Glitter, Emory, and Frosted Glasses

Today was my first day at Nasivvik High School in Pond Inlet and I'm happy to report that the high school is lovely, as are my students, the student body in general, and my cooperating teacher Leslie. Our day begins at 8:10am and is divided into four 80 minute blocks, although one is split in half by lunch (which takes an hour). Interestingly, the schedule doesn't rotate: we always have Guidance first (helping students apply for bank cards, work towards graduation, and develop a plan for after high school), then our two English classes, and, finally, Esthetics (hair styling, manicures, nutrition, and examining beauty as a concept/construct). Leslie's classroom is warm and inviting and students work largely on independent work, especially in classes with intermittent attendance (which is many of them).

The Esthetic students today -- four girls in Grades 11 and 12 -- were capping off their unit on nail care and manicures by giving Grade 7 girls manicures. One student brought in, I kid you not, her entire collection of at least 60 bottles of nail polish of all colours and varieties; she quipped that walking to school had been a struggle with all those stashed in her purse! It was a wonderful class to observe: the interactions between the older and younger students were lovely, and the Esthetics students were professional both in demeanour and in execution of the manicures. Very cool, both for its real world applications and its multi-age community building!

Those are some fancy nails (paint spatter 'glitter,' crackle, other glitter, shiny top coat...)
... and some very pleased Grade 7 girls.

The students have been receptive to my arrival -- the younger students in junior high are incessantly curious and enthusiastic, the high school students, who are more accustomed to student teachers (Leslie has had a couple!), are also pleased, but in a much more subdued way. They are fairly impressed that I've managed to figure out their names so quickly, and I'm looking forward to getting to know them all as I'm here longer! It's always slightly daunting to enter a school in which you know no one -- none of the staff, none of the students -- and to try to build relationships from the ground up. It happens, but it does take time... but I must say that my welcome, both to Pond Inlet and to Nasivvik High, has been very warm so far.

The lobby at Nasivvik High.

These lovely ladies volunteered to model outside of Nasivvik at the end of the day.

After school ended, Brooke and I headed back to our Pond home, where we decided to trek out to the iceberg with Dave in a quest for more delicious iceberg water. We also wanted to test out our snow gear. Before we left, we took a few photos: the first is a shot of one of the dogs who wait on the ice (in the distance), plus a raven overhead (yes, a raven! in Pond Inlet! scruffier, but otherwise familiar); the next is to satisfy my brother Ken's challenge that I make the iceberg look small.

The sounds these dogs make are pretty incredible. I have a video of it to upload later.

Thanks, Brooke! Now I'm the master of the iceberg.

Afterwards, we headed out across the ice to visit the iceberg. It's about a 10-15 minute walk out and, although I was toasty and warm from toe to head, my cheeks and nose did get cold. Then again, that's what you get in -38C. Really and truly, it doesn't feel that cold, and pulling my balaclava over my face to give it a rest helped a great deal. The rest of me was very comfortable, even if my camera wasn't too impressed with what I was asking it to do!

And the sights were worth the chilly face.

Brooke and Dave survey the dark side of the iceberg (i.e., the side facing Pond).

Edging toward the distant side -- you can see that it's really been harvested (read: chipped away at) by residents.

Iceberg adventurers!

And, for scale, here are a few photos that Pat snapped from the house whilst we adventured.

On our way (I'm in the red parka in the middle, Brooke is on the left, and Dave is on the right).

Those tiny black dots? Us.

On the walk back, my sunglasses really started to fog up as I spent more time with my face mask pulled up, huffing warm air into my hair and up my face. It kept my cheeks cozy, but presented other challenges -- like frost. Not fog. Frost.

Kind of makes the whole seeing thing a challenge.

Lesson learned. Next time, wear contacts.

We moved on to other adventures afterwards (a hip-hop club/group at Nasivvik, where I met a group of incredibly enthusiastic and incredibly cool kids, who were very patient with teaching me dance moves and who managed to keep their laughter to a bare minimum during that process), but I'll save those for tomorrow's blog entry.

For now, I'm going to enjoy drinking a little more of that iceberg we harvested, and then it's off to bed and on to the next day and the new experiences it will bring.

"How Near How Far"

I wrote the first part of this entry while sitting on my First Air flight from Ottawa to Iqaluit -- a flight that has been, so far, entirely uneventful and entirely pleasant. Nick told us that the Northern airlines were the only airlines left that make flying civilized, and he's entirely right: superb service, excellent food, and plenty of both.

For example, my breakfast on our little three hour flight:

Yum! The first of many meals.

The plane we flow on from Ottawa to Iqaluit was a 60 seater, with the body divided into two sections -- the passenger section and the cargo section, which is toward the front of the plane (it's separated from the passenger section by a little removable wall). Our plane from Iqaluit to Clyde River and on to Pond Inlet was only an 18 seater, but had a similar layout.

There was this fascinating moment when making the journey up that I thought i'd share. We flew over Northern Ontario/Quebec for ages, which meant that we saw a mixture of trees and frozen, snowy lakes. I snapped a photo and watched the world slip by beneath us while listening to a playlist Kerstin put together for me. Every time I would glance down, the landscape remained the same: the dark of trees, the stark white of snow.

And then I looked back and everything was white. I felt a funny little jolt in my stomach. We'd flown pas the treeline and were not (and are now) in the Arctic.

The white of the landscape, peering down from the plane we were flying in, was not unbroken. It was textured by the change in terrain, by the bright light of the sun and the accompanying dark shadows. I've included pictures to share, and, although the detail is certainly lost in translation, the different interplay between dark and light below the treeline (more of a patchwork quilt) and above the treeline (more like scrimshaw) should still be evident. I've also included a picture of the place where land meets water -- the texture is totally different when viewed from the sky than the regular lay of the land. The sea ice is flat, but broken up by cracks, the dark of meltwater almost like the way cream cracks apart when it separates from milk.

Over Ontario

Above the treeline

Where land meets sea

We stepped off the plan in Iqaluit to find that, no, the Northern cold does not feel like a punch to the face, despite the fact that it was -30C. Instead, the air is crisp and clean and, certainly, it's cold, but not nearlyas bad as any of us had anticipated. Jenny headed off to catch her flight to Pang, but, before she left, we caught a photo of her and Brooke in front of the plane we'd just stepped off of.

Colourful!

We made it! "Our" plane in the background, Brooke, and Jenny in Iqaluit (and me, behind the camera!)

When Brooke and I boarded, we headed to Clyde River where the landing weather was questionable. Nonetheless, it was an excellent flight -- again, lots of delicious food, excellent service, and this time I managed to take a little nap. We landed without event and were hustled into the little airport to wait: it was a small, one-room building with a few chairs here or there. There was a drip coffee maker in the corner, along with a plug-in kettle, for visitors in need of a little pick-me-up. Because it was windy in Clyde, it was a bit colder than Iqaluit, but, again, not as cold as I'd expected.

Interestingly enough, once we switched to the smaller plane in Iqaluit, we found that we ended up wearing our parkas while we flew. The cabin was cold when we first got in! Things did warm up as we made progress from community to community, but it was definitely chilly at first. Plus, squished parka hoods make nice pillows.

The flight from Clyde to Pond Inlet was absolutely stunning -- I was glued to my window, camera in hand. I've included two photos that my computer handily enhanced, as well as one that hasn't been enhanced with  so that you can get a sense of what it looks like without digital filters. Getting good shots was tricky. The sun was incredibly bright -- almost white -- and the windows were scuffed, but I managed to snap a few passable ones. Believe me when I say that they don't even touch on the drama and beauty of the real deal. The interplay of shadow, light, the ridges, the drifts of snow... Phenomenal.

The enhanced photos read a little more true to what I was seeing than this one does, except for the over-saturation in the former. The landscape was very white, but was dramatically carved out by dark shadows, ranging from blue to grey. Every angle brought something new, and many mountain sides had rock that stood against both the shadow and the snow. It was truly magnificent.

We arrived in Pond without issue -- truly, our experience has been painless and hassle-free from start to finish (thanks to our airlines and, most importantly, to the man who arranged it all and has ensured we are well looked-after indeed). Dave, our host, picked us up at the airport and gave us a quick little tour aorund town. Pond is absolutely gorgeous; I can't wait to take pictures of everything! Dave and his wife, Pat, have been here since 1979, so Dave has plenty of information on how Pond has grown as a hamlet.

It's really time for me to turn in, so I'm going to close with a picture of what we found outside of the living room of Pat and Dave's home: an iceberg, illuminated by the setting sun. We may or may not have had melted iceberg to drink with dinner tonight (spoiler: we did, and it was the best tasting water I've ever had).

I'm here, I'm safe, I'm excited, and I'm happy. I'll check in again tomorrow with the scoop on my first full day here in Pond Inlet and my first day at my new school!

Not too shabby. Pretty to look at and tasty to drink!

To Ottawa

We've arrived safely in Ottawa, where the NU 5 are hunkering down for the night before we all head to Iqaluit and then go our separate ways. It's so wonderful to see everyone again -- to catch up and readjust ourselves for our trip north. What a treat to share in this experience with such lovely women! I would encourage all of you, faithful readers, to visit their blogs (available handily under "The NU 5" in the sidebar).

This morning, I was treated to a lovely breakfast of steak and eggs and then said goodbye to Kerstin and headed to the airport with my brother. And, because I promised, here is a photo of the ensemble that I wore to the airport, and continued wearing as I tromped around between gates. Fashion.

Please note: Everything I need is packed in those three bags.
Packing Achievement: UNLOCKED.

Let me tell you, I was toasty all day. I did think to pack little flats inside of my carry-on luggage, and so was able to slip these monster boots off when I needed to be a little more nimble-footed.

We met Nick at the Halifax International Airport for a farewell lunch and then had a pain-free flight all the way over Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and Quebec and into Ontario, where we found our way to the hotel and then on to food. Tomorrow, we're catching the airport shuttle at 7am (conveniently, Daylight Savings Time -- which starts at 2am this morning -- cancels out any time difference between Atlantic Standard and Eastern and so we will happily continue on in our 'own' time zone) and then Brooke and I will be spending most of the day en route to Pond Inlet.

As for now? Well, the hotel we're staying at happens to have a pool that is looking awfully tempting -- and, naturally, swimsuits were packed for our journey (and by naturally, I mean after researching our hotel and finding out it has a pool/hot tub, not because of a latent desire to take an arctic dip). So it's hot tub, tea, and getting a good night's sleep before continuing on!

The NU 5 -- Terin, Kris, Brooke, and Jenny (and yours truly behind the camera)
(Yes, all of that luggage is ours... Five trolleys in total!)

Long Lists and Airport Outfits

Today has been a day of list-making and list-finishing. After a lovely cuddle with Jensen in bed, cup of coffee provided by Kerstin (Best Wife in World, 6 years running), I made my Big List of the Day, which I've been working to cross off since I actually convinced myself to climb out of bed and into the real world. Between figuring out the restrictions on luggage for my trip up and back to sorting out all of those final details -- photocopying insurance papers, charging electronics, making sure my Kobo's library is bulked up (The 5th Wave, recommended enthusiastically by one of my students, is at the top of my list, as are the first five Percy Jackson books and other choice picks) -- it's been a busy day.

We did manage to carve out some time to go on a walk with Jensen up to a local park; it's such a beautiful day here -- light jacket weather, sunny, clean and crisp air -- and I figured I might as well enjoy wearing my Southern clothes while I can. Although, to be fair, my Canada Goose parka is currently hanging up by the front door, its pockets stuffed full of other winter accoutrements, and I feel a little puff of excitement each time I look at it. There aren't many opportunities to wear such a coat in Halifax, and I've missed feeling like an explorer who's hopped the Wall and is off into wildling territory (that's a Game of Thrones reference, in case you aren't enamoured with the show and/or novels).

Speaking of. So, my brother and his fiance are giving me a lift to the airport tomorrow morning (thanks, Ken and Ayla!) and, while thinking about packing and luggage restrictions and the clunky nature of many things I will need to have on my person when I step off the plane in Iqaluit on Sunday, well -- I realized (and by I realized, I mean Kerstin pointed out, thus breaking my absent-minded reverie) that I am going to need to wear a) my parka (Nick recommended this last semester, but it hadn't really 'clicked' for me), and b) my huge Sorel boots built for -70C.

In other words, stylish and streamlined all of the way.

But that's the price one must pay when living in a world with Air Canada's baggage restrictions and when heading to a place that requires bulky outerwear to fend off the cold.

Expect a photograph of my airport outfit ensemble soon.

For now, here is a photo of someone who, of his own free will and entirely of his own doing, snuggled up in my sweatshirt while we were out of the room. He has figured out that something is Going On.

How he managed to get pull it over him will forever remain a mystery.

(This has been an exercise in trying to get used to blogging daily)

(Daily dog photos will be stopping soon, but I may need to sort out a weekly feature -- Jensen Tuesdays or Greyhound Saturdays or preferably something that uses alliteration -- in order to keep that traffic up)

Life on the Edge

It feels as though I'm sprinting to Nunavut. It was hard to imagine, back at the beginning of this practicum, that time would slip by this quickly, but it has absolutely flown. It seems like yesterday that I first started getting to know my junior high students and today I'm saying goodbye (it's more of a see you later, truth be told, as I've promised to come back to visit in April and see what looks to be an exceptional play). It's exciting -- beyond that, in fact, and into exhilarating -- to be heading off to a new adventure, but it's also very difficult to leave these classroom communities that have so warmly and enthusiastically welcomed me and made me feel very much at home.

But onwards! My co-operating teacher at Nasivvik High School has been so welcoming and enthusiastic in our email exchanges and I am eager to step back into a high school environment with all these newly acquired teaching skills (thanks, MS1/MS2!) -- although I will certainly be stepping outside of my comfort zone and teaching unfamiliar courses and topics (guidance and esthetics, alongside English Language Arts). And not just into any old high school environment, but one that is nestled in a strikingly beautiful community and promises to help me become a better, more thoughtful, and more creative educator.

This past weekend, I made a trip to the store to pick up all of the small essentials one needs when travelling away from home -- chiefly King Cole tea and Laughing Whale coffee (these are far more important things to bring along than the requisite toiletries that I also picked up; I could make do with any toothpaste, but without my precious Lunenburg-roasted coffee? Ha!). Making these small preparations, doing some minor packing, and preparing my binder of NU-related resources (so helpfully compiled by my wonderful professor and NU program coordinator Nick Newbery) have helped make this impending trip much more concrete.

It still feels a bit like a dream, of course -- like something I've imagined and hoped for but don't really believe would come true. I've been so immersed in my junior high placement that making the intellectual and emotional shift is slow, but I imagine the shock of a new environment and a new school will snap me into the here-and-now (or the soon-to-be here-and-now). And that's a change I'm ready for -- it's a change I'm eager for!

Although, eagerness aside, it will be hard to say goodbye to this face come Saturday:

I will be flying back just in time for his birthday (the big 3!).

But, as I've told my students, it isn't goodbye so much as see you soon with a heaping side of with stories to tell, a heart full of new experiences, and on my way to becoming a better teacher.

Blizzards & Cold Air Masses

We are in the middle of a blizzard. When I got up this morning and peered out the window, I could make out, through the haze of airborne snow and ice particles, fine and dusty snow, piled up like sand dunes across the back yard. These drifts had very helpfully piled away from my front door, so I was not trapped inside with my very patient dog who very much needed to go out. But there you are: blizzard, snow, and absolutely freezing temperatures (wind chill of -25 to -33!).

Yesterday, when there was the cold air mass minus the blizzard-proper, I dug out my Canada Goose coat and headed out to run errands so that I could spend today staying inside, drinking coffee, and writing lesson plans. It was my first time truly wearing my coat, and I figured that I might as well take the (chilly) opportunity to test-drive it, so that I could learn its ins and outs (the interior pocket; the zippered side pockets; the soft patch of fabric inside of the front zipper when it's done all the way up; the particularities of operating a very fuzzy hood) before stepping off the plane in Nunavut. Walking before running, and all of that.

And here is is what I learned about my coat: it is awesome. And so very warm. Unbelievably warm. I had on a t-shirt and a thin sweater; I didn't put on the extra layer I would normally use in my everyday-southern-cold jacket (still a very respectable Timberland with extremely unflattering saddlebag-style side pockets). But, even with my meagre under-parka clothes, I made it only about half a block before I had to take off my scarf and earmuffs because I was overheating. And, as I walked to and fro, here and there, I kept adjusting the height of my zipper to let in more air and keep my temperature reasonable. Even with the crazy wind chill, my coat is so warm that, even on this climate's chilliest days, it borders on sometimes too warm -- only until I figured out the zipper as climate-control, mind you. The fur ruff is incredible: with my hood up, it seems like the wind just can't penetrate. I could feel the warm air inside of the hood, trapped by the ruff, recirculating, refusing to be snatched away by the gusty cold air.

I am so pleased with my coat. I'm also just beginning to realize that I honestly and truly have no frame of reference for the cold I am going to experience in March when I head up, because yesterday was so cold, and I was able to walk around, very lightly dressed underneath my coat and still a little warmer than I expected. When I'm in Pond Inlet, it'll be my base layers, plus that sweatshirt, plus a light jacket, all underneath my insanely toasty parka. I understand that, but I don't get it, not in my bones.

It's a rather thrilling venture, to know you're going to be doing something that you can't yet grasp, to know you're headed to a place totally beyond your usual frame of reference. For now, it's back to planning for my southern practicum (which starts up again on Monday), watching the blizzard rage on outside of my window, and occasionally throwing on my lovely coat to go out with a rather unimpressed dog, who is equal parts fascinated with and intimidated by the coat I put on that turns me, he half-believes, into a were-coyote.

Shopping: Achievement Unlocked!

Well, I now own a Canada Goose parka and some serious snow boots. Thank you, internet, for making that a painless process (painless in that I found everything I needed and it was shipped to me! painful in that I spent, well, a lot of money getting outfitted -- but investment pieces, blah blah blah, and, seriously, the quality of these items? through the roof).

As they say, winter is coming.

And because this is precisely the sort of thing I wished I could find when I set out to looking at gear for the serious cold, here is what I am wearing in the above picture:

Women's Expedition Parka (by Canada Goose), Medium

I ordered this from Altitude Sports in Montreal, after going to a store in the city to make sure a medium is the right size. If you buy a lifetime membership with Altitude Sports ($25), you save 5% on all purchases... which means that it was $40 dollars under the list price ($795 before tax), so I saved about $15. This may not sound like much, but I get that 5% for the rest of my life, and there's free shipping in Canada, and free returns for new members. SO. DEAL! Also, for sizing purposes, I would usually wear a small jacket -- I'm about a S/M shirt (the average M shirt is usually a bit baggy on me) and a size 6-8 pant. The medium is plenty big on me. I can comfortably layer underneath -- by which I mean a bulky sweatshirt and a medium-weight jacket with room to spare. Any bigger and I'd be swimming.

Men's Glacier Boots (by Sorel), Size 8

I ordered these guys straight from Sorel. They're rated for -70C! I usually wear a woman's 9, so the men's 8 is plenty big -- but not too big. They're clunky boots with great tread and rumour has it they last for about 20 years. Considering that a pair of winter boots usually costs, at minimum, $100 and will last for maybe two seasons, and these were $140, I can't complain.

I have one week left of coursework in my B.Ed., which is both thrilling and somewhat terrifying. I just filled out the paperwork for teacher certification today (and paid the province for printing me off that fancy card); I've been picking away on updating my online professional presence; I've attended a workshop on resume-building. This past week I went to see my students perform a play (spectacular!) and realized that, in a week's time, I'll be back to teaching. And the processes are in motion that mean that I will, in very short order, be certified to teach -- for real. It is, as I said, thrilling to know that I'll finally be doing what I want to do, but it's scary to be leaving the familiarity of the post-secondary schooling world. This is my seventh straight year in post-secondary studies. I am very much ready to move on, but it's always a bit of a challenge to leave what's familiar behind.

This is a theme, of course, you can expect to come up again, as I will definitely be leaving the familiar behind come March. At least now we know I won't die the moment I step off of the plane! Nakurmiik, cold weather gear!