Some things I have learned since I've been here:
Lemmings look like little hamsters, and they burrow in the snow.
In a power outage here, it's darker than you can imagine.
It is possible for wind to blow so hard that you can't walk into it.
The generator that runs the town electricity is not constant, and digital clocks are rarely accurate.
"Sybo" is an insult. (but I don't know what it means)
Dried caribou is very chewy.
A 'sled' is a snowmobile. This was confusing... (What size engine does your sled have?)
The Innuinaqtun words for "I'm fine" (in response to How Are You?) sound a lot like "Not so much tuna."
My daughters can manage to share a room without maiming each other!!!
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Ian had his birthday party today. Five 12-yr-old boys playing poker and watching movies and eating. I made a cake and caramel corn, we provided them with chips and pop and let them get on with it. (I typed 'pot' in there, had to change it, that's a very different type of party...) Tonight I'm just sitting and enjoying the quiet. Ahhh. It is minus 31. My neighbour (mentioned the other day) is camping in his TENT out on the tundra.
Time changes tonight. The sun doesn't get very high in the sky during the day now. It travels horizontally, even at noon today it was in such a position that I expected it to be setting, but it kept moving along the horizon until about 4 pm. I guess since it's been so cloudy the last few weeks I didn't notice.
I'm still trying not to smoke. As I don't smoke in the house, my wanting to be on the porch in my parka is not strong.
Time changes tonight. The sun doesn't get very high in the sky during the day now. It travels horizontally, even at noon today it was in such a position that I expected it to be setting, but it kept moving along the horizon until about 4 pm. I guess since it's been so cloudy the last few weeks I didn't notice.
I'm still trying not to smoke. As I don't smoke in the house, my wanting to be on the porch in my parka is not strong.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
I woke up in the night to the sound of the wind. Miguel has been in Iqaluit all week (hence the lack of additions to this log, he took my laptop) and was due to fly back this afternoon. When I went outside with the dogs this morning, the wind was whipping snow down the street and the clouds were ominous and seemed close enough to touch on tiptoes. This is a hazard of travel in the Arctic -- having reservations does not guarantee that you will be flying anywhere, even in October. Conveniently, however, the cloud cover lifted during the morning, and his plane came in.
He brought A&W, at Rachel's request, and donuts... mmm donuts.
My neighbour is gearing up to go hunting. He's got his sleds out, and tonight he's putting up his tent, a large white army-looking structure. I've heard he's an excellent hunter. The caribou are migrating.
An emotional week. The group of women in this program are amazing, they've had such hard lives in many ways, but they can still maintain hope and humour. I am very privileged to get to work with them.
He brought A&W, at Rachel's request, and donuts... mmm donuts.
My neighbour is gearing up to go hunting. He's got his sleds out, and tonight he's putting up his tent, a large white army-looking structure. I've heard he's an excellent hunter. The caribou are migrating.
An emotional week. The group of women in this program are amazing, they've had such hard lives in many ways, but they can still maintain hope and humour. I am very privileged to get to work with them.