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I asked an Inuit hunter why he hunted.

4/30/2014

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His response was short: "It's natural."

When I was a child my father used to catch frogs and bring them home to me for an evening before letting them go the next day (SPOILER ALERT: I soon realized why prolonged visits were not sustainable). I remember looking forward to the white bucket he'd leave for me in the backyard, filled with new playmates.

One day, I decided these creatures deserved environmental enrichment and that a white bucket of water was no place for a wildling. I scooped one lucky contender up and placed him in a salad bowl (sorry fam, we still eat out of this bowl) filling it with all sorts of hand-picked leaves, berries and twigs that I could find (is it possible to pick without hands though?). I was called in for dinner, and left buddy in his new home on a picnic bench for a short break. When I returned, he was lifeless. Something that I couldn't (and still can't) describe that once glowed within him was gone.

So often we think we know what is best for someone, some thing, some animal, when we don't know anything at all. Our lack of wisdom and/or experience can sometimes cause more harm than our original intention--to do the opposite.

A wise man once asked me, "When a dog or a cat approaches you, what do you do? When you hold a bird in the palm of your hand, what do you feel?"

When a dog or cat approaches you, you touch it. When you hold a live bird (or frog) in your hand, you feel something--connected, beautiful, special...whatever you want to call it. These things happen and you can't explain why or how, but you just know this is what you do.

It's natural.









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threaten his manhood

4/9/2014

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How to make him flee, screaming like a girl:

1. Write your name in the snow using Naptha
2. All eyes on him if/ when he arrives (if you're near Arviat it won't take long)
3. Send your name in flames and bask in the heat of glory 

Caution: Based on recommendation. They are not all born the same. If you lose a limb over this you need to work on--you should've worked on--your calligraphy skills.
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ARGHVIAT

4/7/2014

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Arrived on Friday. Upon de-boarding the plane I was told my bag didn't make it and is in Rankin Inlet, but will make it through Whale Cove on Sunday.

It's Monday. Current forecast: 60km/hr winds, 0.2m visibility, -42deg windchill. Flights were cancelled all weekend due to, well, the impossibility of landing a plane if you can't see 200m in front of you. 

The phone-answering designate at the Arviat airport might be of interest to anyone who wants to hear "no idea" and an immediate hang-up as a response to any question. It's worthwhile if you want to test your ability to stay positive. Calling the Rankin Inlet airport requires me to procure a long-distance phone card (as my phone won't dial out), and to get one requires trecking across the tundra in this god-forsaken weather hoping you don't end up in the middle of the ocean somewhere. With these winds and visibility, any navigation plan one might have to the nearest Co-op store, in a town you've never been to, is also cancelled due to, well, the impossibility of heading toward something more than 200m in front of you.

My lovely sister has been acting surrogate via telephone. There are maybe 5 different phone numbers listed online for Rankin that don't work. Whale Cove says to call airline. Airline says to call airport.

I feel better:

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wampas on hoth

4/4/2014

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A couple of snow troopers showed me how to clean a wampa hide in sea water (FYI, wampas are legally harvested based on an informed quota system and usually involves collaborations with the Old Republic, where samples are collected as an ongoing monitoring program).

It's like crushing grapes.

The hide is then tied to the back of a snowspeeder, hauled out across the ice, fleshed, and dried. The fleshing out process alone takes about 5-9 hours (longer for a better hide) with no breaks; rotting meat in room temperature for extended hours would not be a good look. 

A tooth is also extracted so that the wampa can be aged. 

It's like counting tree rings.

When I left Kimmirut today I thought I was going to die. I'd much rather break my back on a kamotik and have my face slapped for 5 hours by Frosty than fly in a Twin Otter again; you really don't know what flying in turbulence feels like until you're being blasted through the air in a sardine can.

Oh, and a few things about Kimmirut:
- It looks like a heel ("Kimmirut").
- It has The Bay (est. 1909, along with a church of the same age).
- It's wind will keep you inside, but you can always sew pualuks and watch Star Wars to pass time.
- It's tides shift daily. You can hear the ice cracking and shifting. Maker's Mark on the rocks.



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