When dark and night are not the same

Sunset from the back deck, November 24, 2:25 pm.

It is becoming more and more obvious that "the long night is coming" (Game of Thrones, for all the not-nerd normies out there). I find myself getting hungry earlier in the afternoon.  Clearly my brain has been conditioned to think that a certain amount of darkness means its time to eat.  No matter how you slice it though, 3:30pm is NOT time for the last meal of the day.

Sunset over the backyard.

Mornings are, for now, still easy enough.  Sunrise is around 8:30, which means the sky starts to brighten around 7:30.  The bad news is the kids are still bouncing awake bright and early.  The other bad news is they are completely exhausted and thinking its bedtime by 5pm.  If we let them go to sleep this early, we'd have bright-eyed and bushy tailed children running around at 4am.  So, we deal with "normal" mornings (are mornings ever normal?), and grumpy/hyper/over-tired after-evenings. (Footnote: an after-evening is when the darkness starts just after lunch and keeps going.  I coined the term myself.  Cute, right?)

One of the problems with the darkness coming so early is that, to make up for it, we tend to turn on all the lights in the house and pull down the shades.  "What's the problem with that?", you might be thinking.  On the surface, nothing.  But having lights switched on nice and bright all afternoon/evening trying to make up for the lack of sun carries its own problems.

Captain Jack coming home off the bus in early November.

In order for our brains to get ready for sleep, we produce a hormone called melatonin.  Melatonin production in the brain is triggered by darkness, which usually happens gradually throughout the evening.  By keeping our home bright all afternoon and evening, and then suddenly turning everything off (BOOM!) when its time to go to bed, we are expecting our brains to suddenly produce this sleep-inducing hormone like flipping a switch.  Our brains don't work that way.  So, ironically, you lay awake at night unable to sleep because it has been too bright inside (because it was dark outside) for too long.

Sunset over frozen Frobisher Bay. 

So let's say you don't turn all your lights on to chase away the dark, and allow things to happen naturally.  This will likely mean that you feel extremely tired around, say, 5pm-- a couple of hours after the sun goes down.  That doesn't work for most of us. We push through until a normal time to sleep, at which points our brains may be confused and wide awake again. Melatonin production too early or too late in the day can also lead to Seasonal Affective Disorder.  (source)

We love this stuff.
source

One solution we are trying is to dim the lights at a predictable time each evening, around 6:30pm.  This becomes our artificial "twilight" at home.  Screens are turned off for the kids at this time too.  We play soft music, and try to induce a feeling of "almost bedtime".  Also, Coraline takes melatonin supplements (Captain Jack still knocks out as soon as his head hits the pillow.).

Faux daylight.

Faux evening. The difference is less subtle in real life.

Another issue with the early darkness is a constant, nagging, feeling that you are "late" for something.  Oh no, I forgot I told Fargo I'd call him at 7:00!  Oh wait, its only 4:00.  Oh my gosh!  Where are the kids? Oh right, at school.  Its only for a split-second, but it is somewhat unsettling.

View from the backyard looking across the lake to the city.

It also drives Captain Jack and Coraline crazy that they are no longer allowed to play outside after school, something they used to do daily.  They have constructed a fort on the tundra with found "treasures", and love to explore the changes along the lake.  No way are they going to be allowed to wander the tundra in darkness, even if they wanted to.  Forget the danger of polar bears, just slipping on the rocks and ice could result in a sprained ankle or worse. Also, the lake seems to be a snow-mobile highway.  When its light out I assume a) the kids will be careful, and b) drivers will see them.  In the dark? Nope.

So, they go a little stir-crazy during the week. Our rule on the weekend is "No TV or other screen time while the sun is shining".  Unless it is frost-bite cold, the kids bundle up in their parkas and snow pants and play outside.

Out on the tundra playing.

An early photo of the fort before the snow fell. 

BTW: for all of you who saw the last blog post with the boring title "Iqaluit Humane Society" and did NOT click on the link, you totally missed out! Ha ha! I tricked y'all with that generic headline! (Insert evil laugh here.)  The post should have been titled "Where did all these kittens come from?".  If you missed it, go back and take a look here.  (Update: kittens and momma are doing just fine.) Be warned: I may do this again in the future...so be wary.......

Next up: Gosh! What do you guys want to learn about? How many know what an amauti is?  Do you want to find out? Show of hands please!

Iqaluit Humane Society

Iqaluit Humane Society

When JJ first came up to Iqaluit 10 years ago the city had just made national headlines for having its first humane society. For having a small population of people, Iqaluit has a very large population of dogs. For years, lack of veterinary care meant it wasn't possible to spay or neuter any dogs born up here, unless you were lucky enough to nab a coveted appointment when veterinary students came up to do a weekend spay/neuter clinic a once or twice a  year.  This meant LOTS of dogs running the streets. JJ made a point during his month in 2007 of visiting this new animal shelter.

He came home talking about the lack of resources, the wonderful work the volunteers were doing, and how many strays were still running around the city. The Humane Society still takes in roughly 25 dogs a month (they only have room for 20), sending most of them to Ottawa where they are fostered or adopted.  (A local airline--FirstAir--helps by donating free flights to these dogs.)

Taken from their Facebook page.

Being an animal lover myself, I decided to check out the shelter and fill out a form to volunteer.  While I was there I asked about the cats they take in.  I didn't expect there would be many: unlike the dogs up here, many of whom are bred for the cold like huskies, cats don't survive long outdoors.  To my surprise, there were 2 cats at the shelter that day. One was a big, confident calico.  The other, the shelter worker was slightly reluctant to show me.  Her chart was marked "unfriendly".  It showed that she had been brought in about 6 weeks before.  Location found? "Outside."  The girl working there told me "She's very timid, and mostly hides in her basket.  She doesn't even eat if she's being watched."  I was intrigued.  "Can I see her anyway?" I asked.  The shelter worker's tune changed immediately.  "Yes, of course!" She said.  "No one ever wants to see the scared cats who hide."  She brought the little cat down in her basket (hidden under a blanket).  She was COVERED in dirty, matted fur.  It was so matted, in fact, that it was difficult to find a place to stroke her and not worry that it might hurt. But those eyes..... I have aways been a sucker for hard-luck cases, so of course I fell in love.

Look at that face!

I texted JJ that afternoon. "Saw this adorable little kitty today.  I think she needs us." JJ, who is used to me bringing home strays by now, went back out with me that evening to meet the cat.  I then went back in twice more to snuggle and get to know this little critter, to be absolutely sure she would be a good fit for our family.  Each time I went she seemed more and more friendly.  She never hissed at me--not once, even when I picked her up out of her basket.  By the end of my second visit she was butting her head against my hand when I paused in petting her.

Two weeks after I first saw her, we brought this little lady home.  We wrestled over what to call our little black beauty.  Shadow? Too common.  Shade? Cool, but a boy's name. Spooky? Not feminine.  Spook? Racist. (I always thought a "spook" was a spy, but I was quickly corrected by multiple people.) We settled on Freya, a good Norse name that seemed to suite our climate (plus one of my favourite games, World of Warcraft, has a character named Freya).

This was the most her head lifted up from her basket.

I noticed the first day we had her at home her belly was very big, and very firm.  To complicate things, the local vet has, at least temporarily, disappeared.  Her staff are not sure when she will be back. Without a vet in town we were unable to get her vaccinated, tested for disease, or even have a proper physical exam done. I started looking into causes of big, hard bellies in cats and decided I might need to find some de-wormer medication online (worms are common in shelter cats).  Also, a change of diet might be called for.

Can anyone guess what happened next? Really? Anyone?

We usually invite medical residents over to our home for dinner at least once during their rotation here in the north.  Its a cold, lonely place when you have no family up here.  The residents typically stay for 6 weeks, which is a long time to stay in a temporary apartment with strangers for roommates.  About the same time Brian, the resident, was knocking on our door to join us for a home-cooked meal, Coraline came running up the hallway.  "Mommy!" she shouted.  "Freya is making really weird sounds!  She is meowing really high pitched!"  I rolled my eyes at the drama.  "Really, Coraline?" I sighed, in the middle of browning pork tenderloin. I moved the pan off the burner on the stove and walked down the hall.  I peeked in on the cat in her crate (where she is being separated from Mylo until she is vet-checked and they are used to each other) and saw, and heard.......a very tiny, wet, vocal black kitten.

"#**&^%", I thought.

Taken 24 hours after kittens were born.

"Um......Hi Brian! Come on in and sit down,  I'll be out in a few minutes.  I, uh..... just need to check to see if the cat is still having contractions."  

Normally when you KNOW you have a pregnant cat you get x-rays or an ultrasound done to see how many kittens to expect.  We are "surprise!" kitten parents, so we had no idea how many kittens to expect. We had to watch every hour to make sure Freya either delivered a kitten, or stopped having contractions.  If she kept having contractions with no kittens appearing, that's "bad".

The shelter was fantastic.  I had Chany, the person in charge of cats, on the phone with me within minutes. My first question was, why the heck wasn't Freya doing something with this kitten? It was 2 feet away from her, crying, being completely ignored while she hid in her basket. Chany stayed calm and talked me through picking up the kitten, wiping it off with a warm cloth, and presenting it to Freya to clean. Luckily, Freya figured out what to do from there. Chany then drove over (they still do house calls in the north) to check things out. She came back AGAIN three hours later to bring extra linen to put down in the crate.

Encouraging Freya to care for the first kitten minutes after it was born.

In the span of 48 hours we went from having one cat (our loyal, steadfast Mylo) to having FIVE. 

24 hours later with the same kitten.

A happy Freya kneads with her paws and purrs while
cuddling her kittens.

This is what comes of adopting a cat from a shelter in a town where the vet periodically disappears. I'm just relieved she didn't have anything sinister causing that big belly. When the kittens are old enough, the human society will take them and find appropriate adopters (kittens, unlike fully-grown cats, get adopted very quickly). In the meantime, I'm still hoping the vet returns to town so we can get everyone checked out and make sure they are healthy.

Bonus points if you can spot all 3 black kittens against their black
mother.

Over the course of the evening I finished cooking (dinner actually turned out OK, much to my surprise), and everyone got to eat.  The kids LOVED getting to see the kittens being born, and of course are now in the process of naming them. The evening turned into a game of crib (Brian is a card shark, turns out...), and a quiet night.

Aside from the occasional "mew".

Oh, and Freya? Turns out the name comes from the Norse "Freyja", goddess of love and fertility.

Astro Theatre

The Astro Hill Complex. home to a hotel, convenience store,
restaurant, bar, conference centre, and movie theatre. Tallest building in the city.
(source)

Main doors. Turn left to go to the movie theatre.
Frobisher Inn

Inside the Astro Complex, just down the hall from reception at the Frobisher Inn, is a not quite hidden gem.  The "Astro Theatre" is a surprising taste of home.  It actually shows first run movies!  That's right, if its currently playing in the theatre in Toronto or New York, its playing up here!  Well, more or less.  With only 2 screens, not every movie makes it up here, and those that do are only here for a short time (like, a week). So if you want to see something, you need to see it fast. The schedule only comes out a day or two ahead of time, so you don't get much time to plan. (JJ and I saw Atomic Blonde playing only a few weeks after it came out in Thunder Bay!) Bonus: they also show local movies or independent films having to do with the north.  

You buy your tickets at the window just inside the door to the right.
(photos from astrotheatre.ca)

The rest of the photos are from the website, but I had to take
this one.  The theatre tickets are just too cool.

The tickets are those old-school tear away tickets that you generally only see nowadays used for 50/50 fundraisers at kids' sporting events and bingo halls.  Also, the napkins?  You just rip your own off a giant roll of brown paper towel.  Its awesome!

If you look carefully you can see the paper towel roll on the counter
to the right.  Awesome, right?

The concession stand sells drinks, candy, popcorn, hot dogs, nachos, poutine, and slushies.  Its cash only, but there's an ATM just outside in the hall, run by NunaCASH.  (I laughed out loud when I saw that.  Get it?  Nunavut? NunaCASH?  This place cracks me up.)

Like I said before, there are only 2 screens.  One theatre seats 115 people, the other only 60. Apparently they have 3D capability, but I haven't seen a 3D movie here yet.  The theatres are small and intimate, with great sound.  They show matinees on Sundays that are popular with parents and kids, especially when its rainy or cold. 

I'm super pumped! This means I'll get to see the new Star Wars movie while we're up here.  See The Last Jedi I will, even if it means camping in the hotel hallway outside the theatre for hours to make sure I get in. (That first part of the previous sentence is said in my Yoda voice, in case you didn't catch it.)

We don't have a babysitter up here, and our darling Coraline insists she would feel terribly uncomfortable being left with a "stranger".  JJ and I are not about to stay home every evening.  That leaves us with one alternative: bring the kids with us!  So that's exactly what we did last week.  JJ was invited through work to watch a movie about delivering medical care in developing countries. (The movie was called Bending the Arc.)  Our darling children were thrilled about accompanying us on a "date night", until they realized they would be watching a documentary about tuberculosis, AIDS, and ebola care in impoverished countries.  

I thought we'd be seeing "Thor: Ragnarok".

"What exactly IS tuberculosis?"

Anything is better with poutine.

Packed house.

The kids drowned their disappointment in sugary drinks and popcorn, and in the end handled themselves quite well.  I'm not so sure they'll be keen to join us on our next date night! (Don't worry, we'll take the kids to see Justice League or some other "fun" movie soon.)

Up next: the adventure continues with the Iqaluit Humane Society.

A visitor!

I've only been here since August, and its now mid-November. That doesn't seem like a very long time.  That said, things that were once foreign to me seem very common place.  For instance, tonight I bought a pie.  I didn't go to the grocery store or bakery, I bought the pie (or rather JJ bought the pie) "Iqaluit style".  An ad came up on Facebook, I said to JJ "Oh, look, pie!" I texted him the house number, and off he went to pick it up.

There is no WAY I would have purchased a homemade pie from some stranger on the internet before coming here.  I mean, what if that person was some weirdo trying to lure me into their house? Plus, who knows what's in that pie?

Now, however, buying something from a complete stranger on Facebook feels.....normal. 

JJ showed up at this lady's home and took a pie.  He knew it was the right place because of all the cars parked on the street in front of her house (word in town spreads fast when it comes to homemade baked goods).  Her little dog greeted everyone as they walked in (without knocking, because, like the ad says, she's on crutches) and bought their pies. We are saving it for dessert tomorrow when we have a guest joining us for a few days!  Yay! Company!

Coraline has been figure skating for a few years now, and has developed a special bond with her coach.  (For blogger purposes, we'll call her "Coach C".) Coraline has really been missing Coach C, and has been struggling trying to feel like a member of the local figure skating club.  

Coach C is coming to visit for 5 days.  She'll be working with Coraline at the arena every day.  Even better, she'll be working with the other skaters too!  I can't think of a better way for Coraline to bond with the skaters at her new club.  

A thrilled Coraline with Coach C in the background.

She's here! Coach C arrived Monday. Watching her enjoy her trip here has been fantastic. Seeing her perspective on everything made me realize all over again that we really are living somewhere special.

There is a hunter who lives down the road from us.  I have driven or walked past him countless times doing average "Nunavut hunter" things quite often.  He has stored frozen freshly killed seals buried in snow and covered with wood boards under his home. He has constructed a qamutiik by hand in the front yard.  

Qamutiiks like this one are quite common.
They are constructed by hand with wood and rope, and
pulled behind snowmobiles or by sled dogs.

The day we drove Coach C home from the airport he was in the yard chopping the last frozen seal into bits with an axe, surrounded by a gaggle of children watching him.

I pointed out this scene to Coach C, thinking it was a little taste of local flavour. She immediately said "I NEED A PICTURE!" so I stopped the car.  Coach C jumped out and dashed over to get a great shot, capturing another small part of life in north.

Coach C (far right) watching the seal get
butchered to feed the huskies.

The photo she posted on Facebook that evening.

We went out to dinner Coach C's first night here.  Of course, artists came around selling their wares.  We saw jewelry and a carved polar bear.  I bought a pair of sterling silver ulu earrings.

Coraline modelling my new earrings at the table.

Tuesday: The next day we took a trip to Sylvia Grinnell (sp) Territorial Park.  An acquaintance of mine told me about an arctic survival course he had been taking, and said they had recently constructed some igloos at the park.  We pulled into the parking lot, and there they were.

Just looking wasn't enough for JJ.

A dog sled team even drove past us one day as we were driving out of the territorial park.

Dog sled at the park.

JJ and Coach C standing on ice in Frobisher Bay.

Wednesday: No trip to the north is complete with shopping. My mother arrived on Wednesday, so my company overlapped!  The three of us (me, Coach C, and my mother) spent an afternoon shopping for local handcrafted items at the museum, Nunavut Collectibles, and Carvings Nunavut.  We saw animal skulls, stone carvings, jewelry, clothing, paintings and drawings, carved bones, sealskin items, and even a pair of polar bear hide boots.

Shopping: polar bear boots, sealskin boots.

Stone and bone carvings.

Buying caribou (tuktu) for Coach C to take home while she was on the ice
coaching figure skaters.

Coach C experienced much of what makes life up here unusual: igloos, art, watching a seal get butchered....  She also enjoyed coaching the figure skaters from the local figure skating club, many of whom took time off of school to join her for two hours at the rink every morning. The skaters LOVED her. 

Friday: Today Coach C is heading home.  She is taking with her a little carved polar bear statue, frozen smoked arctic char, caribou meat, handmade Christmas decorations, and a surprise for her daughter (caribou skull!).  We will all miss her (especially Coraline). Have a safe trip home, Coach!

Bird's Eye View and Rock Carvings

Hello everyone!  I figured out how to put longer videos in my posts!  How cool is that?

I immediately thought of my blog-y-verse when I saw this drone footage of Iqaluit. It shows the city and surroundings, and really helps to put things into perspective.  (Not to mention make a person realize just how isolated from the rest of the world this place really is.) The drone footage shows the vast, cold, emptiness of the tundra.  There is nothing but snow, ice, and rocks for miles, and then suddenly there is this tiny city plunked down in the middle of it.

And yet.....what's really neat is here I am sitting on my couch in this tiny, dark city, on a snow-covered island in the Arctic Ocean...and people in 10 different countries are reading what I'm writing!  There have been readers from Canada and the US (of course), but also Mexico, Pakistan, Norway, New Zealand, Thailand, Germany, Morocco, Philippines, and Chile (Hi Ann!).  Thanks readers!  Sometimes, the internet is good.

Not my photo, but a great shot of the city from the frozen bay.
Source.

Today I took my iPhone and went downtown to try to capture some of the beautiful rock carvings.  I didn't get pictures of everything, my fingers started to go numb and my phone battery dies quickly in the cold.  Plus, you only have decent lighting for a short period of time now that the sun sets so early. I parked at the post office, and just walked around.  Everything downtown is relatively close, although "relatively" depends on how cold it is outside.  Something 300 yards away may as well be a mile when its -30. Thankfully, today it was only -15. The first stone sculpture is outside the RBC building.

By Master Carvers Inuk Charlie, Paul Malliki, and Looty Piijamini.
The black plaque in the background says the sculpture
represents the beauty of the Inuit culture and "embodies our
tenacity, our spirituality, and tell the story of our history
and how far Inuit have come in Canada".

Raven catching a fish.

This looks like a mermaid to me. 

Whale and fish rock carving.

As you can see most of the buildings are constructed using siding (not wood or brick) and are somewhat industrial looking.  There are no "character homes" or "period buildings". Building materials have to be cheap, relatively light-weight for transport, and withstand gale force winds and polar temperatures.

There are a few Hudson's Bay buildings down along the waterfront near Apex that date from 1949.  I think everything downtown, however, was built relatively recently (think 1970's and later). Frobisher Bay (the former name of Iqaluit) wasn't officially even a "settlement" until 1970, and officially became a village in 1974. The first doctors and teachers didn't even get here until 1959.(source)

Polar bear carving outside the Arctic College building.

There really are carvings everywhere along the main road downtown.  There are also large boulders that have been made into benches, and some that are just artfully arranged outside buildings.  They blend in very well with the surroundings, and if you don't pay attention you'll miss them.

Inukshuk

Downtown you will find an office supply store, banks, the post office, government and office buildings, hair stylists, churches, an arena, City Hall, the aquatic centre, and souvenir shops.

What looks like just rocks from far away
turns out to be two Inuit people.

Polar bears frolicking downtown.

Tumiit plaza houses different businesses.  There is a chiropractic office, my hair stylist, a radio station, cell phone company, etc.  It is also home to Carvings Nunavut Inc., a shop that sells artwork made by various local artists.  The artists are paid on consignment.  Art includes small rock carvings, dyed pelts, paintings on canvas and paper, sealskin items, jewelry, and bone carvings. I bought my sealskin boots there.

Outside Tumiit Plaza.

Another view of the "face rock", and downtown
buildings in the background.

This grumpy face seems to reflect the feelings of
people waiting in line at the post office.

These are not all the carvings around town, not even close, but these photos give you a bit of the flavour of the downtown atmosphere.

Up next: not sure! School, igloos, dogsleds, could be anything! Stay tuned to find out.