So basically as soon as I got off the plane, the Kuujj sucked me dry and the blog died right then and there. Now it wasn’t all bad but this year I worked at the group home for troubled youth (12-15 years old) which gave me an all too up close and personal glimpse into some shocking realities. Hilarious things of course happened: duck embryo eating, beluga slaughter party planner, Kuujjuaq sports club run champion, pool pipe explosions, yellow bus driving and of course the role of tall blonde heartbreaker and husband stealer extraordinaire. Sheer exhaustion and a lack of blogging will unfortunately overwhelmed me.
Kuujjuaq is a place that I truly feel can never be understood by anyone except those who live it, and even then many people who experience the village solely focus on the task at hand that has brought them there to begin with. Maybe it is these people who have the right idea as to try to comprehend and contribute to the local way of life does nothing but drive one into the ground.
My first summer in the North, everything was new. My only frame of reference for what to expect came from my grade 4 unit on arctic animals, soap stone carvings, and bannock bread. Of course I had also heard the cultural stereotypes: alcoholism, drugs, hunting, fishing, overpopulation, lack of education, teen pregnancy, abuse, rape, etc.
Looking back at my first summer, I was saved by how naive I was. Never living in a small town or ever baring witness to the atrocities that many of the people face, things simply went over my head.
This summer I saw it all and I will never go back.
Kuujjuaq is a place that I truly feel can never be understood by anyone except those who live it, and even then many people who experience the village solely focus on the task at hand that has brought them there to begin with. Maybe it is these people who have the right idea as to try to comprehend and contribute to the local way of life does nothing but drive one into the ground.
My first summer in the North, everything was new. My only frame of reference for what to expect came from my grade 4 unit on arctic animals, soap stone carvings, and bannock bread. Of course I had also heard the cultural stereotypes: alcoholism, drugs, hunting, fishing, overpopulation, lack of education, teen pregnancy, abuse, rape, etc.
Looking back at my first summer, I was saved by how naive I was. Never living in a small town or ever baring witness to the atrocities that many of the people face, things simply went over my head.
This summer I saw it all and I will never go back.
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