Scenes from around town

Here are some random pictures from around town. These unfortunately might be the last ones - our camera seems to be malfunctioning. And at a very inopportune time - there's a really cool cultural exchange going on this week - there are a bunch of native (not Inuit) people from the Northwest Territories here (some of whom got here by snowmobile - 600 km in four days). There's entertainment every night - dancing, traditional sports and games. Let's hope we can get our camera fixed. In the meantime....

The most common way to get around town in the winter is by far the snowmobile. All the other vehicles are trucks of one sort or another. I've only seen one car in town - an all-wheel-drive Subaru owned by one of the nurses. -30° doesn't really stop anyone from getting out. Some kids playing, probably around 9 pm:

Aside from a few dinners with the nurses, our social life here has revolved around a group of 8- to 14-year-olds who frequently come to visit. We had about 15 kids here the other day, making cookies. We probably aren't the most exciting hosts, but the kids seem to be fairly well entertained by Binda, the computer, a deck of cards, and Scrabble. But the favourite toy is the digital camera. Here's a shot someone took from our upstairs loft:
A tour of town....

The primary school is in the foreground, the high school is the one with the fish on it (I'm guessing that's an Arctic char, the local speciality), and the Northern store is in the distance on the left:
The Co-op is our other store: Notice all the buildings are built up off the ground, so they don't melt the permafrost and sink into it. Both stores have food and some clothes, hardware, snowmobile parts, toys, ice augers, etc.... Most services are found at one or the other - the post office, banking, tax services, mail order.

The recreation complex contains a hockey rink and curling sheet, and hosts a lot of other community events:The hockey rink. That's the Nunavut flag on the left:

The Pentecostal church, one of three churches in town:

Rabbit hides, maybe destined to become someone's mittens:

Overlooking the Coppermine River:

"New Town":

We saw three kids trying to catch ptarmigans. Apparently this is possible, but these kids didn't have any luck. Can you see the ptarmigans? Nice camouflauge, eh?

Three komatiks stacked up - komatiks are sleds pulled behind snowmobiles (and behind dogsleds in the past):

Muskox hide:

A nice walk around town Sunday:

Beached..... Binda leaves her mark.....

Absurd thoughts I have had recently

1. "Wow, it's warm today." - When it was up to -23° with no wind.

2. "I'm getting frostbite on my face, but sweat is rolling down my back." - Layering is not always easy.

3. "Dirt! Cool!" - Upon seeing a bit of a driveway scuffed up by a snowmobile. Everything else is solidly encased in ice or packed snow.

What is this Nunavut anyway? Why do green beans cost so much? And can you use the word 'ski-doo' in Scrabble?

Quick - what do you know about Nunavut? Yes, it probably went quickly, didn't it? I think most Americans and probably many Canadians don't know much. Before I moved to Canada, I knew that it was north, it was cold, and it was fairly recently separated off from the Northwest Territories (NWT). That's it. So, let me edify all of us.... Nunavut is one of three territories in Canada (the others are Yukon and NWT). All three are big and lightly populated and cold. They have some representation in Parliament, but not as much as a regular province. There are some other differences in governmental structure that I, as a pseudo-Canadian, cannot understand. Nunavut separated from NWT in 1993, as a way of achieving more autonomy and to recognize its higher concentration of Inuit residents (Nunavut is about 85% Inuit).

Nunavut is huge. It's the largest province or territory in Canada. It's about 2½ times bigger than Texas and is significantly larger than Alaska. In fact, it Nunavut were a country, it would be the 15th largest in the world, between Saudi Arabia and Mexico. It's so big, it spans the width of almost the entire continental US - the western border of Nunavut (not far from here) is on a longitude line that runs through the middle of California, and the eastern edge of the territory, Baffin Island (where the capital Iqaluit is), is at the same longitude as the eastern tip of Maine. The Nunavut government tried for awhile to put the entire territory on the same time zone, but the communities in the far east and the far west didn't care for it much. A few years ago when they tried to put everyone on Eastern time for the summer, Kugluktuk decided they'd had enough - they would permanently stay on Mountain time. The change to Eastern would have put them two hours ahead of Yellowknife and Edmonton, the two most important big cities here - and they're east of Kugluktuk.

In this huge space, there are all of 31,000 people. There are 26 small towns in the territory. Iqaluit is the largest at about 6,200 people; Kugluktuk is the 9th largest with 1,300 people. These large communities are a fairly recent development. The Inuit traditionally lived on the land and somewhat nomadically. The Canadian government encouraged them to concentrate into the communities, most of which are accessible by water, around the 1950s because it was easier to supply them with food, fuel, health care, education, etc. And I'm sure there are probably another reason or two. Kugluktuk started as a small trading village in the early 1900s. It was formerly known as Coppermine and took its Innuinuqtan name in 1996.

A lot of the residents here still hunt (caribou, muskox, seal, rabbits) and fish (arctic char is the big fish here), at least part-time. There's also an association that funds hunts to provide caribou and other traditional "country foods" for the elders and others who can't hunt. Right before we got here, there was a big muskox hunt and we've seen the produce of it sitting around town, waiting to be butchered (no hurry - outside is one big freezer here). Seal skin and caribou, wolf, muskox, and rabbit (arctic hare) hides and fur are still used to make coats, gloves, and boots. Today, I bought a pair of rabbit mittens [kind of unfortunate given the proximity to Easter, I guess :-) ]! Very warm. But I'll have to be watch Binda - she's been eyeing them all day!

A lot of people are involved in producing art and handicrafts. In addition to clothes, there are a lot of carvings made here, using local soapstone and dolomite. The carvings are really well done. We've bought a few (new visitors are hit up pretty quickly by local artists) - we're getting quite a bargain over what they'd go for in a boutique in Toronto, and it's nice to support local people. Ashifa says it seems to her that unemployment may not be quite as big a problem here as in other northern communities she's been in. There are numerous government jobs here, and a lot of people work at nearby mines, in particular a couple diamond mines. They work at the mines for two weeks and then are back here for two weeks.

It's 8:30 pm right now - the sun is down but it's still light out. In March. Yes, we are in the land of midnight sun, although we aren't going to get to see it. This year, from mid-May to mid-July, it's 24-hour sun, and from December 1 to Jan 10, it's 24-hour darkness. On January 11th, the sun will be up for about an hour around noon. I'm sure that'll be a party. So what this means is that things change very quickly the rest of the year. The day we got here two weeks ago, the sun went down at about 6:40. By the time we leave in a week and a half, sunset will be at 8:20. We are also in the land of the northern lights. We saw them the second night we were here - a really spectacular show of green flowing streaks all across the eastern half of the sky. It's the first time I've seen them. Unfortunately, we haven't seen them since. This is primarily due to the fact that we haven't been outside at night much, because it's, well, cold. We really need to get out and do some looking in these next two weeks.

One of the other facts of life here is that the cost of living is insanely high. There is no road access to Kugluktuk (or any of the communities in Nunavut for that matter). That means everything that is here that isn't natural had to be brought here by either plane or boat - everything from telephone poles to Kleenex. And boats don't arrive very often. The ice doesn't completely disappear from the gulf here until mid-July and starts reappearing in the fall (and the kids here swim in the gulf - I can only imagine...). So that means big things and non-perishable things arrive basically once a year. People who live here put in an order in the spring for everything they think they'll need for the next year - from trucks to new cabinets to jars of jelly. Then, barges arrive in August and September, carrying everything that's been ordered in containers. Your containers are delivered right to your house by forklift.

For the rest of the year everything coming in, including all perishable food, arrives by plane - at a very high price, of course. It costs about 30¢/lb to bring in something by barge; $5/lb by plane. Our plane from Yellowknife was divided in half - the back half of the fuselage had about ten rows of seats. The front half was divided off and was all cargo. Presumably that is where the $12 gallons of milk were. All of this means that prices for anything imported are incredibly high. Ashifa was prepared for this, since it's often the same situation in other northern communities. However, this place is more expensive than even she expected. I think the first time I went to the store, my jaw literally dropped. $11 for a medium-sized box of Raisin Bran, the aforementioned $12 for 4 L (gallon) of milk, $4.50 for a can of green beans, $20 for a 12-pack of Coke. And let's not even get into fruits and vegetables. Okay, let's get into it.... We haven't actually bought much fresh produce, but what we've observed - $7 for a small package of grapes, $5 for 3 little oranges, $13 for bag of potatoes that would have been $3 in Toronto.

Luckily, there are two stores here, both part of chains found throughout northern Canada - the Northern Store (whose history in the north goes all the way back to the 1700s, and was once a part of the Hudson's Bay Company) and the Co-Op, so we can comparison shop. Those prices above, by the way, would be at the cheaper store; Raisin Bran is $13 at the other store, Coke is $22. It seems that about half of the things are cheaper at one store, half at the other. Anticipating this, we had brought some food with us - specifically vegetables and tofu for Ashifa (no soy fake meat to be found here). We should have brought another suitcase! I guess we just have to factor the high prices in and consider ourselves lucky that we can afford to buy anything in the store. That's a luxury not everyone here has. We've decided we're going to just have to quit thinking about the prices and buy what we need to buy. Still, it's a pretty good diet tool for two frugal people. :) The doctor who was here before us left some food, which has been nice. We've gotten a lot of mileage out of a bag of instant mashed potatoes. And he also left a fish in the freezer! A whole fish, guts and all. Ashifa fileted it and we had some nice local fish one night (although I'm guessing not many locals serve it as a curry).

We're enjoying our four-day holiday weekend! We took a long walk/snowshoe yesterday along a cliff overlooking the Coppermine River. Today, we rented a snowmobile and took a couple rides with some of the nurses Ashifa works with. We rode along the river and the ocean. Beautiful! But very cold. Ashifa posed the question, "If it's -40° and you're driving at 30 km/hr, what is the wind chill?" The answer is "cold enough to make you hurt". We had a lot of fun, but it was hard to stay out too long.

On the Coppermine River:

On a smaller stream:

Fueling up the ski-doo (It's a Polaris, not a Ski-doo, but they're all 'ski-doos' here; in the summer they ride four-wheeler ATVs which, regardless of brand, are "Hondas".)This is the only gas pump in town. Gas was $1.28 a liter ($4.75 a gallon), which I believe is a bit higher than Toronto right now, unless things have gone crazy since we left. Which is possible.

Me driving the ski-doo. My normal gloves were seriously inadequate to prevent me from getting frostbite despite the heated handgrips! So I'm borrowing one of the nurse's wolf-fur mitts.

No more picture burnout - for me, at least

I've finally finished posting all the pictures from the trip. And I hope to never see them again. :) You, however, should go enjoy them.

• Italy and North India: www.flickr.com/photos/ediwa1
• South India, Singapore, Malaysia: www.flickr.com/photos/ediwa2
• Laos and Vietnam: www.flickr.com/photos/ediwa3

Why three flickr accounts, you might ask. Because I am a tightwad, I might answer. The pictures arranged themselves into three tidy packages of just under 200 pictures, which happens to be the limit for a free flickr account!

A dissertation on cold

You know it's cold when you start having serious discussions about what exactly 'absolute zero' means. For the record, we're not even close - it's -273°C. But we're getting there. This morning it's currently -58°C (-72°F) wind chill. This is by far our coldest day here. I can't really tell you what it feels like, because I've decided I won't be leaving the house until Binda is knocking down the door to go out to pee. Ashifa should be home for lunch soon. If she's still able to move after the five minute walk, I'll assume it's safe to go outside. Yesterday was one of our best days here. It was around -24°C (-11°F) and sunny with very little wind. Actually, it's almost always sunny here; right now -58° looks beautiful. I think it's a trick.

Yesterday, we took a nice walk and climbed a ridge on the west side of town where we could get a birds-eye view of the whole town and vicinity.
The hamlet of Kugluktuk:

Up the ridge: That's the Arctic Ocean beyond Ashifa: Binda goes exploring. Our little half-husky is loving the Arctic.

Normally, these extreme temperatures are fine for walking around, as long as you're dressed properly. Ashifa already had cold-weather gear from her previous trips to the Northwest Territories and northern Ontario. I had to do some shopping before we left. I had located my -100°F Sorel boots before we left for India. I didn't have time to look for a parka then, however. We were a little concerned about waiting until February to look for a serious winter coat in Toronto. We'd heard the selection was pretty minimal by then. We did some last-minute shopping and lucked into a great parka that was on sale.

I opted not to spend $600 on the ultimate "I have a lot of money and I don't like to be cold" statement, the Canada Goose parka. Canada Goose is the chic parka favored by real Arctic dwellers, and actors and film crews in Toronto. I found a North Face coat on sale for less than half that price.

I really don't like to be cold, so I was a little concerned that $300 difference was going to leave me sad and frostbitten. Not to worry. The first couple days, I was walking around comfortably and thought "maybe it's not really that cold". However, I realized how very effective my coat and boots are the first time I had to take off my gloves outside. The toasty jacket gives you a false sense of security. My hands started failing to move after about 20 seconds of fiddling with Binda's leash. Later, I tried to take some pictures and could barely take one - bare hand on metal camera - before I had to give up. Things like that remind you that hypothermia is serious business. So, I've learned to be very efficient at anything that involves skin exposure and otherwise keep well-bundled.

We both have good gloves, but unless it's really warm, we usually keep our fists balled up inside. My 5-minute walk home from the grocery store yesterday required at least three finger-warming stops because I had to have my fingers in normal glove position to carry the grocery bags. I've been hoping to buy some real Inuit sealskin mittens while I'm up here. I think I need to get on that.

Since you have to keep your face covered most of the time, glasses are pretty much useless when you're outside because they get fogged up. And since walking in snow with a five-pound parka and giant five-pound moon boots is always a workout, there's a lot of heavy breathing. So after any lengthy time out, we usually end up looking like this:

Ashifa said that in previous winter trips to the Arctic, she had her own way of telling the temperature by certain milestones - you know it's a certain temperature when your otherwise-soft parka starts to make crinkly noises, or the temperature at which your eyelashes freeze together when you blink. We've definitely reached both points here in Kugluktuk. When it's really cold, my parka feels like I'm wearing a sheet-metal skirt. And you learn to blink really fast.

You know how they say the Inuit (the ethnicity formerly known as Eskimo) have forty words for snow? The Weather Network is obviously trying to keep up. I usually check the weather online every morning to see what I'm up against. I've seen them describe the conditions on various days as "light snow grains", "frozen fog", and "ice crystals". Today, it's just "clear".

This was "frozen fog" day:
Did you know -40°C = -40°F? This trip has done a lot for my further education in the metric system.

Pics Are Up

One of my tasks for our time in Nunavut is to finish weeding through the 2,200 pictures we took on the trip and getting them online. I have it down to under 600 now. Just the essentials. :)

Here's the first batch, from Italy and North India: www.flickr.com/photos/ediwa1.

Feel free to leave comments - we'd love to hear from you. We should have the rest of the pics up within a week or so.

The Interlude

Greetings from Kugluktuk! We've made to the Great Really White Really Far North. We arrived two days ago safely and soundly, although not entirely warmly.

Our two-week "break" between Asia and the Arctic was packed full of visits with family and friends, interspersed with a few days here and there in our own home, trying to catch up on mail and other administrative things that had been largely neglected for three months. We spent several days in Markham with Ashifa's family, then headed south for a visit with my family in Ohio. It was so nice to be able to reconnect with everyone!

Visiting with my nieces, Beth and Maya:

Binda takes a snow bath, hiking with Missy in Akron:
We also managed to catch a little bit of the crazy winter Toronto has had. They've had tons (tonnes in Canadian?) of snow this winter and we thought we had missed it! But we got a nice fat snowstorm on our next-to-last day at home, so we got to enjoy it a bit (I think everyone else in Toronto is sick of it). Our neighbors Michelle and Rob have been wonderful helping us out with shoveling our sidewalk while we were gone, so were at least able to do that ourselves this time. And Binda loved playing in all the fluffy snow at the park. We also managed to fit in a couple of cross-country ski laps around Dovercourt Park ourselves.

Ashifa and our neighbour Boysie shoveling out the latest snow:
Thankfully, the snow let up just in time for us to take off for the north. Binda came along for this trip. She has flown before, when Ashifa first got her as a puppy. However, those were flights in little bush planes in northern Ontario and Binda got to sit on Ashifa's lap. This time, she was making three flights in the cargo hold in a kennel. She seemed to do very well (although she was really happy to get out of the kennel after each flight). I think it was probably much harder on Ashifa, the anxious dog-mom, than it was on Binda. Binda's a pretty adaptable pup - she's already a very good subway and streetcar rider. Now we can add airplane to the list. I have to say, though, nothing attracts attention like a dog walking through an airport.

In the airport shuttle in Edmonton:
We arrived in Kugluktuk on our little plane from Yellowknife to a sunny and pleasant day with a temperature of -29°C (that's -20°F, but at that point, does it really matter?). But, you know, it's a dry cold, so it wasn't so bad. :) Kugluktuk (formerly known as Coppermine) is a town of about 1,500. There are two stores, two schools, two churches, one health center, a few government offices, and a lot of snowmobiles. We have a very nice apartment that has, thankfully, very good heating.

Home sweet home - we're in the left side of the duplex:
Our neighbourhood. At the end of the street, the Coppermine Inn hotel is on the right and the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP - sadly, Americans, no one calls them the Mounties anymore) office is on the left:
And a little bit beyond that, the Arctic Ocean.... Here's Binda running on the ocean:

From what I understand, this ocean is sometimes made of water.

I'd show you some more pictures, but this was about all I could squeeze out before my hands froze. We'll have to wait for a slightly warmer day for photography. I found that holding on to a metal object with bare hands at -42° windchill is not advisable.

One thing you won't be noticing in any of these pictures is trees! We left those behind several degrees of latitude ago.

As we took off on our last flight from Yellowknife to Kugluktuk, sitting there in a prop plane wearing our parkas, Ashifa remarked "We've had a surreal couple of months." Very true. From the Himalayas to the jungle to the Arctic. Right now, we're just happy to be able to unpack and relax in one place for more than a few days. We'll have lots more to say soon on Inuit culture, choosing a parka, and the price of green beans.