Posted on February 18, 2021 under Thursday Tidbits with 2 comments

Any porch in a storm. (Thanks, ER)

 

“And now, the end is here,

And so I face the final curtain,

My friend I’ll make it clear,

I’ll state my case, of which I’m certain.”

My Way. Frank Sinatra

I’ll state my case, of which I’m uncertain.

Those of you who know me well know that I am a pretty determined individual. I’m task oriented and when called to so something, I try to do it well and on time. There’s another word for determined and that would be stubborn. I’m sure it has something to do with that not so rare mix of Irish and Scottish found in many small communities in Nova Scotia. We don’t like to cry “uncle”. Crying uncle is akin to raising the white flag, surrendering to your opponent.

For months and months, I had a running battle with Bell trying to get my billing sorted out. This was finally resolved so no more “Bell bashing”. My newest mortal enemy is the internet and it has brought me to the brink. Last year, we had decent internet. I couldn’t stream Netflix or Crave but in the grand scheme of things, that’s not a deal breaker. At the beginning of this school year, the internet had slowed down considerably in my apartment, but I had the school as a fallback position. It’s only 30 seconds from my front door so making my way there in the evenings and weekends wasn’t a big deal. Up until three weeks ago, I could even do Zoom calls which was really wonderful at Christmas because I couldn’t go home because of Covid.

For reasons yet to be determined, the school’s internet has ceased to function. For the first few days it was mildly inconvenient but now it has become a pretty big issue. Teachers use the internet for teaching purposes. It’s almost indispensable. When you can’t order groceries or pay bills online, things get dicey.

Which segues nicely into my Week45 posts. I have been posting twice a week for almost ten years. Ho hum. You have said this several times before, Len.  What. Are you looking for a medal or a gold star?

No.

I’m getting to the point where I might have to take a brief hiatus from sharing my pearls of wisdom with you. Yes, there is the odd time that coming up with some fresh material is a challenge, but this is not why I might have to hit the pause button. Posting the stories has become a giant pain in the arse. I don’t mind at all getting up at 6:00 a.m. so that my story lands on your breakfast table in a timely fashion but lately the contortions I’ve had to go through to post a story is bordering on the ridiculous. It took several hours the other day just to upload the story and picture on my website. This usually takes all of 5 minutes. When it came to posting, I tried at home and at the school with no luck. I went to my neighbors house and stood on their porch at 6:15 a.m.to use their internet. It was -25. Luckily, I was able to get the story posted but this has become a burden.

They are working to fix the problem with the internet at school but so far, no luck. If I miss a few posts, I want you to know that I haven’t capitulated.

If I come back to the north for another year, I will definitely be having a serious chat with Elon Musk about his much anticipated SpaceX Starlink Internet service. Do you think Elon could arrange to have a Wheel Pizza delivered?

I have a new name and expanded job description. Meet Captain Burgundy.

The school has a few trucks which staff are welcome to use for things like groceries, getting parcels at the post office or going to the airport to get grocery boxes from cargo planes. Sounds pretty straight forward, right? Wrong. I thought the problems in the Middle East were complex until I discovered that keeping track of the trucks, the keys and the extension cords was more challenging than dealing with a group of recalcitrant teenagers. I agreed to take responsibility for the burgundy truck, or just “the Burgundy” as it is affectionately known. It will be parked near my apartment and anyone wishing to use it must communicate with the group of teachers who use it routinely. So far things are going well. Once I’ve solved the Middle East conundrum and the trucks, I will use my energies to tackle global warming.

By the way, I’ve had a few spells of “woe is me” throughout the pandemic. It doesn’t take me long to slap myself silly when I consider that my problems are so minor as to be laughable. Whenever I get like this, I think of one of the most inspiring people I’ve ever met. Please take a few moments to read this post from four years ago about Pat Evans, an amazing woman who became a quadriplegic when she was hit by a moose on her way to school. Here is her story. https://www.week45.com/positively-pat/

Accentuate the positive.

Be kind.

Display gratitude.

Have a great weekend.

P.S. I’m a thoroughly modern(a) man having received my first vaccine shot yesterday.

 

 

 

Posted on February 11, 2021 under Thursday Tidbits with one comment

 

 

“Love is in the air, everywhere I look around,

Love is in the air, every sight and every sound.”

Love is in The Air. John Paul Young

For the past few days, my students have been using free time to make Valentine’s Day cards. Surely you remember back in the day when you feverishly made a Valentine Card for every single student in your class and maybe even your teacher. A few of our teachers in elementary school were tyrants… the ones with “the bad habits’. You know of whom I speak! The only reason they got a card is the fear that if you didn’t give them one, you might get a ruler across your knuckles. Good job, Len. You just managed to spoil all the good vibes about Cupid. In any event, for you romantic types, there is still time to get something for someone special in your life before Sunday.

Speaking of Sunday and Valentine’s Day (February 14^th), I am planning to do a special Pillow Talk at 7:00p.m. Atlantic  (6:00 Eastern; 3:00 Pacific). Send me your favourite love songs in advance and I’ll try and sing them for you. It won’t be quite “Super Sunday” but I’m sure we’ll have fun.

Did you see the Super Bowl last Sunday? I received three different invitations to  attend a Super Bowl gathering that evening but ended up watching the game alone in my apartment. I knew that if I went to a gathering and got caught up in the game, that the following day at school would be especially long. However, there was one invitation that I did accept. I was invited to a Super Bowl brunch earlier that day. Attendees were asked to contribute some food. I was more than happy to participate. The hosts were making eggs and pancakes. I decided to add a dash of protein. You vegetarians and vegans will cringe at my choices. I made sausages, ham and cooked up some slices of steak. I even had some sweet and sour meatballs that I had made the day before.

Thirty minutes before the brunch began, I received a message from the hosts. The brunch was cancelled and rescheduled for this coming Sunday. I looked at the small mountain of meat and even a carnivore like me would have had his hands full trying to get through all of this meat solo. What to do? What to do?

I decided to invite the would be hosts to my place for brunch. They agreed. Now, there is a perfectly good reason why the brunch had been cancelled and this is one of these things unique to the north. As I have mentioned before in this space, essential services come in the form of municipal trucks. The ground is too hard, rocky and cold to install water and sewer lines. Instead, water is delivered to our houses every few days and sewage is pumped out of our abodes on a similar schedule. Now, from time to time, despite our best intentions, we run out of water or our sewage tank is full. When this happens, we have colored lights in our homes that go on when these situations arise. Our hosts noticed that their sewage light was on which forced the cancellation. If they hadn’t noticed this in time, the shit would have hit the fan… literally!

Vaccine is arriving in the village in the next week, enough to administer a first dose to every citizen who wants one. Needless to say, everyone is pleased with this news, none more so than those of us pondering travel at Spring Break. I know, I know. Governments don’t want us to go anywhere other than the bathroom these days. I will make my choice judiciously when the time comes. It’s been a long haul since arriving here on August 1^st.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Have a great weekend.

Posted on February 4, 2021 under Thursday Tidbits with one comment

To the beat of Mary’s drum.

 

“Paingupaa paingupaa paingupalii Alakuup irniapinganuut.”

“I miss, miss, miss Alaku’s lovely son.” This song was created probably in the 1940s or 50s by someone who missed Pausi, Alaku’s son. This family was living on their own on a campsite or campsites just like any other family before everyone was forced to settle in Kangirsujuaq by the Government of the day in the late 1950s. (Translation by Mary Argnak)

I hardly know where to start.

Every once in a while, I think that I am starting to understand the north. More often than not, I’m wrong. I could live up here another 25 years and I doubt that I could even scratch the surface.

As mentioned in a previous post, I was invited to join a group of young children who meet after school at the museum to sing songs of the Inuit, play drums and throat sing. I was asked to play guitar. I was not brought in as a guest throat singer! During a normal year when a global pandemic is not raging, this troupe, led by Mary and Lydia, perform in the community and also at Pingualuit National Park. They perform for their community and they also play for visitors and tourists who are looking for an authentic experience.

I wandered up to the museum after school on Tuesday for my first session. I kind of resembled the Pied Piper as a string of youngsters walked along side me and behind me. One of my students volunteered to be the roadie and carried my guitar. This was the first session in a very long time and the organizers weren’t sure how many to expect. Twenty-five students ranging in age from 8-13 crowded into one of the main exhibit rooms, a place oozing with culture and history. I recognized most of the children. Many of them have been known to cause teachers to sprout gray hair. I think you get my drift. They’re a handful in the classroom and in the school yard.

Without any fanfare, Mary started by passing out song sheets written in Inuktitut. I wasn’t surprised to see the group sitting in a circle. There is something about a circle that speaks of family and unity. She first explained the songs in their native tongue and then translated for my benefit. Many of these children who find it hard to stay still in a classroom, were transformed right before my eyes. They were in their element, with their people, singing their songs. This was obvious a veteran group. Song after song, they joined in without any hesitation. There was no shyness and no erratic behaviour. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. At least a third of the group were boys and they were singing every bit as loud as the girls. Often at this age, boys are far too cool to actively engage in song.

The gathering was joyful as Mary and Lydia rolled out song after song. There was clapping, foot stomping and drumming. I was able to pick up the rhythms of many of the tunes and was even able to sing some of the lyrics in a rudimentary fashion. Mostly, I just stared at the faces of the children and sat, rapt, as Mary passed along stories from the elders.

All the while, one thought kept running through my mind. I realize that educating the children in school is important, but what and how we teach them is like trying to put the proverbial square peg in the round hole. No wonder the students are bored to tears much of the time and act out. When they are speaking their mother tongue, singing songs from the past, hunting and fishing, using their hands to create things of beauty, they are truly alive and engaged. I am not blaming the people who are designing the curriculum but when I see children in their element, they are very different people. As John Prine once sang, “you are what you are and you ain’t what you ain’t.”

Lydia is an extraordinary throat singer, and she is passing along her knowledge to the next generation. One by one, many students got up and stood in the middle of the circle facing Lydia. They grabbed each other’s forearms so that they could feel the movements of each other. The first song was about a little puppy and the two participants exchanged sounds so extraordinary, I am unable to describe them. One of my students was asked to join Lydia. I am putting it mildly but over the past two years, this young girl has caused my last few remaining hairs to fall out. Respect for privacy does not permit me to go into any further detail. I was dumbfounded to hear this young girl exchange sounds from deep inside her throat and her soul. It was simply awe inspiring. I was close to tears. I have no doubt that she has the ability to become a famous throat singer later in life and will no doubt pass this along to the next generation. I was so proud of her… and a bit sad in a way.

Traditional school is not the answer for so many of these children. True, instruction in the younger grades in our school is still done in Inuktitut but at grade four, they have to be educated in either English or French.  Luckily, the community provides them with extracurricular activities so that they don’t lose their language and culture.

“Unnuangulirami Taartuulirpatuq qila takuguviuk tarqiq nuivattuq ammalukitaatsiaq tarqivalutsuni qungattujuujaartuq takunnaasugu, qirngutiqarqunga suungujukallamik takugunnatara qaningnituugaluaq upaguminartu qaujiguminartuq qanuittuusarmangaat sanasimaninga.”

“This song was written by my sister-in-law, Ulaayu Pilurtuut and it goes something like this. When it is night time, as it gets dark and you look up and see the moon (nice round moon- full moon), it looks like it is smiling at you. I have a good telescope; I can see clearly to the moon. Although it is far, I dream to go and see how it is (or how it was made). (Translation by Mary Argnak)

Nakurmiik. (Thank you).

Have a great weekend.