Arctic Char and Arctic BBQ

Today was a day of going and doing after a lovely and relaxed Saturday morning of coffee(s) and an egg sandwich for this intrepid writer. The community market, which was cancelled last week due to both a burst pipe in the hall and a death in the community, was up and running today. We went on an exploratory trip to the dump (neat photos to follow when I'm lacking in other material). I do have a few teasers for you that I couldn't resist sharing.

Obligatory mountain photo. The view from the road to the dump is lovely -- a study in contrasts (junk, burned junk, hazardous waste junk, wood dump, sewage pond, and these stupidly perfect and breath-taking mountains).

And, when I was trying to get a picture of the vegetation, withered and dead and peeking out through the snow, I ended up with a weird and twinkly effect. The first one is unedited; the second is amped up (the twilight version, as I call it -- darker, like twilight, and extra sparkly, like Twilight).

Frosty.

As I said, the vampire version. Vampires like it here. Sparkles and darkness (for at least part of the year) and pricey garlic.

Exciting trip to the dump aside, we headed to the community hall for the market and found a cornucopia of pudding cups, bannock, and other goodies. We bought some delicious soup with arctic char from a woman who also works at Nasivvik, which means I can check both caribou and arctic char off the Country Foods To Try While In Nunavut list (soon to be followed, hopefully, by freshly-killed seal -- although a gentleman warned me today to not take too much, because it's too intense for most southerners, and that is advice I will certainly heed).

You could tell the market was up and running because of the steady stream of folks walking to the hall and the lot full of snowmobiles.

A generous amount of char with broccoli, carrot, corn, onion -- so delicious! This soup went fast, both in my cup and in its pot. Certain items sell out really quickly, including cupcakes and homemade Boston cream doughnuts

It was great to see so many community members out and about, bringing things ranging from cupcakes to doughnuts to prints to share and sell. Children swarmed around, introductions were made, hands shaken, and curious community members chatted with the two student teachers from Nova Scotia. We especially enjoyed seeing so many adults -- Brooke and I spend all of our time around students, and it can be easy to forget that there's a whole community beyond and behind the youth we see each and every day while we're out and about town or in school. Seeing an event like this really added depth to the sense of community.

Luckily, while I was there, I was able to pick up a print -- sadly not made in Pond (those were a bit out of my price range), but made by a man who works out of Clyde River, a place that Brooke and I were in for approximately 15 minutes.

Narwhals! The best is the one with the double horn.

After our trip to the market, we headed over to a community event at the pond put on by Pond's health services. I imagined hot chocolate, but I did not imagine there would be a good old fashioned community barbeque in -30C weather!

Our cooks, however, were quite content -- if cold.

Nothing beats a hot burger when the air makes your fingers hurt when they're exposed. No, really! It's incredible! This was BBQ #3. The other two died horrible deaths, sacrificing themselves for delicious hamburgers and hotdogs and perfectly warmed buns.

It was, again, great to see community members out and kids running around and playing. The event was incredibly positive, the sound of laughter bright in the air. There was a fun fair at the elementary school starting up shortly after we arrived, so the gathering on the pond (in Pond) wrapped up and we headed down to Ulaajuk School.

So long and thanks for all the hot chocolate!
(That's a Douglas Adams reference, in case you think I'm being flippant and weird)

The fun fair was another incredible thing to see -- the junior Rangers ran the entire event, supervising a gym full of children playing games for tickets and prizes. Again, the buzz in the air was wonderful, and we kept seeing familiar faces as we made our trips throughout the afternoon. Although no one else was at the dump except a slew of ravens (I know it's a murder of crows, so I think I can get away with a slew of ravens -- har har).

I've commented before on the particular sense of community one feels when living in a small place and that was again highlighted today. I miss living in a place like this. And although Pond is certainly different than any other place I've been, it's also familiar. Community events, like markets and fairs and barbeques, the laughter, the smiles, the check-ins and conversations, the familiar faces... 

All in all, an excellent way to spend a Saturday that mixed spending time in the glorious outdoors with delicious food, great entertainment, and relaxed downtime in the house, working on the amauti braid while drinking in the sunlight that was bright across the snow and ice outside of the window.