ᐃᓚᒌᑦ - ilagiit - family (part 2)

We spent a fun, fast day on quads and got to see every corner of Iqaluit...Apex, Road to Nowhere, the causeway and way up river. It was Mom's first time on a quad and man, she's a wild woman! :) Apex has a beautiful, quiet bay that is home to the Hudson's Bay buildings, where the Inuit used to trade with European explorers. The Road to Nowhere is a taste of the wide open tundra, with nothing visible for miles and miles. The causeway is where the Sylvia Grinnell River meets the ocean and is a favorite camping/fishing spot for Iqaluimiut in the summer. Our trek up river led us to muddy, rocky trails that extend along the runway and beyond to secret camping spots.

River view with seating for three

Fearing for my life!!! (Haha, just kidding Mom)

Quadding out on the Road to Nowhere...which we discovered, truly leads nowhere

Exploring the tundra out by the airport

Checking out the old Hudson's Bay buildings at Apex

We learned a lot about the narwahl. They are arctic whales that grow a long tooth out of their nose. No one really know the purpose of the tooth, but they are valued at about $100/foot. They are also used in Inuit art. Our trip to the fisherman's freezer found some fresh narwahl from Arctic Bay. Naturally, we had to try it. The fisherman explained that the skin and the blubber are separated by a tough, cartilage-like layer. You're supposed to use your ulu and cut the skin or blubber into "tooth size" pieces and enjoy it raw. This proved to be more difficult than we expected, since our knives are quite dull and we don't have an ulu. Scissors did the trick and we all sampled the raw narwahl. The blubber tasted like chewy lard and literally fell out of my mouth twice because it's so slippery. The narwahl skin had the texture of tofu and mushrooms. We honestly can't describe the taste, other than to say, "It tastes like whale." It's not fishy, not gross, just whale. After sampling the raw whale, we boiled it into soup and enjoyed it with fresh bannock. 

This is what the skin of a narwahl looks like...they range in color from white to black and everything in between

Trying to cut the skin and blubber apart "properly"

The whole reason we're out here is to work. Mom was proud to see the plane that Josh is currently flying and learn all about the ins and outs of the Dornier. He sure has upgraded since his Fisher Price toy airplane. She also got to see where I spend most of my time and even got to meet the newest Inuit in Nunavut!

Dornier at sunset

Josh showing Mom his new ride

After a tour of the hospital, Mom got to cuddle a 2 hour old newborn. So cute!

Awesome art on the side of the hospital

Thanks for coming to visit Mom!!!

ᐃᓚᒌᑦ - ilagiit - family

We had our very first visitor come visit us in Iqaluit! Josh's mom, Valerie, made the trek to the north and spent a week with us. We had such a fun time exploring Iqaluit together and sharing our experiences with family from home. It was great to see her and it makes us wish everyone could come visit. 

Josh and Valerie overlooking the town and ocean

Enjoying the view at Sylvia Grinnell Park

Happy to have days off to share with Mom

We found some candled ice, still frozen, despite the fact that it's July

The mosquitoes bit my lip :(

We tried fishing...it didn't go well and we lost both our hooks

The falls along the Sylvia Grinnell River

Meeting a walrus at the visitor's center

The only polar bear we saw ... at the Visitor's Center

Drum dancer carving

ᐃᖅᑲᓇᐃᔮᒃᑯᑦ ᐊᐅᓪᓚᐸᑉᐱᑦ? - iqqanaijaakkut aullapappit?- Do you travel with your work?

Josh's career allows him to explore all of Baffin Island. Right now he's flying mostly to Mary River predominately a mining camp but there are also archeologists, geologists, enviromentalists and other researchers interested in the area there. He also travels into surrounding communities like Igloolik, Pond Inlet, Miline, Kimmirut and Clyde River. Future tours involve visiting old DND DEW line sites. The topography of Baffin is very rocky and mountainous. But the mountains are nothing like the Rockies. From the air, Baffin Island looks like a stippled ceiling, with rugged peaks and valleys with the highest terrain on the Eastern edge of the Island. Large rivers cut in between mountain passes and plateaus while glaciers cling to the basins of hollowed out rock. The reality that it is impossible to drive from community to community is made visible by the impassable land 10 000 feet below. 

Sea ice near Pond Inlet - the darker patches of ice are from a season past and will melt first this year.

The Dornier cutting between mountain passes to the runway at Pond Inlet

Gravel strip at Pond Inlet, you can see the mountains in the distance

Flying through the clouds

 A few weekends ago, I got to tag along on a flight to Goose Bay, Labrador. The pilots had to drop off a mechanic and parts to some company planes there. We left Iqaluit at 6 pm in broad daylight. The sky was quite clear, revealing how desolate we are up here. There was no signs of life for miles and miles. As we crossed the ocean between Baffin and northern Quebec, icebergs were floating along the strait. Hard to believe that in the winter, it is frozen ice. Northern Quebec proved to be just as dramatic, with exquisite peaks, valleys, rivers and glaciers. As we flew south, darkness surrounded us. We landed in Goose Bay to the pitch black night and humid warm air. What a change from Iqaluit. This is the first time we've been in such a dark night for months. After dropping off our load, we headed north again and left the dark behind. As we were leaving northern Quebec, an unwavering pinky-orange smoulder began to grow on the horizon as we flew closer and closer to Baffin. It wasn't a true sunrise, because the sun had never set in Nunavut. The reflection of the light off the clouds was beautiful and peaceful and my camera really doesn't do it justice. We arrived back into Iqaluit at 3:30 a.m. in broad daylight.

Miles of untouched land

A few remaining icebergs between Baffin and northern Quebec

Beautiful colors reflecting on the clouds

Cotton candy clouds

Leaving darkness and heading into the light

Josh flying

This is home

ᐃᒪᐅᑉ ᓯᓈ - imaup sinaa - seashore

I think of new things to share every time I look at these pictures. This set of photos is a brief random collection of my walk along the ocean shore...the Apex trail (which is my favorite) and the causeway. These were taken the beginning of July when the sun was warm and the bugs were few. The rugged aloneness and peace of observing this untouched piece of earth was relaxing and refreshing. I'm neither a writer nor a photographer, but I want to try and remember every aspect of life here. To forget the value of this simple, slowed down lifestyle would be the loss of an important lesson as we start to think about re-entering southern life.

At low tide, the boats settle onto the ocean floor and await the return of the water.

Small beach shacks litter the shoreline. They are so rundown and weathered by the harsh winters, but remain functional as storage and housing in the warm summer months.

My pale, chilly toes. The first and only day I've worn flip flops in the summer of 2011.

Josh checking out the melting sea ice after his return from Yellowknife.

My favorite: water and sunshine.

Iqaluit graveyard. Faded cloth flowers accent the wooden crosses. For the first time in my nursing career, I can visit the gravesite of patients who I have cared for. I appreciate this honor to return my respects to the Inuit elders who struggled to maintain their culture and to reflect on the effects of change on the younger generations of Inuit. The future is daunting for these people.

This caught my eye after a week of admitting several teenagers with suicide attempts. It seems that the first reaction to a fight with mom, a break up with a boyfriend or grieving the loss of a family member is "I want to kill myself." Sadly, too many succeed. I'm sure our emergency personnel can attest to the violent, abusive homes that the majority of Nunavut lives in. Somehow, coping skills have not been developed within this culture. Or perhaps they have become too broken, too destroyed, too dysfunctional to be effective. I wish I could find the person who wrote this sentence, and share what they learned with the other hopeless, hurting kids here. To encourage someone when they have no hope, no help and no predictable future is so difficult.

I have a thing for Inukshuks. It's not just that they're a cool northern stereotype. It's what they symbolize; that you're not alone, that someone else has passed this way before. It's a sign of friendship and hope, that someone took the time to build this rocky greeting to direct and encourage you.

ᐅᕙᑦᑎᓃᑦᑐᖓ - uvattiniittunga - my place

The sea ice melted early this year. Normally it doesn't leave until the end of July. This year, it disappeared in June. Eager boaters had to hurry to get their boats sea worthy. One day, the bay was full of miniature ice bergs and the next morning they'd all been blown away by a strong north wind. The more the ice melts, the more obvious it is that we live at the ocean's shore.

A pair of Inukshuks

Chunky sea ice

You can see the sea ice retreating from the bay

Sandy shore still partially covered with ice

Inlet where the ocean meets the river. Fishermen are already testing the waters.

Seal skin parka that my friend's sister made for her. Beautifully made!

Another ocean shot of retreating sea ice

Ocean kayaking...looks like fun, but oh the cold if you fall in!