ᖃᓂᒪᔪᖅ - qanimajuq - sick

Well, here's a little update on us: fatigue, sore throat, ibuprofen, cough, sneeze, fever, Neocitran etc etc.

Yup, the Iqaluit germs have caught up with us this week and rendered us bedridden for several days. No exciting adventures here, unless you count emptying an entire box of Kleenex in two days a thrill!

The good news is that mine was just a cold/cough/sore throat and a few days of sleep have me feeling almost normal again. The bad news is that Josh has mono and is off work for a while until it's better. In his own words, "This sucks." Fortunately, since being off for a few days, the fevers have stopped and the swelling in his neck is slowly going down. Please pray for a speedy recovery for him and that he'll be able to do his flight training soon after getting better. 


In the meantime, we're busy practicing good hand hygeine and following doctor's orders to not swap spit. Sigh.
 

ᐅᐱᕐᖔᖅ - upirngaaq - spring

It's spring time in Iqaluit! Wahoo! Our temperatures are sitting around -5C and the sun shines about eighteen hours a day now. Even the icy wind feels warmer. Gone are the parkas, sealskin mitts and enormous boots. Bring on the winter jackets, ball caps and rubber boots.

As the snow melts, we're starting to see that Baffin island is one big sandy, rocky island. Currently, the roads and paths are mud. Josh and I frequently trip through what appears to be a frozen patch of water into ankle deep sludge. It's so hard to tell what's solid and what's not. Rubber boots honestly are a must.

One of the things I missed during the winter season was my sense of smell. It seemed that everything was too frozen to give off a smell. Even the exhaust fumes from snowmobiles seemed to disappear before I could get a sniff. Living in a smell-free world was starting to bother me. But, with the arrival of spring, new smells are slowly starting to emerge. A whiff of the salty ocean air blows by every now and again, reminding us that we live near the ocean. Yesterday I hiked along the shoreline and could smell the sweet dampness of mud and earth being warmed by the sun. It was delicious!

The bay is still frozen solid and the hunters can be seen riding all over it with their guns strapped to their backs. The boats that were frozen solid in ice are now near-victims of being washed away from the rivers of snow melt that pour down the hill into the ocean. Kids in bright rubber boots play with the hundreds of streams that have formed on the side of the road. Pot holes are being washed out and dug even deeper than last year...the water that fills them deceives drivers into thinking they're shallow. Tiny black and white snow-buntings fly in and out of the crevices of any rock face they can find. Freezie popsicles are on sale at Northmart. Frozen brown arctic grass and flowers appear from under the snow, as a promise of more warmth to come. 

Fishermen's boats are being released from their captivity

Sunset through dripping icicles

Springtime! Grass peeking out through the snow.

A reminder we live at the ocean: seaweed hanging off an ice wave.

Inukshuk overlooking the city of Iqaluit.

Muddy ice waves that are churning against the bottom of the ocean floor.

C'est moi.

ᓂᔾᔭᔪᑦ - nijjajut - music

Working full time really dampens our exploring, adventuring and blogging efforts. Nonetheless, we have made it our goal to take advantage of as many different experiences as we can during our time in Iqaluit. It is a purposeful choice that takes a little effort and a open attitude to dig out those unique opportunities that Iqaluit has to offer.

We spent this afternoon at the Francophone Center's "Happy Arts Cafe." A weekly Sunday afternoon that boasts "art, live music and pastries." Or at least that is what I could derive from its french website. What we discovered is some of Iqaluit's musical talent, from acoustic guitar to original folk music to crooning French love songs to a Juliard trained musician that reminded us of Phil Keaggy. It was such an enjoyable, relaxing atmosphere as we enjoyed our "cafe" and "brioche." We even got in on some line dancing. The cafe is open every Sunday from three to 6 pm and even serves supper. Incidentally, the Juliard musician is also an excellent chef!
 

One aspect of small town living we enjoy is meeting new people and the ease of getting to know one another here! Seriously, the big city thing of not making eye contact in public is something we don't miss at all! There is a real sense of community here, even in being 'outsiders.' It serves to show how badly we need human companionship and it's unfortunate that in bigger cities, we tend to stick to ourselves in closer knit cliques. This is a life lesson that we will take forward into our future moves; that a little community research, willingness to try new things and a kick out the door, leads to new friendships and expands our horizons in directions we never knew possible. 

ᐊᐱᓯᒪᔪᖅ - apisimajuq - snow-covered

Today I got a wonderful surprise of an opportunity to go skidoing with my friend Darlene. Her rental agreement said one rider at a time, so naturally we decided to double. The day was warm, sunny and wind-free. She had already been riding for a couple hours, so she tried taking me on the shoreline trails she had done that morning. What an exquisite view! The fresh white snow contrasted against a bright blue sky was breathtaking. The rough ice continues to crush against the shore, growing in height and form with each tide. Now, I say that she tried to take me along the shore because we sure had our work cut out for us! The sun warmed to snow to a delightful, deep slush that kept getting the sled stuck. At one point it even tipped over due to a big rut that suddenly appeared. It was only due to our sheer stubbornness at not wanting to call a man to pull it out, that we were able to get it right side up again! After getting buried while trying to ascend a steep hill, we decided to give up on the shoreline and head out on the open ocean.

Even though everything is melting on land, the elders figure the ice is still safe to be on until the next full moon. At this time, the high tide will be so extreme that it will likely start breaking apart the ice. We didn’t know when the next full moon was, but we watched at least a dozen other skidoos and dog sleds traverse the ice without falling through. So, we figured we were safe. It was the farthest either of us had been out of the ice, and what an amazing feeling that was. We were completely alone out on the middle of the ice. I still marvel that I live up here, and it still feels like outer space. It’s an absolutely exciting, fresh and untouched part of this country. With the sun sparkling against a million snow crystals, we enjoyed a Tim Horton’s donut and soaked up the spring warmth through our snow suits.  It doesn’t get much more Canadian than that!  

A polar bear skin we saw on the ride...lots of hunters out and about this time of year.

Shoreline trail

Darlene and I enjoying a beautiful day.

Rough ice on the bay

Darlene on her machine! (Josh and I live behind that big brown building on the hill.)