ᒪᕐᕋᖅ - marraq - mud

The roads are dry here. The rivers of muddy sidewalks have disappeared. Kids are wearing shorts and t-shirts. Even saw a pair of stiletto sandals the other day...worn with thick black socks. But they still count as sandals! It looks like spring has done its job and melted all the snow up the hill. The view from our apartment building overlooks the whole bay. Instead of seeing a blinding white reflection of ice and snow, we now see the dry, sandy town; a very muddy and churned up ocean shore, and white frozen ocean bay. All this surrounded by snow covered rolling hills. The view still looks like outer space, like we're at the top of the world. 


The amount of garbage the melting snow has left behind is unbelievable. The town is having a garbage pick up day soon, where all GN employees get the afternoon off to clean up the great outdoors. And with good reason. This place is a mess. It is interesting to walk along the shore and see all the boating equipment that has been uncovered by the warm sun. Big ocean faring fishing boats precariously perched on wooden blocks sit next to snowmobiles and qamituks. 


The sea ice that we have been fascinated with has churned up against the ocean floor in its thaw and is a frozen muddy wasteland. It is interesting to walk on, because it is still 3 to five feet thick and yet there are huge cracks running through it that reveal a river of rushing water underneath. The hunters and fishermen are still going out on the bay with their snowmobiles and equipment. I wonder how long that will last. Apparently this has been a warm spring in Iqaluit and normally May and June are peak snowmobiling season. But this year, the snow is almost completely melted off the land. 


As the snow receeds, we are finding meadows of brown grass lie waiting to turn green. Rock fields of silver grey stones scattered across hillsides, giving us stepping stones as we climb to the top. Rough sandy streams burst with spring run off water, sparkling against the snow that remains on their shores. Tiny beet-purple sprouts of arctic flowers peek out from the leeward side of rocks. Kids dressed in bright rubber boots play and laugh for hours in the sunshine and sandy playgrounds. I think the beauty of Nunavut will continue to reveal itself in a rugged, natural way as spring progressess and summer brings the land to life. 

Joc sitting on the ocean floor

The ice waves are melting

Hunters with their snowmobile and qamituk

Our view

Boats scattered everywhere

Looking out onto the frozen ocean

Melting rivers cut through the sea ice

A pile of dead frozen seals, used as dog food for the sled dogs

Sled dog puppies!!!

All the dogs are off the sea ice now

ᐊᖅᑯᑦ - aqqut - street

The Road to Nowhere is an actual road in Iqaluit that heads north out of town and goes nowhere...it just kind of trails off in the tundra. It has gained some notoriety as a popular tourist spot in town. Originally, it was built to lead to a new dump site but then the city planners realized that perhaps having the dump overlook the city wasn't a great idea. And so the road leads ... to nowhere.

The Road to Nowhere does have a street sign that is continually being stolen despite being replaced again and again. Now, the city just doesn't replace the sign. So, Darlene had a great idea to make our own Road to Nowhere sign and take the must have tourist picture with it. A little spray paint, letter stencils and creative cutting lead to our creation. It was a proud moment to add our sign to the signpost.Now that our sign is made and hanging on the signpost, we'll wait and see how long it takes before it is stolen.

Our sign with a photo of the original sign

Darlene's hitchhiking on the Road to Nowhere

So am I

A true tourist shot

The girls from work had to check it out too

Of course, we had to sign our names!

ᐃᖃᓗᒥᓂᖅ - iqaluminiq - fish (dead, for eating)

Last week, I found a little store called "Iqaluit Enterprises Ltd.: Smoked Arctic Char and Northern Seafoods." It's a store that sells seal, Arctic char and whatever other seafood that the fishermen up island catch.They had char steaks and fillets, hunks of seal and whole char. Josh and I thought it would be fun to buy a fish and make something with it! Thanks to the Iqaluit Recipe swap, we found a delicious recipe for Arctic Char Chowder and Oven Baked Bannock. Gutting, deboning and skinning that fish was an adventure in itself, since all the knives we have are dull. It looked like a massacre! But in the end, we had a delicious chowder simmering on the stove while bannock baked in the oven. Yum! Darlene and Tracy (nurses I work with) were brave enough to come over and enjoy it with us. And yes, the meal did start with the disclaimer, "We think we have removed all the bones, but in case we missed one and you choke, we're all medical professionals at this table....and we'll save you."

Fish thawing in the tub ("...all drains lead to the ocean" - Finding Nemo)

This 23 inch char was the smallest one in the freezer, cost $35.88.

Let the massacre begin!

 Char Chowder soup

Bannock

Recipes....

Anna Qaunaq's Char/Chowder Soup

1 arctic char

2 cans of mushroom campbell soup

milk

1 can of drained baby clams

2 medium potatoes

2 carrots* (optional)

2 tsp tobasco sauce

salt and pepper

cut up char into stakes and boil in salted water about 1/2 hour.

in the mean time, peel potatoes *carrots and dice.

take char out and remove skin and bones, put into a separate pot, add mushroom soup, stir to make fish into flakes, add 2 full cans of milk using mushroom soup cans and add 1 1/2 can or 2 cans of water, its at your discretion how thick you want your soup.

add potatoes, *carrots, drained baby clams, 2 tsp tobasco sauce, corn, salt and pepper

cook stove top at medium heat 1/2 to 45 minutes, or until the potatoes/*carrots are done.

Excellent with baked bannok.

Optional: you can add any type of seafood into pot and create your own arctic char seafood stew!  

Ruth Kadlutsiak's Oven Baked Bannock

4 cups flour  2 tbsp. baking powder  1 tsp. salt  1 cup lard, melted  2 1/4 cups milk

1. Mix flour, baking powder and salt in a large mixing bowl.

2. In a small saucepan, melt lard. Pour 1/2 cup melted lard into a 9" square baking pan.

3. Pour milk into the remaining 1/2 cup lard in the saucepan. It will sizzle a little. Heat just until warm.

4. Pour lard and milk into flour mixture and stir quickly, just until blended.

5. Spread batter gently in the prepared pan. Dip your fingers in the melted lard to prevent the dough from sticking to you.

6. Bake at 450 F (230 C) fro 20-30 minutes. Turn out of pan and cut into squares to serve. Serve warm or cold.

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.)