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1 travelers at this place

  • Day454

    An actual Visitor---A human one!

    December 8, 2018 in Canada ⋅ ⛅ -26 °C

    Last week I had the great privilege of hosting my first visitor to Igloolik. My cousin, who was born and raised in Atlanta, Georgia, where peaches and pecans sell on the side of the road, braved the cold and Journeyed to the North. I capitalize "journey" because as anyone that has traveled further north than Iqaluit knows, it is always a Journey with a capital J. lol.

    After traveling from Atlanta to Ottawa by way of Philadelphia and Toronto, he spent the night at the airport and then got the dismaying news that he would be spending an extra day in Ottawa. The jet had a dent in it. Apparently. Boeing said it was too big to fly safely. So, my cousin got his bag, hotel voucher, and left the airport. He put on his tourist hat and ventured to Parliament Hill in Ottawa and joined a tour to learn about Canadian governance and history. He had his first shawarma, a delicious wrap not unlike a gyro but yummier that originates from Lebanon. If you like garlic, you will like shawarma! He learned about the canal that runs through Ottawa and freezes in the winter providing an ice rink for all to enjoy.

    The next day, he tried again and experienced his first flight in which you walk out onto the tarmac, to board the plane...from the back. The front of the jet coming from Ottawa to Iqaluit is for cargo. The lack of roads or rail leaves only the planes to bring everything that is necessary to support thousands of people. Once in Iqaluit, he once again, walked across the tarmac to the 1-yr old new airport. There, he managed to not get lost in the 6 whole gates of the airport. The final leg of the journey is on a twin prop, 18 passenger plane sitting out on the tarmac.

    He boarded the plane that had been sitting, unheated on the tarmac for hours, and learned how cold a plane can get! Turns out it's a metal tube! Two hours later, a brief stopover in Hall Beach allowed him to see a town even smaller than Igloolik. Hall Beach is our neighbor with 800 residents that is reachable by skidoo during the winter on the sea ice with a 1.5-2hr ride. My cousin saw the one-room airport with baggage carousel that is a sheet of metal angled down so when the airline employee shoves the bags through a baggage door, the bags slide down the metal slide.

    Then, it was short 15 min flight to Igloolik. I picked him up and showed him the town which he remarked seemed bigger than he expected. Over the next days, we walked and experienced the shock and awe of grocery prices, of walking on sea ice, of realizing the sun was not going to crest over the horizon.

    He saw me gather and prepare dinner at 3pm because it felt later. He had his eyelashes frozen and frosted all of his clothing. He got to shovel snow for the first time as we unburied the qamatik that was going to be pulled behind a skidoo so we could out for a ride around the land. It turned out to be too windy for a good ride, so my cousin got his own personal chauffeured ride on the back of a friend's skidoo.

    He got to buy a local carved narwhal made from caribou antler. Great find since he'd been wanting one of those. He got to visit my work and see animal specimens that he may never get (or want) to see again. lol.

    We played bingo over the radio and lost. We went to a party and he wowed everyone with his knowledge of Nunavut and Inuktitut. I had no idea how he knew all that he did. He said he just read the magazines and talked to the people next to him on the plane. I mean, he came in rattling off towns like Pangnirtung and Qikiqtarjuaq while explained the pronunciation of Inuktitut letters. It was hilarious.

    We threw hot water in the air and watched it vaporize. We did this particular exercise at least 5 times. We saw great Northern Lights and he was shocked to learn (as we all are) that I live too far north for the best Northern Lights. (I personally think that is one of the best things to say to convey to someone just how far north Igloolik is----"well, to see the Northern Lights, we have to look South." bahahaha)

    He got to feel -40 with the we stood out there trying to take pictures of those Northern Lights. He quickly shifted to choosing the parka when the windchills got past -35C. He remarked as well that with the proper clothes, it is not bad. It is only bad for long periods of time or for exposed skin----it's not that my hands haven't been cold before---it just usually takes longer than 10 seconds.

    I am so lucky to have been able to share this with my family. A trip like this is not feasible for most and to have the stars align so that he could come was very cool.

    And of course the Journey couldn't be complete without a little leaving drama. His exit flight out of Igloolik was cancelled 5 days in advance. The auxiliary power unit that starts the planes after they've shut down in cold temps broke in the town north of us. Thus, no plane could leave there. My cousin's flights were canceled for 4 days. I guess that's the time it takes to get a replacement sent up. Rather than bank on the fact that they might or might not get the power unit replaced, I immediately booked him on the only other airline that serves here (though those airlines just merged a few months ago so after January, we will only have one airline----what could go wrong---nothing bad gonna happen with that situation. Sigh). We drove to the airport in somewhat foggy conditions not knowing if the plane would make it out. The plane was fully booked. They landed in Igloolik and my cousin safely left in a fuzzy, dusky morning.
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  • Day483

    How not to volunteer

    January 6, 2019 in Canada ⋅ 🌬 -27 °C

    Christmas was surprisingly tolerable by myself, largely because I wasn't by myself. My family and friends made sure of that! I spent a lot of time on the phone and messaging while also bee-bopping to various gatherings at other people's houses that decided to stay through the holidays.
    I also saw a post on the town's facebook page asking for volunteers to help put together the food and toy hampers for needy families and children on Christmas Eve. I thought, "that will be a perfect way to congratulate myself for being a great and caring human while investing little to no time. Perfect!" So, on Christmas Eve I showed up at the elementary gym at the facebook-indicated time and discovered that my little idea of showing up for, ummmm, maybe a half-hour, was sorely wrong.
    There was a TON of stuff that needed to be sorted and arranged and prepared into the gift bags for each of the 900 children on a list that the organizers had. 0_o 900?! The town's population is only 1,500! Holy moly. After about 3 hours of doing more activity than I've done in months, I left to have lunch. When I returned, the food had arrived which was donated by private individuals, companies and groups. Four hundred 20 lb turkeys. Enough so every household in Igloolik could have a turkey dinner. Do you know what 400 turkeys looks like laid out in a school gym? We were like the images you see of volunteers passing sandbags to shore up homes and towns against rising floodwaters. Potatoes were unloaded off pickup trucks in 50lb bags. Turkeys were offloaded in 60-80 lb boxes. Stuffing, cranberry sauce, and rice came in. It was incredible. When I stopped to think about it, it became more incredible given our location.
    The food drive is sponsored by a not-for-profit organization called "Feed Nunavut". Their objective is to ease food insecurity in the North. Surveys find that a full 70% of Northern families skip a meal at least once per month. This organization spotlights every year a few projects to focus donations on for folks wanting to do that sort of thing. Igloolik's holiday food and toy drive is one such project. Most of the toys and gifts came from Southern Canada donations and even a few United States donations as well. But what is impressive is that for the food, people give money and then someone here in Igloolik has to figure out how to buy the food in Ottawa, get it shipped here, pick it up at the airport, store it somewhere, and then bring it to the gym. This is a feat anywhere, but in Igloolik!! Even more so. A company started here in Igloolik, Arctic Fresh, donated their money, time, and resources. They bought the turkeys at cost in Ottawa and stored them in their warehouse in Ottawa. Then, the airlines of Canadian North and First Air (not sure which one donated) donated, or heavily discounted the freight up here. I mean, can you imagine the cost to ship 8,000 lbs of turkeys? It costs $500 to ship 100lbs down south.
    More volunteers met the freight at the airport and unloaded all those potatoes, turkeys, stuffing, etc, by hand. BY HAND. Then, stored it and unloaded it again at the gym where volunteers started putting together the fixins for the turkey dinner. They laid out a turkey every 1-2ft in the gym and then a bag of potatoes which had been prepared by the volunteers divvying up the larger 50lb bags of potatoes. Stuffing and other fixings came next. Finally, there were supposed to be mandarin oranges.
    Ah, the mandarin oranges....such a nice gesture.....if they hadn't been right at their expiration and rotten! One of the volunteers discovered that many of the donated boxes of mandarins were terribly rotten, to the point that the boxes were sometimes leaking putrefied orange juice. Someone in charge made the decision that we could not, in good conscience, give these rotten things to people. So, we had to go through, by hand, every single box and separate the good oranges from the bad. Wow. Tedious. Let me offer some unsolicited advice: when volunteering, do not open the box of oranges. Assume they are good and be secure in your altruism and holiness. Otherwise, you will spend hours hunkered over fruit trying to not put your fingers through one more rotten orange and sneeze from the aerosolizing mold.
    Finally, all the dinners had to be bagged or boxed for delivery. The hamlet agreed to allow their school bus to be driven around for deliveries and the school bus driver volunteered to spend his Christmas Eve driving around house to house.
    It was impressive to see all the work and time that went into the whole operation. I gave up the ghost at 5:30pm and returned home with achy feet and a very tired back. I was sore for 3 days. I laughed at my grand plan to feel good about myself backfiring when I actually had to work. I should have just donated money and stayed on the couch. That's a smarter move. That's your second lesson ladies and gentlemen. First lesson is: no mandarin oranges. Second: write a check.
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  • Day545

    Greasy bones mess up labeling

    March 9, 2019 in Canada ⋅ ☀️ -28 °C

    Before we begin, please allow me to share the good news that my toilet and plumbing have been working with perfection since I last wrote. Yep, turns out getting to the cause of a problem rather than just treating the symptom gets you a consistently flushing toilet!

    Currently at work, there is actually almost a full complement of staff in our group. This is practically unprecedented. It has been fantastic for allowing the jobs and tasks to be done properly. It also has allowed me time to try and work backwards and try to address some of the shambles. It's clear that previous staff were doing their best, but with limited capacity, it is not physically possible to do the job fully. We all know this. Put out the fire and leave the building a wreck.

    Once such shamble relates to bacula. Improperly boiled penis bones, like any bone, seeps oil and grease over time. All those bones at the museums we've all seen are the product of meticulous, tedious boiling/macerating/cleaning/etc. It's not an easy task. So yesterday, I walk in and pull out a big plastic bag of greasy bacula from the "f**cked up" box. Yes, we have a box for all the f**k ups no one knows what to do with. I ask what the deal is and I'm told that the markings identifying the individual bear that the bone belongs to was not properly written on the baculum and thus, got smudged off with the ensuing greasiness. Now, the task is to take each of these bacula and examine them under a microscope to see if we can make out any faint, etched ID marks. Huh. That is what my life is now? Taking greasy penis bones and examining them under microscopes. Cool.

    You just never know what type of "problems" have to be solved here.

    For the last couple months, we've had a student intern. She is in college for biotechnology and it is solely designed to teach students all lab procedures, equipment, and assays so they can go get a job in a lab anywhere doing most anything. She wanted to come North and cut up teeth to try and age animals. Part of her work has been helping me establish a repeatable, understandable process for inventorying extra teeth. Typically, only 1 tooth is necessary to get an age. But, we ask for 2 because sometimes 1 breaks, etc. Teeth also have dental ligament tissue surrounding them that we've purposefully left on. This is because if an animal is harvested but there is no tissue available to run DNA for identity, the dental ligament could work. So, our student has been pulling off hundreds of old, sometimes rotted, tooth ligament tissue from individual teeth. I walk in the lab and it smells of death. She looks up and grins with a pair of pliers in one hand. "This is SO fun!" she exclaims. "But, I think I have rotted tissue on my sweater cause it sometimes flicks off. But that's okay!"
    Huh. Okay cool. I walk out again.

    Rotted teeth tissue. Greasy bones. I think I'll go run stats.
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  • Day519

    Toilet travails

    February 11, 2019 in Canada ⋅ ⛅ -33 °C

    It's been a while since I posted and quite frankly, it's because I've been in a sour mood. Why, you wonder? Well, dear readers, allow me to oblige you....

    Toilet troubles.

    That's why.

    Nothing will make me want to leave, quit, fight, burn the house down more than a consistent, unresolved, non-functioning sewer system.

    It started back in January shortly after the New Year. January 6th to be precise. I knew something was odd before then because the toilet wasn't flushing normally. Then, no flush. Frozen. I left the 9th with a toilet that still wasn't functioning.

    I returned on the 21st to a semi-functioning toilet. One that would burble, gurgle, and erupt like a geyser upon flushing. Yep, that's neat. But don't worry, I was told this was normal because they removed a vent pipe. Again, that's neat.

    Typically, the pipes here have a heat trace line that runs alongside them then a thick layer of insulation around them both. Finally, the pipes and insulation are boxed in by plywood. Well, when they "fixed" my pipes, they didn't bother to reinsulate or box the pipes back in. I bet you can guess what happened next!

    Pipes stopped working at all a few days after I returned on the 21st. I did not have functioning toilet until January 31st. It was a damn damn good thing they started working that day because at 5am in the morning, I awoke with a fierce stomach virus. It was brutal. My body expelled all its stomach and intestinal contents violently until there was nothing but bare bags and tubes of organs inside. I have never been so grateful for a functioning toilet as then and I was so scared every time I'd hurl from one end or the other that that flush would be the toilet's last.

    The toilet worked for Feb 1 and 2. I left the morning of the 3rd, still nursing a wounded digestive system (for supreme fun--have a stomach virus and take 4 flights back to back to back to back from Igloolik to Edmonton for 12 hours with no time to stop at an airport bathroom).

    I have just returned from Edmonton last night. I got two flushes in. The third failed. I have no working toilet again. Despite a call to the emergency line, no one came today from the Housing Corp, whose responsibility it is to keep these units working. They didn't call, they didn't leave a note, nothing. Nothing.

    I may burn the whole place down.
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  • Day636

    Do you Seal what I See?

    June 8, 2019 in Canada ⋅ ⛅ 2 °C

    The summer melt is full upon us here in Igoolik and with it brings much surprises at what lay underneath that obscuring blanket of snow for 8 months. Lots of pooled water that the kids absolutely love. Sometimes makes getting from your front door to some dry land a bit tricky. Rubber boot season.
    Where the snow is gone and the water is gone, we’re left with mostly trash underneath, unfortunately. The snow acts a great eraser. The 8 months of winter creates a giant layer cake with snow layers alternating with trash layers. It’s extremely effective. During the winter, the town landscape appears pristine. The ugly reality of non-degrading objects becomes painfully obvious at this time of year. I think the contrast between the impossible cleanliness the snow imparts and the accumulation of 8 months of dumping is what makes the change seem so stark. There is everything from dirty diapers to snowmobile parts. From the banal cigarette butts to the shocking dog carcasses. My pictures on here show a full seal just chilling in the trash. Looks perfectly edible to me. Not sure why it was there. It’s like the curtain got pulled back from the Wizard.
    Every year the community organizes a clean-up and there is good participation. Last year, the person that collected the most cigarette butts received quite a monetary reward—can’t remember how much, but it was probably pretty good because the monetary rewards/incentives here are usually pretty darn good. Unfortunately, the clean-up has to wait until the snow has all melted and the pooling lakes and mud have dried.
    This isn’t aimed at being negative about the town. It is a fact. There are no municipal services that clean the streets or remove general waste and garbage other than what is in the plywood garbage bins outside each house. In a place where you can’t go to the local home hardware store or Ski-Doo parts store to get things, many people’s land surrounding their home looks like a junk yard. Broken and discarded objects of any type you can imagine are there, just waiting for the time that a throttle cable is needed or a 2 inch hex head bolt. You never know.
    It makes me think of 2 things: 1. The unsung work of municipal/city works that keep your cities and neighborhoods looking clean is like a mother running the household behind the scenes making sure everything runs smoothly without ever getting the credit she deserves. And 2. The impact humans have on the landscape when we live in a place. I had a coworker that went to Myanmar during the Rohingya refugee crisis. He went there not to provide aid to the people or help the people live, but to assess the dramatic impact the almost instantaneous flood of 400,000 people had into an area with no infrastructure. The refugees had to dig latrines and wells. They dug them very close to one another because, well, that is convenient and there are no codes/bylaws. The refugees need fuel to cook with and heat their shacks with so they cut the surrounding forest to nothing. Mudslides ensued---Onto the refugee camps. It was an aspect of human inhabitation that I never really paid much attention to, and definitely not one I thought about in terms of an unplanned, inundation of people into an area.
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  • Day64

    Hallelujah for humidifier

    November 13, 2017 in Canada ⋅ ⛅ -22 °C

    I am beyond excited. My humidifier arrived today! I think I'm going to set her up on my bedside table and stare lovingly into the mist as it soothes my aching nose to sleep. The say absence makes the heart grow fonder and I believe this should be applied to inanimate objects as well, not just relationships. Take the humidifier for example. I did not have one. My nose and throat have been aching for weeks. It's been awful. I can't simply go peruse various shopping establishments to get one. I order it and have to wait for almost two weeks. Then, it arrives but the store closes at 6pm and I arrived by plane at 540. Was not able to make it. The next day was Remembrance Day (Veteran's Day) so the store was closed. The next day was Sunday so the post office was closed. FINALLY, TODAY was the day to get my precious package!! There she was, tiny yet powerful. I am so tired of blowing bloody pieces from my nose. It just isn't right! I'm tired of sleeping with the sheets over my face and dry coughing throughout the night. I faced this similar stuff in Mongolia, but I was only there for a month so I could deal. If this humidifier is broken for some reason, I will most definitely be crying...real tears.

    That's it folks. That's my life. Revolves around getting a humidifier at the post office. I mean I did grab a few other grocery items, but as usual, there were key missing ones like creamer. That stuff is rare---always empty on the shelves. I'm going to have to buy them out the next time it's in. They did have milk so that will have to do.

    I braved a -36C (-33F) windchill to get my mighty mucous membrane healer. I was fortunate however, to catch a ride to the store from my boss cause he was going to the post office as well. Apparently, it was too cold for his ATV to start so he had to clear off and start the snowmobile. He says and I quote, "Fuck it's cold!" I take in the fact that he has goggles and a face protector on while he says this. I instantly recoil and think, "Nope, I can't go outside. If this crazy arctic person thinks it's cold, I will certainly die." But then, I think of my humidifier and I think of all the other people that manage to survive this....and I pull on my mitts and hop on the back!

    My boss also tells me that he hopes the snowmobile stays running because he has warm weather spark plugs in it?? Whaaaa?? Does anyone know what that means? Are there different spark plugs for warm and cold weather?? Is the gap different? I don't know anything about this. In this instance, the snowmobile did great, got our packages, hunkered down hiding from the wind, and made it back home in less than 20 min. I'm gonna have to get some sort of motorized transport. I am far too lazy to keep up this walking nonsense and lord knows I ain't biking!!
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  • Day82


    December 1, 2017 in Canada ⋅ ⛅ -14 °C

    And so the addiction begins…with a little taste of winning glory…..

    The plan was to corrupt, I mean introduce, another coworker to bingo last Friday. He’d never played, is up here alone, and he seems to have an open attitude so I thought it would be fun. My boss agreed to host us and so it was set. Well, the newcomer backed out and, on autopilot, I still found myself walking to the radio station to get a bingo card. It wasn’t until I was walking home that I thought, “Why did I buy this? I am tired and the only reason I was gonna play this week was to show my coworker.” Oh well, if you have a card, you gotta play!

    This week it was different. The bingo caller was a native English speaker and was calling in English. However, she was going WAY too fast and I was getting irritated. She was taking all the fun out of the dobbing experience. I couldn’t even rearrange myself in my seat much less take a drink before she was on to the next number. I decided I needed to call the radio station and tell her to slow down. That’s when we realized we didn’t have the number for the radio station; the number listed in the phone book did not dial to the station. Hmmmm…..I scour all 200 entries for Igloolik backwards and forwards. In this town, you can literally read each and every entry in the phone book! Lol. I found nothing. I was getting very agitated now because my boss was having to do both my card and his while I was fiddling with the phone book. Now, I don’t want to say anything bad about his bingo skills since he was kind enough to take over, but let’s just say, missing numbers is not unheard of on his cards. Finally, we both got the idea at the same time to randomly call another coworker and ask for the radio station’s number…cause of course we can find HIS number in the phone book but not the radio station’s. So that is what I did…called him, out of the blue, slightly frantic and explained that I needed the radio station number so I could ask the caller to slow down bingo. Isn’t that what you did last Friday night? Sure enough, he recited the number from memory off the top of his head and I made my call just as the last game was starting. The last game is the Jackpot round where you have to dob all of the numbers on the bingo sheet to win.
    The caller had slowed down. It was much more relaxing. I even had time to check over my numbers and take a sip of my drink every so often. As the game continued, I noticed that one of my cards was getting full so I double-checked to make sure I hadn’t missed any numbers. Sure enough, I had and that left me with only 2 empty spaces. The caller called the next number and it was one of mine. I was down to one. Never happens. Sure enough, the next number wasn’t mine and I knew I had lost because if I’M down to one space then someone, somewhere else, has been down to one space for probably several rounds. But, lo and behold no one called in and when the caller called the next number, my mouth actually dropped open. I stared at my now completely covered bingo card in disbelief. I looked at my boss and his mouth was kinda gaping too with a look of “is this for real?!” I echoed his thoughts and said, “Holy shit, is this for real??!!!” “Oh my god! I’ve got a bingo!! I gotta call the station! Thank god I persevered to find the number earlier!!!” I was shaking and nervous because you have to call in and the whole town can hear you saying your numbers. What if I was wrong?? I was gonna sound like such an idiot. I called all of them and it was a good bingo! I won the JACKPOT! They told me to come down to the station to pick up my winnings and I hung up. Immediately, I began jumping up and down and whooping. You see, this jackpot was no measly $20. No my friends. I was the sole winner of TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS!!!! Two grand! Can you believe that??!! My god! That’s serious money. I screamed at my boss, “Go start your ATV, I gotta go get my money!”
    He was driving a bit fast and loose over to the station for my liking and I yelled to not murder me on my big win night. To which he replied, “Oh no, definitely not, I’m gonna wait until you have the money in hand.” Hahaha.
    My winnings were disbursed in all 20 dollar bills. Has anyone actually carried around 2 grand in 20’s? It’s um, how shall I say, very rapper-esque. I felt like I need to have some gold chains on my neck and a rubber band in my pocket to hold my bank. Hilarious.
    The JACKPOT I say! I still can’t believe it.
    I promptly sent my coworker that decided not to play a text message explaining how he’d missed out big time on bingo night. Now we’ll never win anything again.
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  • Day45

    Now I understand winter goggles...

    October 25, 2017 in Canada ⋅ ☀️ 33 °C

    Today I laughed out loud as I trudged to work. I laughed because of the ridiculousness of it all. Here I am slipping and sliding through snow and drifts created by the blizzard, which incidentally caused the entire city and government offices to shut down at lunch on Monday, thinking about how I came to be here. The wind was blowing this morning and blasting the small ice kernels right into my face and eyes. I pulled the fur closer to my face to stop the crystals from making it through so I could peer out through the fur. It turns out that in the flat light of a blizzard coupled with the time of day being pre-dawn, it is VERY hard to discern the features of the snow. I couldn't see whether the snow was raised or dipped, crusted or powder, plowed or not. Makes for even more fun walking...into the wind. It was at that moment, while walking into the wind that I just started laughing....and then I quickly stopped because that wind will hurt your damn teeth!

    Vehicles are not having an easy time of it. Yesterday, a pickup was fully engulfed in a ditch...up to it's roof (not hood, roof). Obviously, they didn't know where the edge of the road was and oops, went in the biggest ditch in town. My morning walk was filled with the sounds of spinning tires. Tonight, I tried to help dig out my neighbors who just happened to have moved from the next town over from me in BC! They've been here about 3 months and the husband does not seem to be in good spirits. Well, I don't really blame him because they gave them vehicles with no 4-wheel drive....or a tow rope. Yep, not too bright. They are priority government employees that need to be responsive and they were issued regular ole, run-about-town small SUVs. lolol.

    On the plus side, I got a ride home today from work on a snowmobile. Actually, I got a ride home at lunch too and learned that one does not ride a snowmobile without snow pants. The complete wetting of my entire lower posterior body in 5 minutes taught me that. The snow was crusted on my jeans on the front. Fool me once.....and the snow pants were on.

    Yesterday, the main store was only accepting cash for several hours. These are things that happen up here that are not really common down south.

    I don't know if I've mentioned it yet, but there are many artists in town. Apparently, Igloolik (among other hamlets) is known for producing a lot of artists. Carvers mostly. They come door to door selling their wares. They come several times per week. Sometimes more than one in a night. You get to where you just don't answer the door if you are not interested. It is easier that way. Well, when I first arrived, I saw a carving of a polar bear that balanced separately on each of his legs. It was really cool. That carver came to my door last week with a 2-way standing bear that was much smaller and cheaper than the 4-way standing bear. On the sides are carved a narwhal and walrus. Three animals in one! Last night, the carver approached me again and I bought my first Igloolik carving. It's pretty cute and I am pretty sure I now know what everyone is getting for Christmas!! I know!! Hold your excitement....chotchsky (sp?) from a place you're never gonna visit!

    We are also losing an hour of daylight a week now. In one month, we will begin the 24 hr of darkness.

    Oh, and did I mention that my other neighbors have children that are training to be long-distance runners? Yep, they train nightly by running back and forth, back and forth in the apartment for hours. They intersperse their running with jumping (presumably to build power). I know all of this because their dedication vibrates through my house and shakes me as I sit on the couch.
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  • Day72

    Fall in Igloolik

    November 21, 2017 in Canada ⋅ ⛅ 9 °C

    Ah, the title conjures up images of hot apple cider, vibrantly colored trees, crisp mornings, and pumpkin spice everything. Igloolik fall? Oh, definitely the same. Nothing different about fall here. Well, except everything. lolol. In one week, the daylight will be done. Currently, we have just under 3 hrs of semi-daylight---if you can call the sun rising about two inches above the horizon daylight. lol. The mornings are definitely crisp, though we've gone through a warming spell. In fact, it got up to -15 and I thought, "I'll just take my trash out to the dumpster with no coat or hat on since it's so warm." I even put back the big parka and broke the little guy back out---though I will say, the little parka now seems rather inferior and lame. Nonetheless, it is way less bulky and keeps me warm---but its fur is no match for the big parka's fur. I wanna sleep in the big parka's fur. I have a feeling I might be draped in animal skins the next time someone sees me.

    While those down south are enjoying fall leaves and football on the weekend, I have been enjoying such activities as helping dig my boss's qamatik out of the snow. The qamatik (various spellings) is a wooden sled that was traditionally pulled by dogs. It is about 12-15 feet long and the runners are 2x10s. The runners have a piece of teflon plastic to reduce drag. The two runners are spaced about 3 feet apart. Two-by-fours or something similar make up the decking with about an inch of space between each board. You can leave the qamatik open, like a flat-bed truck, or you can lash a shelter onto it. My boss has a box that he puts on it so we had to get that out too. It was the width of the qamatik and 8ft long; a plywood box. Trying to maneuver and pull these wooden items through the drifts of snow was more than enough work out for me.

    I finished off the wild weekend with some more bingo---didn't win again---and started a jigsaw puzzle. The activities I engage in here are truly exciting.

    Today, there was no work because of a blizzard. However, it's not like when you were a kid and you could watch the TV to see if school was canceled. I have no way to know. And, because my job is so weird about email/internet, I cannot even check my email on non-work servers (exceedingly annoying actually). Thus, I can't get the bulletin that work is closed. So, what do I do? I open the door this morning, have it nearly blown back in my face, and then slam it shut, muttering, "Aw hell naw." Which means I trudged back in to find my goggles, put them on, zipped up the coat fully, pulled the neck gaiter up, and pushed back outside. I have been getting rides to work from my boss so I headed towards his place. As I wound through the buildings, the drifts were catching my feet on what was usually a well-packed path. I emerged from between the housing units and saw neither his ATV or Skidoo were running. And, that's how I knew there was no work. Nevertheless, we decided to go to work for a bit just to finalize some things. I mean, what else am I gonna do? Go to the mall. bhahahaha.

    It was quite the trip getting back home though. Turns out living in Washington made me familiar with snow. The difference now is that I am IN the weather, not just driving through it with a climate-controlled, warm car. Nope, snow-ice pelting my face as we slip and slide on the ATV back home is a real treat. The light is so flat you can't see any features. Hence, we drove right into a 2-3ft snow drift without even seeing it. Oops. Get to push the ATV out and continue on your way----away from the edges of the road.

    Thankfully, I have plenty of food to eat because I'm pretty sure I'm not going back out in this to the store and there won't be any planes coming in anyhow. Now just to relax in the cozy warmth of home and stuff my face. :)
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  • Day135

    Do you have the baculum?

    January 23, 2018 in Canada ⋅ ☀️ 28 °C

    "Do you have the baculum?" and other assorted things I never thought I'd hear.

    The setting: I was relaying my excitement at finally getting a package from my husband that was several days overdue to my boss. He looks dead at me and goes, "Do you have the baculum?" That was my boss's response to me saying, "Yay! The post office finally had my parcel today!" Blink. Blink. Now, those of you that have been following this blog have learned that 'baculum' is the technical term for a penis bone. In this case, we'd be referring to polar bear penis bone. So, yeah, I was a more than a little confused. To alleviate the confusion, my boss then repeats the exact same question, just louder and slower, as if I did not hear him ask if I had the baculum. Blink. Blink. Blink. My mind is racing to try and make polar bear penis bone and "yay, mail!" somehow fit together. What do these two things have in common? It's like I'm on a game show trying to figure out the common thread. My brain is failing me. I wonder if my boss is being really weird and somehow asking if my husband has included some sort of penis thing in my "package". I nixed that idea--I wasn't willing to go there and even ask if that's what he was talking about. Was someone shipping us baculums? Why would they do that; our polar bear samples come frozen by air...not in general mail with your electric bill and Zulily magazine----you know, polar bear penis meat isn't exactly great to send through snail mail. Everyone loses in that scenario. Finally, when none of my mental confabulations could construct anything remotely sensical, I gave up and said, "What in the ever loving world are you talking about penis bones?!!?" To which he replies, "I guess you don't have the baculum." lololol. Now the situation was just silly. "Nope, no I do not have the baculum. Care to enlighten me?" He then goes on to explain (as if this should have been stunningly obvious) that our work's post office box key is attached to a baculum. You know, so we don't lose it. Kinda like restaurants putting cute flowers on their pens to dissuade accidental (or purposeful) theft. We, apparently, attach penis bones to things we don't want to disappear.

    About one to two weeks ago, it was frigid. I know, I know, it's always frigid. But, this was the coldest it's been all year. Real cold. Real windchill. So, I felt as if I had enough, shall we say, "arctic" on my plate. Then, as if things could not be any more inhospitable, our office manager comes in and delivers a warning: "Be careful walking home. There are reports of rabid dogs in town." And she walks out. That's it. As I sit there, mouth still gaping, I switch from shock to hilarity. Of COURSE, there'd be rabid dogs. I mean, why not? Why wouldn't there be?? I mean, life is just too cushy and easy here anyways. We need a little excitement to top up the day. What better way than throw in a pack of rabid dogs in the mix??!! It's not enough to have to endure the extreme cold. Noooooo, we gotta make it actually tough by adding in "avoid rabid dogs". When 5 pm rolled around, I put on all my gear, and because it was so cold, I had to have my hood up and pulled forward to protect from the wind. For those of you that have not been in an Arctic parka, the hood, fully on and pulled up, creates a tunnel of vision that allows a field of view of approximately 37.8 degrees (I made that up). The point is, you can't see shit. Not the person standing next to you, not the person standing slightly in front of you. You can't hear either. So you damn sure can't see a "friendly" rabid dog racing up to bite your ass. And, it's not like you can carry a stick for defense cause there are NO trees----yep, just like we learned about the tundra. I stood outside my work and did a 360 to see what I could see. No dogs. Oh well, gotta get home. Mama is hungry! And off I set, swoosh, swoosh, swooshing in all my ski pant, parka glory. I rationalized that if a dog did, in fact, try to bite me, it wouldn't get through the one of those police dog training suits. I made it safely home and now just keep an eye out for rabid foxes or whatever other creature, like a polar bear, might be wandering about. But hey! --at least the sun's come back so I'll hopefully be able to see the monsters before they get me!

    Next story: After a wind storm and power outage, our work servers were fried in Igloolik. We did not have internet, at all, for 4 days. Think about that. A lot of organizing, cleaning, and editing documents got done in those days. And we all feared when the internet would return to bombard us with piled up emails full of crap that we'd been so happily oblivious to for 4 work days. But, the inevitable happened...a server was flown in and a tech flown in and a mere 4 days later, we had internet. The best part is that when I saw the first email envelope ping into my inbox, I ran out into the center atrium area and asked if anyone else had internet. At that moment, someone yelled, "I have internet!" and we all smiled and hurrahed. Before the smiles could even fade, a coworker came out of the bathroom and said, "the toilets aren't working properly." Cue instant smile-fade. I turned to the manager and quipped, "Welp, we got working internet but no toilets. Guess you can't have it all!" and flounced away to my office to hold my pee.

    Next story: Today, the guy from housing came back from my house, to my work, to show me what he'd pulled out of my tub drain. I live on the other side of town from work. He drove over to work with that nasty drain ooze in the vehicle. Then, he brought it into my work, walked past everyone's offices to show. me. a. drain. clog. Not in a bag, not in a container. Just out there for all to enjoy. If I had any pride, I'd be embarrassed. However, I just told him, "wow, that's wonderful. No thank you, I do not want to keep it." (he asked if I wanted to keep it).

    Every day folks. If seems that every single day something happens or is said that I never thought I'd hear or have to deal with. I am not sure I can go back to working in a place where the internet is fast and reliable, the toilets work, there isn't the constant fear of frostbite and rabid dogs, and people don't randomly ask me about polar bear penis bones.
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Igloolik, Iglulik, Иглулик, Igloulik, YGT, İglulik, اگلولک

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