Suicide is NOT the Answer

Life has been so seemingly peaceful here since I came to terms with the onslaught of winter. There has been a wave of serenity hovering over me. Perhaps it was sent by some divine power to keep me sane but regardless, through all the stresses of life lately I have been able to enjoy the days here. Katie and I have been settling in and enjoying the people, we even got an invite for dinner with the Captain and his crew from the sea lift barge. (which was another throw back to Southern life) Stephen went back to Arviat to hunt and be with family and the kids are settled in at day care. I was so looking forward to this Sunday, Katie is off today and she spent most of the day playing the guitar while the kids danced and I spent some time in the garage working on a pallet wood toy chest project I have created for Brody’s room.

No matter how peaceful we had hoped today would be, we went through the motions of the day with heavy hearts and the hope of distractions. Turns out we both turned to creative outlets to divert our thoughts.

For as long as I have been in the North I have been witness to the suffering that suicide brings. I am never truly surprised when I ask the cause of someone’s passing and the answer is suicide. Over the last couple of years it has been inspiring to see many Northerners band together against the tragedy of lives lost so pointlessly. With posts all over Facebook on Suicide Prevention Day dedicated to the souls that have passed, I realized just how many of my Northern friends (and family) have been burdened by the heart break of loss.

Last night a beautiful nineteen year old girl named Tina swallowed prescription drugs that weren't hers. When she showed up at our door it took me a few seconds to realize that she was outwardly in decent shape but that physically she was in trouble. I let her into the house and sat her down on our steps, held the bag for her to vomit in and wiped her face when she finished. With the intention of getting her to the health center, as she had requested, I opened our front door and found the officers that had come to help her. She reluctantly got into the truck and that was the last time I will ever see Tina. Today, just before they could medivac her to help, she passed away.

She caused her own death but I know that even after doing such a reckless and irresponsible thing, Tina didn't want to die, she wasn't ready to die. Some of her last words to me were, ‘take me to the health center.’

Today, there were a handful of things that ran on repeat through my mind. I stood in front of the stove and cooked through my tears, with every part of my brain wondering why they couldn't save her. Thinking about how her family and friends would never hear her voice again. Questioning why she did it. If she had of thought a little bit harder about the value of her life, perhaps I would see my neighbor leave her house tomorrow morning, perhaps she wouldn't have had to regret her actions when it was already too late.

While Katie and I dined with the Captain, Tina was here playing with our babies. When we came home, my sweet son was sleeping soundly against her chest, dreaming along to the beat of her heart.

Just a short while ago she was alive with promise, with opportunity for the future and like the drop of a hat her entire life has been cut short, ended, stopped.

The ease of losing a life is horrifying. The stabbing ache of realizing, again, how fragile life is, feels unbearable. It fills me with fear for the future, for the North, for the children.

Suicide is never the answer, ever. Life is a beautiful gift, even when it hurts, there is the promise of a happier day, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week, but there will always be light at the end of the tunnel.

If you happen to be reading this because you Google searched suicide and have been thinking that it might be your way out of a hard situation, please talk to someone you love. Please call someone; there are crisis lines that are waiting to listen, judgment free. Please message me; I will be there for you if you have no one to talk to because I believe that your life is precious. Suicide will never be the answer to your feelings of hopelessness but I think that hearing someone else’s voice and telling someone else what you are going through could help you clear your mind.

NWT Help Line

Serving Northwest Territories

Crisis 7pm-11pm (Mountain Standard Time) 7days/week: 1-800-661-0844

Yellowknife, NT X1A 2PG

Business: (867) 873-9903

email: nwthehelpline@mail.tamarack.nt.ca

website: www.nwthelpline.ca

Nunuvut

Awareness Centre

Nunavuat Kamatsiaqtut Help Line

Serving Nunavut and Nunavik (Arctic Quebec)

Crisis 7pm-11pm (Eastern Standard Time) 7days/week: 1-800-265-3333

Crisis 7pm-11pm (Eastern Standard Time) 7 days/week: (867) 979-3333

P.O. Box 419, Iqaluit, NU X0A 0H0

Business: (867) 979-2742

email: slevy@qikiqtani.edu.nu.ca

website: www.kamatsiaqtut.com

OR

Call Kids Help Phone: 1-800-668-6868

You are not alone

This is a pep talk

This is a pep talk, this is me (as I do sometimes) writing out a pros and cons list to remind myself of what overshadows my fears and discomforts. This is how I prep myself for what is to come. Thank God for this beautiful day. 

It takes merely a few seconds to miss the allure and charm of the North when one leaves it behind. Then upon return, it takes merely weeks to not only remember the isolation but feel the pang of it in your chest.

Katie and I spent some time over the weekend acquainting ourselves with a couple construction workers who had been working here for a couple of weeks and then got weathered in until Saturday. The feeling of satisfaction in finding company who bring with them the comfort and memories of the South, of home, is rare up here.

When I asked them if they were bored, they told us about the movies they had been watching and said, "aren't you?" Usually I would tell them of the many things to do here, but these weren't men who hadn't been keeping busy. My response was, "I'm used to it, I guess."

The truth is that my response was not entirely the truth. I had already been feeling that loneliness ebbing into my soul. It started snowing the morning we went over to spend some time with our snowed in guests. It snowed most of the day Saturday, and Sunday. Today it is Wednesday and the snow seems to have stopped. The small white patches on the ground are melting away slowly. The sun is out but then again the moon is too.

I dropped Brody off at Daycare to play with his friends for the afternoon, (It's free here!) and then I took a short walk. I cannot resist basking in the warm sun on a fresh-air kind of day. I walked to the top of a small hill, just on the edge of town. I looked down in the direction of the airport and saw white sheets off in the distance. I briefly doubted that they would ever melt away.

As I stood on that hill with civilization behind me, I noticed the quiet. I closed my eyes for what must have been five minutes. I heard the birds, noticing that even though so many had already migrated, there were the remaining birds that must be exceptionally brave. They tweeted and chirped and in that moment I was transported to exactly the spot I stood. I took the trip but the perfection of the very spot where my feet were grounded was so untouchable that there was nothing better my mind could conjure. I could feel the warmth of the sun coming and then leaving with the shallow gusts of cool wind. The winter is coming, the moon in the sky at noon proves this daunting fact. I am afraid. They call it the land of the midnight sun, but you don't hear many refer to it as the land of the noon time moon - which it truly is for the majority of the year.

I cannot tell you what it feels like to live in Northern Canada, under the blanket of darkness. The place you are taken is a dark one and sometimes when you lay alone in bed you can hear your lonely heart thrum as though alone inside a rusted and forgotten oil drum. Sealed away from the world until the ice thaws and freedom claws its way slowly inward and releases you. There is a longing that crawls beneath the surface of the skin, the nerves that crave human touch but know it will be so long until anything other than a parka hugs the body. Knowing these things are coming, and coming fast, has me a little bit nervous these days.

Seeing those construction men off on Saturday was like sealing the envelope and reality sank in. The plane was taking this short summer and the fun company it provided for one weekend with it.

I had the feeling that I wasn't entirely alone in my peace on that hill. The walls here, and in every small town, have eyes. I suspected there was a middle aged woman standing half hidden behind her curtains, wondering about the crazy new girl in town. As I turned and took barely fifteen steps in the direction of home, I heard a loud knocking from the living room window of the house I was passing. She was maybe three, more likely two, with dirty blond hair. She knocked and I waved as I walked, her returning wave accompanied by a brilliant smile. I got a little further and she knocked again, waving. It happened four more times, the last of which when I was nearly out of sight. She had to wave until the chance was gone, she had a hard time letting go of a fresh smile that had just walked through her day. I realized how much that little girl reminded me of my twenty-four year old self, our mentalities at least, are similar.

Just as a child, it pains me to say good-bye, to watch something brilliant or fun or new come to an end. In the arctic, this is magnified. Yet all it takes to restore my faith and to remind me of why and how I stay here to push through another winter, is one day. One day, where the sun shines like gold on the water and illuminates the smiles of every passer-by. One day where the weight of my parka hangs on a hanger and not on my shivering shoulders.

I cannot quite put into words the way that the Arctic is in itself an outrageous contradiction.

Soon, the Northern earth will welcome the embrace of the long, cold winter that it is so accustomed to. In these windows sit children who long for adventure and outside of my window will stand a woman who is braving this Northern earth to continue the adventure she has found.

The Worlds Most Northern Golf Course

I have never been golfing before, surprising as my fathers side of the family are avid golfers, every single one of them, aunts, uncles and cousins. When I spend time with them, an hour barely passes without some mention of the sport.

I may need to try it out at least once as this tiny town is home to the World's most northern golf course... or as the sign says, "The Worlds Most Northernly 9 Hole Golf Course in the World." I couldn't suppress a smile at the sight of said sign.

Note that this tiny town is also home to what feels like the Worlds strongest winds... I don't doubt that the winter here brings painful walking experiences. I'm not sure my ball would make it anywhere near my target point should I attempt it. I suppose you need to be the kind of avid golfer my father is to be able to account for the excessive strength of this northern wind and still golf a successful game.

Evening view from the 5th hole

 I hear that there is an annual celebrity golf tournament held here. I wonder who pays for the flights of those celebrities and if they come just to boast about playing the worlds most northern course?

As I walk these streets I can't help but think that this town and all of its inhabitants really know how to live the good life. They live a quiet life and though it may not be entirely free of dramatics, it isn't like Iqaluit with fist fights in the streets and a sell and swap Facebook page where people are posting daily, looking for things that have been stolen right out of their houses. The people here are genuinely kind, they smile and in ten out of twelve instances they stop to shake your hand and tell you who they are. The other two instances are just shy folks who will still offer a smile. I've met people and have been told afterwards, "You go to him when you need something fixed," or "He knows his way around anything that needs welding." Even, "He's the guy you need when there's a skidoo or ATV that needs some work."

Selfie on the course with Katie

These people know who is out on the water by the look of their boat in the distance, who just drove out of town on a machine and who is working at which store at what point of the day. It feels a little bit like neighborhood watch without the window stickers and a lot like the small town you've always been looking for. I've met people who came, fell in love with the community and stayed, and heard of people who are here to hide out. Either way, there is no shortage of people who have found their happiness here.

How about the North West Territories?

Here's a funny little story for your Sunday afternoon...

We moved again. If you're surprised, let me assure you, we were too. We were under the impression that Katie would be in Kugluktuk for work for a decently substantial amount of time. A week after we landed she got a phone call and she was offered the managers position in Ulukhaktok. Of course, she took the job. She's been waiting for this for as long as I've known her. 

Ulukhaktok Airport - one of the smallest I've been in

I booked my one way ticket to this lovely town, set to fly out exactly a week after her call. When I fly out of here it will need to be on some sort of seat sale.... the flight from Kugluktuk to here, one way, cost me almost $900. 

My selfie with the Welcome to Ulukhaktok sign

I can feel Katie's excitement. After even more years of travelling than I've done, she feels like she can finally settle. It's strange to think of settling so far North, so detached from the world. Up here there is no cell phone service, we can only use black berry messenger by enabling WiFi on our phones. Really though, who still uses bbm? I have a solid one hand full of friends who I can keep in touch with that way. I'm starting to think it may not be worth my $72 a month cell phone bill. 

I spent the whole day yesterday trying to get my blog page to load so I could share that we have re-located yet again. It didn't work and I feel lucky to have written this one. On top of no cell phones, limited internet (no computers or i pads half the time {we may need to get a second modem}) we also have no home phone. Katie is waiting for her managers house to be ready for move in, which could take up to a month, before setting up her land line. 

I enjoy roughing it, technologically speaking, but it's strange not to communicate with my family who may not all be aware that I have disappeared again. 

The old, unused Catholic church

The original store

When we landed here on the 25th (the first time) we spent about forty minutes on lay-over. The weather was over-cast and gloomy, we couldn't see much from the airport. I thought this town was too sandy looking for me. Now that we are here, and have been going on three days, I see the bright side of this place. Wow'ed instantly by the views from inside of the town, I am sold. We are surrounded by three Bays, Queens Bay, Jacks Bay and Kings Bay. It is a short drive (or a long walk) to a fresh water lake and a river that serves as the local swimming hole. 

The fresh water river between the town and the airport, where people swim

The town is greener than I thought but is still mainly made up of rock that has a rust color to it. The mountains around us are much different than the ones I loved so much in Qikiqtarjuaq. They remind me of the Grand Canyon in the way that they are colored and the slope of the rock faces, though they are not nearly as vivid.  

The people here are wonderful, kind and welcoming people. Everyone I walk past on the streets stops to talk and ask me my name. Every stranger we meet when Katie and I are together also asks, "are one of you the new manager?" It seems that news travels exceptionally quickly here in this town of less than 500. 

So, as readers of this arctic travelers blog, 'Welcome to Ulukhaktok,' or, as many of the locals have said, 'Welcome to Ulu.'

With love, for the first time from the North West Territories own, Ulukhaktok. (Does this mean I need to change the name of my blog?) 

With Love From Kugluktuk

After spending the remainder of my first year with Brody enjoying our family and friends in Ontario, we have landed in our new home, Kugluktuk Nunavut.

Playing at a park near the house

As you may have noticed, my laptop has been out of commission and it turns out that iPad's aren't the greatest blogging tools. But I'm back and with enough down time to sit down and share our stories.

This journey started with a stomach full of butterflies. Earlier in the year I was in talks with The Northwest company about coming back to work after my leave with Brody. They wanted me back in Iqaluit but I wanted to a) spend a full year with my baby and b) be in the same community as my best buddy Katie and her family. Being away from my family with a baby is hard, it makes me miss the ones I love doubly and makes me realize how much support I need to feel comfortable. There is very limited child care available in Iqaluit and in following Katie, I have both support and child care built in as Katie's hubby is home with their daughter and loves Brody like his own. So, together we came to the conclusion that the best place for us for the time being is Kugluktuk, formerly known as Coppermine. We are going to settle in and stay a while. We aren't sure how long Katie will be here as the company could find a community that needs her at any time. We are getting used to living as nomads, with this lifestyle we have to go with the flow, where ever the wind takes us. It can be frustrating, but we are happy and this way we are forced out of my comfort zone and get to experience beautiful community after beautiful community.

We left Oakville on Wednesday, flying from Toronto to Edmonton. My first time in Alberta. (And Brody's) This was my first taste of flying with a one year old! Holy smokes. I could feel the annoyance in the air. Lucky for us, we weren't the only baby toting family on the plane.

We had to overnight in Edmonton, but we didn't see much. The time change meant that Brody was ready for bed by the time we were settled in at the hotel. Stephen and I took Mekia for a walk, it seemed to be that our hotel was in the heart of a business hot spot because we didn't see anything other than their strange stop lights and some dirt and buildings. I'm sure we will make a point to see more of Alberta soon enough.

We got up at 4:30 the next morning to head to the airport and catch our flight to Yellowknife. (Our first time in the North West Territories) I would have cried if I had to endure another day where all of us were separated on the flight, luckily, on both flights right to our destination, we all sat in neighboring rows. I would love to spend more time in Yellowknife. The first thing I thought of was the few episodes of 'Arctic Air' I've watched on Netflix. The show makes the town seem so much smaller and more remote. I thought it would feel like a homey small town like the ones that we are accustomed to now. It's big, and it looks beautiful. I hope that on our next trip through we can arrange to spend a couple of nights and enjoy the City.

We couldn't land in Kugluktuk due to heavy fog. So the announcement came telling us that we would fly 50 minutes further to Uluhoktok (Holman) and then 50 minutes back and attempt to land again. I dreaded the extra two hours with kiddies who had long been done with flying for the day. I dreaded even more what would happen if the 'attempt' to land failed and we had to fly all the way back to Yellowknife.

During our brief layover in Uluhoktok - back to chilly weather

When we landed in Kugluktuk I was shocked by the greenery. After having spent some time looking around at the view from the airport in Uluhoktok, I was expecting Kugluktuk to look similar, covered in sand and dirt, very little color.

To the contrary, Kugluktuk is gorgeous, rather flat, quite different from our Mountain surroundings in Qikiqtarjuaq. I am amazed by Nunavut and its variety of scenery.

This is the beginning of our Kugluktuk chapter. Our first glimpse of life in the Western Arctic.

Keep following us to find out more about this beautiful town and the people and things we find here.

With love from Kugluktuk.

Two Feet on the Davis Straight

I think that to re title this blog as "My mommy adventure" would be so terribly fitting at this stage in my life. I find it hard to explore my current place of residence with tots in tow, but I also find it hard to find time to write. When 8 o clock pm hits, the kids are in bed and my eyes are too weary for the computer screen, I don't want the background noise from the tv, and I'm usually too spent to want to expend the energy that showering takes. My choice past time before bed is losing myself in a book.

We go out walking with the kids, I amaq Brody in my amauti and Katie pulls Mekia in the sled she got for Christmas. Both kids usually fall asleep and we stay out until our cheeks cant take the cold any longer. I think  that I had seen the whole town within the first few days of being here. It has just recently hit me how small my surroundings are here. I was drawn by the magnetism of the sky high mountains, the vastness of the Davis Straight and the extraordinary ice burg views and didn't really see how small Qikiqtarjuaq itself was. I would love to spend a Spring and Summer here to experience the wildlife, the boating and run the water over my feet.

It is rumored within my family that we are the descendants of John Davis, the explorer who the Davis Straight was named for, he sailed this area in search of the Northwest passage. John discovered the Falkland Islands and was later killed by a Japanese Pirate whose vessel he and his crew had seized. We don't know much of his story, but his portrait lays in the bottom of my Grandmother's closet, an occasional reminder of a history I should really research further.

Needless to say I had always dreamed of seeing the Davis Straight, though I wish I could see its waters, I have had the opportunity to not only walk all over the Bay surrounding Qikiqtarjuaq but drive on it as well.

Katie has a coworker named William Iqaalik who has been the greatest link in allowing us to see this town and to learn some of its facts. He has been so kind to bring us country food and keep Katie happy, with reminders of home.

William took us out in his old RCMP truck, driving along the ice. I've been on Nunavut's ice by dog team, on foot and by skidoo, but this was my first chance to take a drive. William seems to have mastered the ice, driving like its just another road, though for him, it is. He took us on a tour, pointing out the land where the 'old store' was, and showed us the mountains that we cant see from the comfort of our living room. He pointed out seal holes in the ice, where the seals surface to breathe, and he took us to a cabin that is used locally for clam diving. William showed me the hole in the ice, and though I was fascinated, just the thought of dropping through that hole into the frigid water below caused me to shiver.

My baby and his new seal skin mitts

Seal hole

William showing me a cabin, where divers go

Clam diving hole

As there are in all places I visit, I have goals here. One is to summit the small mountain that seems to be the closest to town, and has a beautiful view from the top. The second one is to visit bubbling lake, which is a lake that William pointed us in the direction of, that sits up over a hill and never freezes. Katie has been told by others that they fetch fresh water from the Lake. It is not a hot spring, William has told me this much, so I am intrigued to find out more about it. My third goal was to reach the sign that says that 'you are above the arctic circle.' Katie has been told that the sign is not there right now and that for $5 the hamlet will issue us 'certificates' that state the same fact. The lazy mans opt out, where I am concerned, but without the sign to show for the journey, I think the certificate may suffice.

Ice burgs in the distance on the Davis Straight

Wishing Lanterns

Its been a nice quiet holiday for us, probably for the best considering both of the babies and myself are fairly sick right now. The town actually asked people to stay home on New Years eve and the pastor conducted his service over the radio, to stop the spread of illness'.

Something else mentioned on local radio was our lanterns.

Katie's smiley lantern, filling up with hot air

I ordered wishing lanterns from China, not knowing if the extreme cold would allow them to heat up enough to fly. Lucky for us, once lit indoors, our beautiful lanterns floated somewhat gracefully into the wind, high above the town.

The night was a little bit of a shock for me here, as I have never celebrated in a town so small. There were no fire works at all, but when midnight hit, I heard them. I walked out the door behind Katie and jokingly said, "it sounds like we're being shot at." She laughed. We may not have been getting shot at, but the hundreds of fire-work-like bangs, were in fact gun shots. Interesting, and mildly dangerous way to ring in the new year, but thrilling nonetheless.

When Katie mentioned our lanterns at work yesterday, her co-worker Pasha responded with, "Oh, that was you guys? People were talking about those on the local radio." When Katie passed along the comment, I was delighted. I'm glad there were other people who got to share in the beauty of our new years wishes. We sent out three that night, one early, with two crying babies, and one for each of us at midnight.

Though we both missed the traditions of our home towns, I think we may have created a new one.