuaq is actually pretty good - my warning lights have only come on twice in the whole year, whereas in Inukjuak it was a far more regular occurrence - but I'm now in a totally dry house.

It's at times like these that you fully appreciate just how much water you use in a day and what you use it for, and whilst I'm in no way likening my plight to that of the Ethiopians, the whole situation is most inconvenient. I fully appreciate the irony of being surrounded by snow and ice but not having a drop of potable water in the house, and I know I most certainly would not have made a good Inuk in the times when they still lived off the land.

I have been playing phone tag for most of the day trying to get a water delivery, but so far my efforts have been in vain. I walked up to the residence and filled up a couple of water jugs there so at least I have some modest rations to see me by in the short term, but with this being the Easter long weekend I'm not entirely sure when I'm next going to see the 'truck of life.' So be thinking of me as you unwrap your Easter eggs, and raise a glass to me at your dinner table; if it's full of water though, would you mind just keeping it to one side...

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.