One year "north-iversary"...

Today marks my one year anniversary as a Northerner. Last year at this time, I packed my bags, about 50 boxes, and moved north, stopping in Edmonton, Inuvik, and eventually Tuktoyaktuk which would soon be "home, sweet home." Rather than writing a long essay on what I did over the past year, I've put together a point form list of random thoughts on my experience so far:

-Moved to the North on September 16th, and soon after, Tuk went through a period of intermittent but lengthy power outages. This really made me doubt the infrastructure, and ultimately my safety in the North, and at times I thought about writing "return to sender" on all of my boxes and high tailing it back south. However, when the power is out the planes don't run, and thus I had to stick it out.

-On the subject of planes, I may have one of the largest carbon footprints of anyone I know. By my count, this year included 96 takeoffs and landings, which might explain the persistant ache in my ears. Ironically, most of the flights are in the name of bettering our environmental management policy.

-I am finally getting used to Northern time, meaning that if you say you'll meet someone somewhere at a certain time, there's no point in even leaving home until 10 minutes after said time. As a general rule of thumb, if the person shows up you're lucky, and there's no such thing as "late."

-My job has provided me with opportunities that I otherwise would have had to pay tens of thousands of dollars to experience, or more likely, would never have had the chance to do. Not everyone has the opportunity to observe wolves, belugas, moose, fox, bald eagles, muskrat, while carrying out their daily work. Not everyone gets to drive on the same road the "Ice Road Truckers" do. And, not everyone gets to travel to communities far off the beaten path with the opportunity to learn about the local culture and traditions.

-I am getting over my fear of fish!! For twenty-five years I H-A-T-E-D even the thought of fish. In fact, other than wolves, fish were probably my greatest fear. However, in a community where fishing is a way of life, and there is not much else to do on a warm summer weekend, fish and fishing have grown on me. I think it helps that it is approximately as easy as pie to catch a monstrous fish by southern standards!

-Life in the North isn't as hard as people think. Sure, it can be frustrating to not have everything at my beck and call, but I think that I am happy with enjoying luxuries, like eating at restaurants or going to a mall, on an occassional basis when I am back in the south.

-Having no school commitments is a DREAM COME TRUE. After 20 or so years of school, torturous school, I am finally free. The day that I put my thesis in the mail with my final corrections made, it felt like a five thousand pound weight was lifted off of my shoulders. At the same time, I felt a bit panicky, as though I suddenly had no goals or deadlines to work towards. That feeling passed VERY quickly on my first weekend of freedom, when I simply sat down to watch TV without that previously ever-present feeling of guilt hanging over my head. And that is when I decided that I could, in fact, live without being a student.

-The fact that I am no longer a grad student, combined with the fact that I am living in a location with very few forms of entertainment has allowed me to get back to doing the things that I enjoy: reading, crafts, and cooking. I've also taken on some new hobbies, like cake decorating and have tried my hands at some Northern crafts (although the rabbit mitts did not turn out so well!).

-There is a big difference between minus twenty degrees, which we sometimes experience in TOronto, and minus thirty, which is typical in the North. Minus thirty is dang cold. However, there is no real difference between minus fourty and minus fifty degrees... Either way, your face feels like if you were to touch it your skin might just shatter, and if you breathe in too deeply your lungs might just freeze. These are the days when it is best just to stay indoors... and these are the days that make minus thirty feel like a lovely day for a walk outside.

-NEVER buy things that are on sale at the Northern Store. I fell for that trick only once. There is no such thing as a sale in the North... there is however, such a thing as the Northern trying to sell off products that are out of date. I think selling packaged lunchmeat or milk at a discount when they are month expired might not fly in the south... In the North, anything goes apparently. *Exception* I will buy Cornflakes that are only a month out of date, especially if they are marked down to $2.99 from $10.99... Honestly, I'm sure most of us have at least some out of date cereal in our pantries, now don't we? And you would snack on it if you were hard pressed, now wouldn't you?

-I can't give every puppy in town a loving home. Unfortunately, there are far more dogs born in the North than there are people to care for them. When I first moved to Tuk, I did what I could to try to help various pups... however, after my third "puppy season" in town, I realize that there are just too many to be able to help them all. However, I can still continue to buy them sardines, dog food and take them for walks when I encounter them!

-There is nothing quite like knowing the food that you eat came from pristine, untouched land. You can't get more organic than picking berries from the tundra, eating muskox who have grazed on Banks Island, or catching fish from the Arctic Ocean. And, with the price of food in the North, there is nothing more satisfying than harvesting a "free meal" from the land.

-The North allows young people a tremendous amount of job experience and growth, which is invaluable, especially in our current economy. I feel very lucky to have the job that I do, and to be given the responsibilities that I have. Furthermore, at this point I don't really consider the isolation and harsh environment to be "negative"... they are part of the experience, and I am getting paid to experience them!

-24 hours of daylight might just drive me batty. I can deal with 24 hours of darkness with absolutely no problem. I really don't mind waking up to darkness, working through darkness, and coming home, putting on my pyjamas, lighting some candles, and enjoying the darkness. It makes me feel warm and cozy. 24 hours of daylight on the other hand, makes me feel I would imagine, how being on drugs would feel. You want to sleep, but it's so bright out that your body thinks it should be awake. You are busy doing chores, and you look at the clock and it's 11:30pm, and you think it can't possibly be past 8pm. You finally get to sleep from sheer exhaustion, but have to get up to go to the bathroom... and the sun is a high noon, bidding you good morning... 3 in the morning. In short: bring on the darkness!

-(This one comes from the fact that I am writing this as I sit in my hotel room in Aklavik) Aklavik is as noisy to sleep in as Toronto. I don't know what it is with this town (of 500)... but do they ever sleep? At all hours of the night there are bulldozers, people yelling down the street, cars tooting horns, people using pressure washers, the list goes on. And when everything finally quiets down for the night, the ravens are at it, tap dancing across the roof. That said, Aklavik is my favourite community to visit for work.

-I miss red leaf lettuce, barbequed meat, the occassional Diet Coke (rations recently ran out and I refuse to buy 12 more for $24), and ice cream that doesn't cost $18.99 for 2L. A year ago however, I wouldn't have realized that with a little effort, I can make my own fresh bread in the bread machine, grow and harvest my own herbs, freeze bagfuls of fresh berries, and improvise when a recipe calls for something that is impossible to acquire in the North.

Cheers to a successful first year, and hopefully a few more to come!

Goals for the upcoming year: see a polar bear, grizzly bear, (take a firearm safety course), see a caribou, go skating outdoors in October, catch a fish while ice fishing, drive the Dempster from Inuvik-Whitehorse, or maybe even further, grow a thriving cake business, learn to jig, and, perhaps during my third summer in the North I will finally be able to pick and eat an elusive ukpik (cloudberry).