On Thursday all of the Elementary school teachers were taken on a boat ride. Six or seven local elders and fishermen were commissioned to take us through some very cold water, across the straight and over to Baffin island which is said to be the original settlement of Inuit people in this area. On the way we stopped briefly on another island where we were greeted on the beach by a very excited sled dog team. These dogs are left on the island all summer where they run free together. Their owner visits the island regularly to bring them meat. These nine dogs were very healthy-looking, even more so than most here in town. What a life. An island all to themselves to run and play and rest in the sun and someone to bring them rich, delicious food! And they have each other to keep warm at night. As our boats approached the beach, many of us were apprehensive because the dogs were jumping over each other, barking and some even strode out into the freezing water to get closer. Three of our boats beached and Ian and I got out to explore. One of the guides’ sons kept the dogs busy so they wouldn’t run us over. Just a few meters up the beach where there were short grasses and mosses, bones littered the ground. There were mostly large vertebrae and rib bones but a couple little skulls, probably of ermines or lemmings. One bone Ian picked up had maggots on it, indicating that indeed the life cycle of decomposers works in the arctic. Once we got to Baffin, we climbed the rocky shoreline over boulders to get our instructions. Our guides would get the stoves hot for lunch while we explored the island, making our way to an old church. On the way across the island it was somewhat difficult to walk over boulders and rock crevices, avoiding the odd puddle formed in a rock’s indentation. Many children had run across the entire island’s length to greet our boats and as we carefully made our way across the landscape, they gingerly jumped and ran ahead and back to us, anxious to see their old teachers and meet the new ones. These children camp on the island with their families for the summer and return to their communities when hunting and fishing is done for the island. Eventually the land softened into a flatter area covered with thick mosses and short grasses. The earth underfoot was so thick and soft your feet would sink into it at each step. This ecosystem was so incredibly different from our own community. There was so much plant life, so much green compared to our hard-packed gravel. Two of the bright-eyed children offered us a plant saying, “We eat this”. We aren’t sure what it was but it was sweet and yummy. Arriving at the old missionary church, an elder, full of historical and cultural knowledge gave us a talk about the church and the settlement. The church had been rebuilt in 1922 after the original had burnt down in 1920. It was constructed of wood with some remaining sod stacked on the outside walls for insulation. The wood had been brought by early European arctic explorers. Once you stepped through the very low door, inside were a few rough benches along the walls and a simple wooden cross at the front where the alter would have been. The bell had long been removed from the bell housing and the hole in the roof could still be seen where the stove would have been. Not too far from the church was an amazing sight. Many collapsed sod houses could be seen scattered across the land. They had been built in the mid-1800s and were still in use as much as 50 years ago. There are people living in our community that were born in these sod houses. You could still make out the piles of sod strips stacked up for the walls but the roofs had collapsed into the middle. Short, slender stones still stood at the doorways where they would have supported the sod atop them. The children jumped in and played as if in a sandbox, while we listened to the elder detail the life of the people who would have lived there. Julie, the archeologist who had accompanied us on this trip, reminded us of the fines and jail time associated with removing or disturbing anything in an official archeological site, which this most certainly was. Julie had an interesting discussion with the elders about the Inuit’s access to their own historical sites. What a rare experience. Scattered all across this area were walrus skulls and vertebrae. The people living there would have dragged them from the ice up to the settlement and used every part that they could. Not finding any other bones indicates that the rib cages would have been used as well as all organs and skins. Lemmings and ermines now inhabit the island. Further across the island was a cemetery. Bodies had been laid on the ground and possibly covered in sod and then had large stones piled atop the graves, each with a cross to mark it, held in place also by a pile of rocks. One grave in particular had not had sod to fill in the grave so what was left was a pile of stones hollow inside but for the bones of the person who had long past. The children were anxious for us to peak through the holes between the stones to see the remains. It felt odd to experience this. Having seen many skeletal remains on television with all the crime-related shows we like, it seemed ordinary at first followed by the realization of how profound it was. This person had been incredibly resilient and resourceful, using knowledge now largely lost and experiencing a life, only known now by a few, having been passed down by his or her children. And here we were peering into his or her final resting place. Amazing. One very large, stark-white cross marked a grave across a bluff from the cemetery, high on a cliff over-looking the ocean. This marked the grave of our guide’s grandfather. After our historical lesson, we returned to the boulder shore where our boats were anchored. We each found a spot to sit and enjoyed our bagged lunches and cup-o-noodles. Some of the children had followed us all the way back and waited patiently to have a teacher share their noodles or grapes or cookies. Julie brought 2 boxes of girl-guide cookies, which were a big hit. One of the elders had thrown out a net and caught some char for the elders to eat. Our principal had taken some to give to us newbies to eat raw. The flavour was almost non-existent but Ian and I both had difficulty getting it down due to the texture. I have never been a sushi lover and while I was glad to have the experience I must say I did not enjoy the raw char. The elders loved it saying that raw was the best way to eat it. Crouched low to the ground, surrounding the dead fish, they would take a large piece, place one end between their teeth and, holding the other end with one hand, cut it off at their lips with a large knife.
On the boat ride back, the water was a bit rougher – thank goodness for Gore-tex! Ian’s guide seemed to enjoy hitting the waves at just the right angle and speed so as to cause a splash of water to hit Ian square-on. I too got pretty wet and was thankful someone had told me to wear my heavy parka. It was a fabulous experience and we hope to have more like it, perhaps with more wildlife. -posted by jennifer
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