1984 to 1996
My life with the Inuit communities
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| Me at Cambridge Bay on Victoria Island |
I had enjoyed my time at the school in northern Nigeria but I was getting a bit fed up with all the coups that kept happening. In 1984 I happened to be on leave in Canada when another coup took place. None of them lasted very long so I just waited until a new head of state emerged. While waiting in Alberta I received news from a Canadian friend, who had remained at the school, that my home was being ransacked by other teachers on the compound. I have no idea why they did it; maybe they thought I wasn’t going back.
When I finally returned to the school I attempted to speak with the principal but he was never available; It’s possible he knew what had happened and was too embarrassed to meet me. It was quite depressing, being in the house, full of dust and lizard droppings and with half my belongings missing. I therefore decided that it was most likely a sign that I should move on.
It was already late September, and I knew that most teaching jobs in Alberta would have already been filled. I happened to be talking to a Canadian lady who worked with a religious community in Kano and she said, “People often advise me to ask God to open a door. It doesn’t work for me; I ask Him to close every door but one.” I thought that was a novel way of looking at job hunting so I thought I’d give it a try once I got back to Alberta.
Normally, when looking for a job, I looked at the job description, salary, location etc., and if all struck a positive note I would apply. This time I decided to apply for every single job I saw, if I thought I could do it, and I would ignore all other aspects. One day, I was sitting having breakfast when the phone rang. “Would you be interested in working in Fort McPherson?” I said I would, even though I had no idea where it was. “Would you be interested in teaching business subjects to adults?” Again I said I would. The interview went on in this fashion, every time I gave a positive response I got another question. Finally, the man said, “Thank you, and I will be sending you the hiring package.” In my innocence I asked, “When is the interview?” He laughed and said, “You’ve just had it. We can’t afford to bring people up to the Arctic for interviews so we do it by phone.” The Arctic! I was flabbergasted. Once I got off the phone I found an atlas and saw where I was heading - up to the Arctic Circle. I never did get another offer, so the lady’s method worked.
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| Me practicing my Inuit drumming |
I remained in Fort McPherson for three years and then I moved south to the First Nations community of Fort Simpson, located on a tiny island in the McKenzie River. I stayed there for three years and my claim to fame was cooking for Madame Sauvé who was Canada’s Governor General. She had come up to the Northwest Territories to welcome Pope John Paul who had promised to return to the north to spend time with the First Nations people.
We teachers had volunteered to cook the food for the thousands of people who came by boat, plane and vehicle to celebrate mass with the Pope. Large metal drums were cut in half, placed on stands with a grill on top and my job was to cook caribou. At one point, two men approached me carrying trays of meat that they said was moose. They said I had to scrub the grill and cook the moose meat for the Governor General. Nobody came back to thank me for my efforts but I knew she had survived the meal as I saw her later in the day on television.
My final destination in the north was Cambridge Bay, one of only two communities on Victoria Island which is on the Northwest Passage and north of the Arctic Circle. Compasses wouldn’t work there as we were too close to the Magnetic North Pole. I stayed there for six years, moving from one grade to another, teaching anything that came along to the Inuit students. At one point I had to teach high school math which was quite a challenge as I’d failed math at Grammar School when I lived in England.
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| Untying Always and taking her for a walk |
“Always” was a big part of my time there. She was tied up all the time with the other sled dogs so I used to borrow her to go for a walk; I called her my rentadog. She was called Always because, as a puppy, she always peed when picked up. Out on the land she would run for miles and I could only get her back on the leash if I carried a hotdog. One February I was in the south, at a teachers’ convention, and I came back to find out she’d been shot. Unfortunately, she got away from where she’d been tied up and couldn’t be caught. There’s always a fear that dogs will get involved with the Arctic fox, who often have rabies, so the animal control man had to shoot her. I never have good luck with dogs!
In my sixth year, the Federal Government decided to give autonomy to the Inuit and First Nations people and so the territory of Nunavut was created. “Nunavut” in the Inuit language means “Our Land”. We teachers were told we had to buy the homes we had been renting. I was 59 years of age and I decided it was pointless buying the home when I would only stay one more year. I therefore decided to retire.
I still have my retirement gift; a vest with caribou appliquéd on it. There’s a significance to that. Earlier, the local folk had given me the Inuit name “Pangnaariuk” which they said meant, “Respected elder” but, if pronounced wrongly, it meant, “Male caribou in the rutting season.”
So a chapter ends and another one starts.
My Arctic Diary
All my diary entries about my time in the Arctic will eventually be uploaded to this blog and will be found by clicking on the location labels on the right, or on the links of archived posts for 1984 to 1996. I am still in the process of transferring my diary to this blog, so more will appear over time.
