11.11.11

While I lived in the High Arctic I became friends with many Inuit. One of my little friends was a young girl who lived two doors down from me. She had a younger sister who was about a year and a half and she used to carry her on her back everywhere they went. Girls from an early age used to carry younger members of their family as it was difficult for very young children to walk through the snow and ice during the travels from house to house or even further. This little one had a very interesting family.

Her mother was one of twelve children. Eleven girls and one boy. Her grandmother was also a member of a family with eleven girls and one boy. In each family the boy was the youngest and each died early in life due to suicide. The grandmother was able to communicate in a small way in English but was known as a wonderful story teller in her native Inuit  language. This language was spoken by Inuit in a region along the North West Passage. I used to get her telling stories about early life and my little friend used to translate.

Some times when a particular humorous part would be told laughter would break out from those listening and again when the story was translated. This grandmother preferred to live on the land and for eight months of the year she moved to her little abode some 5 miles from town. She had great knowledge of the Inuit culture and I tried to get her to explain the significance of the little people  which was believed by all the Inuit people. These little people along with Shamans held the magic which was part of the spiritual heritage of the Inuit. She was reluctant to engage in a conversation because years before she was laughed at and scorned  when she told these stories at a hamlet gathering attended by white people . The white people were there to try to get the Inuit to leave their  nomadic life style and move to settlements. She never told a white person these valuable stories again until I gained her confidence.

One very interesting aspect of her life was doing puzzles. I gave her puzzles one Xmas and ever since she looked foreword to my Xmas present which always contained puzzles. I bought one puzzle which , when completed showed a scene of wolves chasing a caribou. It had 2000 small pieces and I thought she would never finish it. Not long after I answered the door and some of her family were there to invite me to  grandma's house to celebrate her birthday. When I arrived I was greeted by her whole family except her dead son. There was the puzzle all finished and glued to a board and hanging on the wall with her other art pieces.

She told us that night she had special powers as her grandmother and mother had shaman powers because they were the oldest of twelve,  three generations in a row. She told us wonderful stories of the old days and since I was there we all  heard it twice. It was a wonderful evening with a feast of dried muskoxen, caribou and Arctic Char. Memories like these keep me loving the people and their land Nunavut. I wonder how many stories will be told about  11.11.11.. I will never forget the one about 12.12.12.