Posted on November 19, 2020 under Thursday Tidbits with one comment

A variety of animal bones used to play traditional Inuit games

 

Sad to admit, I am not a huge history buff nor one who spends idle time hanging around museums. My misspent youth involved lots of sports and other than trips to Ireland and Scotland, my family tree knowledge can be found on one leaf of said tree. I have never been accused of being cultured or refined but I’m ok with that. I am a big fan of lifelong learning and am curious enough to want to continue my education even in the late innings of the game.

A few days ago, I took my class to the Pingualuit Museum. It is also called the Interpretive Center. It is a first-class museum and one that is attempting to preserve Inuit culture and language. Truth be told, we didn’t get to see many of the exhibits but that’s OK because we got something more precious – time with the director of the museum, Mary along with staff members, Lydia and Maali. Pasha, who runs the Family House, came over as well to spend the time with us.

I was very interested to learn about the rituals surrounding the birth of a child. When a baby is born a member of the family or community is invited to attend to cut the umbilical cord. This person is called a sanajik. The sanajik is there to bring wishes that the newborn grows up to be a strong woman or man. Such is the reverence of the sanajik, that when the child grows up, it is customary that they give a gift to this person. It could be the first kill of an animal or fish or it could be their first craft. It is a sign of respect.

The Inuit carry several names with them throughout life, mainly of their ancestors. For the longest time, the Inuit didn’t have last names but when the government of Quebec finally realized that indigenous people were living in their northern region, this changed. Not only were they given last names, but they were also given a dog tag with a serial number because they couldn’t or wouldn’t take the time to learn their Inuit names. This was one of the many humiliations bestowed upon these proud people.

Pasha demonstrated an Alaskan drum dance. As Mary slowly played a drum, Pasha and my students made beautiful movements with their arms, legs and body set to traditional music. It was mesmerizing.

We were then treated to some traditional Inuit games. We all played Nullutauti which involved a walrus tusk suspended from the ceiling with a hole in it. We all stood around with wooden spears and tried to put the tip of our spear into the hole. It’s much harder than it looks!

When an animal is killed, very little is wasted. We were shown a variety of toys made from the bones of whales and animals. One seal bone, called an arsaquq, was often used as a forecaster of sorts. The Inuit were constantly preoccupied with food. Many died of starvation. The arsaquq was tossed in the air. If it landed right side up, it meant that the hunt would be successful that day.

We had great fun playing napiraruti. Seal flipper bones of all shapes and sizes are put in a bag. A string with a noose is placed in the bag. The bag is closed and shaken. When the drawstring is loosened, the participant slowly pulls the string out of the bag and the winner is the one who has managed to snag the most bones in the noose. Each bone signifies something. When I played one of the  two bones that I pulled out of the bag denoted an old man. How apropos! The bones can also be assembled to make things, very similar to a Lego set.

What struck me most was how engaged my students were for the entire ninety minutes. It is hardly surprising. They are learning about their ancestors. This is who they are. I can totally understand why they find school boring. They are people of the land. Mary was quick to point out that while preserving the culture was of utmost importance, she felt that it was imperative that the Inuit children learn to read and write in either French or English.

I felt very privileged and honored to share this time with these wonderful women.

This is one museum that I plan to visit many more times.

You can teach an old dog new tricks… and some new games too!

Have a great weekend.

 

Posted on November 12, 2020 under Thursday Tidbits with no comments yet

Zebedee Nungak and Charlie Arngak  speaking about the JBNQA in Kangiqsujuaq

 

Yesterday, most Canadians celebrated Remembrance Day, a day to reflect on the sacrifices that so many men and women made to maintain our freedom from tyranny.

Yesterday was also the 45^th anniversary of the signing of the James Bay Northern Quebec Agreement (JBNQA). It is a day that the Inuit and Cree reflect on the sacrifices and difficult choices made by their predecessors when they signed on to this historic agreement. It can be argued that indigenous people in Canada and other parts of the world have suffered from tyranny of their own.

I don’t want my faithful readers to abandon me for having the temerity to compare these two events. I just feel that is important for non-indigenous people to have some understanding and empathy for the people from the north.

I recently read a book by an Inuit author, Zebedee Nungak. He was one of the authors and signatories of the JBNQA.The book is titled: “Wrestling With Colonialism on Steroids – Quebec Inuit Fight For Their Homeland. A few days after finishing the book, I heard that Zebedee was coming to Kangiqsujuaq to deliver a lecture. Much of what I am about to write has been gleaned from his book and his talk.

For centuries, indigenous people’s lands were passed around by colonizers and politicians as if they were monopoly cards or pieces of a chess set. From all accounts, the Inuit and Cree were never consulted when their land became Rupert’s Land by royal decree and then became part of the N.W.T. before finally being passed into the hands of Quebec in 1912.

Even after gaining control of Northern Quebec, provincial politicians completely ignored the northern region of the province for decades until the birth of the James Bay Hydroelectric project.

Back in 1971, effective communication systems were not available to the Cree and the Inuit in Northern Quebec. Rumblings were being heard over short wave radio that blasting was going on in the region. Rivers were being dammed and diverted. The news spread about an ambitious hydroelectric project going on in their own back yard, on ancestral land. Nobody asked them for permission to do this.

At the time, there was no real political infrastructure in place in the eleven communities. There were no formal organizations in and among communities and there had never been any discussions with politicians or developers.

In 1972, at a meeting in Kuujjuaq, the Northern Quebec Inuit Association was formed (NQIA). Initially the organization was trying to figure out exactly what was going on. As mentioned, neither the developers or government had made any attempt to contact the Inuit or the Cree people. Zebedee mentions that when they saw a map of Canada, it was a “solid red wall of colonialism.”

The indigenous people felt powerless. They had no expertise in negotiating. They felt powerless going up against power and wealth. When they finally mobilized and met with people from the south, they were treated with disrespect. The developers and politicians didn’t care about the rights, culture, language or environmental concerns of the Inuit and Cree.

At the time, most northern communities suffered from poverty and did not enjoy the same services afforded other citizens of Quebec.

The politicians and developers played hardball. It was hardly a level playing field as these groups were armed with a phalanx of lawyers and other professionals.

“We never slept for two year during the negotiations’” says Zebedee.

The goal of the Inuit was self- determination and self- government. They were told in no uncertain terms that there were only three levels of government (Federal, Provincial and Municipal) and that there wouldn’t be a fourth.

It was made clear by the proponents of the project that a few items were non-negotiable, those being extinguishment and surrender. The Indigenous people were forced to give up most of their historical rights and lands in exchange for better services in the northern communities. This caused a schism amongst the Inuit themselves as many disagreed with the Inuit negotiators. In many ways the Inuit leadership were between a rock and a hard place.

For a brief shining moment (one week) a judge halted construction on the site, recognizing Indigenous rights, but his decision was hastily overturned.

The historic agreement, one of its first kind anywhere in the world, was signed on November 11, 1975.

During this time, in a move that can only be considered hubris, the Quebec government decided that Indigenous communities needed new French names. Over time, these communities have reverted back to their original names.

Disagreements and hard feelings exist to this day in Inuit communities. Some people have never forgiven their negotiators for giving away so much.

People of the north have suffered so much trauma at the hands of colonizers over the centuries. These are well documented, but many people don’t know that there still exists internal trauma as a result of the signing of the JBNQA. A meeting was held in 2014 to discuss a healing process. To date, nothing has come out of these meetings to heal long standing wounds.

In a recent letter to Prime Minister Trudeau, the Honorable Charlie Watt O.Q. and president of Makivik a, urged the P.M. to take action. “We Inuit and other Indigenous Canadians continue to feel the weight of colonialism. It remains ingrained in the administration of provinces and the confederation. Promises made fade from view within the government machinery. The non-Indigenous population doesn’t notice, but we do, and we look for the political will to make your intentions a reality. Mr. Prime Minister, the time is right for Canada to make a clean break with its colonial past.” (October 19,2020)

The Inuit want self- determination. They want to preserve their heritage. They want to protect their culture, their language, their identity.

It’s not a big ask when one considers that they were here first.

Have a great weekend.

Posted on November 5, 2020 under Thursday Tidbits with one comment

Preparing for my next self-isolation

 

Do you ever feel like you are losing track of time? The days blend into each other, as do the weeks and the months. The seasons come and go at breathtaking speed. And let’s not even discuss the years. Can anyone explain this phenomenon?

This was brought home to me in rather embarrassing fashion last week. As I have stated before in this space, grocery shopping in the north is interesting. Everything that most of us consume has to be flown in. The exception is ‘country food’ (caribou etc.), food from the sea (arctic char, beluga) , and berries when they are in season. As I write this piece, school is shut down due to a fierce storm. There won’t be any berry picking today!

People from home are surprised when I tell them that most times, the two local grocery stores are well stocked with all the necessities of life, including fresh fruits and vegetables.  Prices can fluctuate but most of the things I need at the Coop and the Northern stores don’t cost me an arm and a leg. Occasionally, there are shortages of some staples and this is often as a result of planes not being able to land here because of poor weather.

In addition to the local grocery stores, many people get groceries shipped up from Montreal. It is a simple matter of going online and placing an order. It generally takes 4-5 days for your grocery order to arrive by plane.

Generally.

Christmas is coming and there is a great deal of discussion here and everywhere else in the country around Christmas plans, especially travel. While it is not etched in stone, it would appear that me and my colleagues from the south will be permitted to leave for the holidays. The caveat is that we will once again have to quarantine upon our return in early January. This will be my third quarantine and likely not my last. If the Atlantic Bubble remains in place, going to Nova Scotia for the festive season won’t be an option… unless I am going for a world record for quarantining. Can you imagine? Fly home and quarantine for two weeks then get back on a plane and quarantine for two more weeks in the north. Even I am not that far gone to consider that scenario.

In preliminary discussions with school officials, we are being told to stock up on food in anticipation of our 2-week self- isolation in January. I have taken this to heart and my freezer is starting to fill up as well as the cupboard housing my baking supplies.

Once a person has placed a grocery order from down south, they receive a confirmation of the order. A few days later, they receive an e-mail confirming that the order has been filled and that it left the airport in Montreal. A  waybill is attached for tracking purposes. Most times, all of ones groceries arrive on the same plane but it is not uncommon for things to get shuffled around and you might get some of your boxes one day and the others a few days later.

As mentioned earlier, the days and weeks are a blur. You may recall that last Friday was Halloween Eve. If you remember Halloween as a child or if you have taught school, you know that Halloween is a high octane, high sugar event. It is a day all about survival.

Anticipating this, I ordered some Halloween ‘treats’ in my grocery order. I don’t mean candy and potato chips. We are allowed to purchase modest amounts of adult beverages every two weeks through the grocery store down south.

On that particular Friday morning, I was very surprised when our maintenance guys, who had gone to the airport to pick up parcels for the school, arrived with three of my four grocery boxes. Normally, teachers have to go to the airport to pick their own boxes. And typically, groceries don’t arrive as quickly as this order did. (3 days) It must have been some kind of record. As the energy level in the school rose incrementally throughout the day, so did my interest in putting up my feet after school and having a cold one.

You will note that I said three of four boxes. When I got home, I discovered that the box most coveted hadn’t arrived. But fear not. The first three boxes arrived on an early morning flight and surely the fourth box, the wayward child, would arrive on the suppertime flight. I hopped in one of the school trucks and made the short five- minute drive to the airport. The plane arrived and I watched with great anticipation as the airport crew unloaded dozens of boxes from the cargo hold of the plane. Tragically (!) mine wasn’t one of them. I presented my waybill to one of the staff members. He carefully typed in the number three times. “Sorry. We have no record of this waybill and have no way of tracking your missing box.”

I am rarely despondent but, on this occasion, I must admit that I was disappointed. I went back home and fired off an e-mail to the grocery store. It was afterhours and I wasn’t expecting an answer.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. I reached into my Halloween stash of candy (to be handed out the following evening) and started to eat mini chocolate bars by the fistful. I was quite startled when I received a message back from the grocery store. They indicated that I had not ordered alcohol in my order. There are very few absolutes in this world (with the exception of Swedish vodka – slightly different spelling!). I am quite certain than anyone of you living in some remote corner of the world would remember clearly if you had placed a booze order.

The following morning as I sipped on my first coffee of the day, I reviewed the events of the past 24 hours. I went and grabbed the grocery list that I had tendered a few days earlier. I realized that there were several other items missing. It was then that I realized that the groceries I had received were from the previous week’s list. I went shuffling through my papers and found the previous week’s order. These boxes had not come early as I had thought but were several days late! Later in the day, they called me from the airport to tell me that there were boxes arriving on the evening flight.

In short order, I had received two weeks of groceries including my precious cargo.

I hope that this is just a case of working too hard and not that slippery slope towards memory loss.

“Time is on my side, yes it is,

Time is on my side, yes it is.”

Time is on My Side. The Rolling Stones

Or is it?!

Have a great weekend.