Wednesday 25 August 2010

Polar plunge in Siorapaluk

The Greenlandic name of this northernmost natural village (in the world!) describes a beach. And indeed, you could easily expect sun-tanned people with towels, beach chairs and glasses with little umbrellas in them. If it only wasn't for the lumps of pretty white ice that is spread out in many places, or for the nasty fresh wind that picked up speed over the inland ice and hits the landing site with the statement: Don't you forget where you are!
But where are we? Does the position on the map describe it? A little bit maybe - more than 77° north. Considering that the few other places in these latitudes had been erected for mining or military reasons, it seems a very bold move for people to come to this. But hunting  is good here. Very good apparently, nearly everybody in "town" is a hunter, many a platform (where the prey get's prepared, skins scraped, meat cut, and so on) is sporting numerous walrus and musk-ox skulls, whalebones, baleens and lumps of blubber. Certainly the most interesting biography has Magsannuag, who is actually named Oshima, of Japanese origin and has been living here for nearly 40 years. He is the most successful hunter around and also crafts beautiful things from bones and musk-ox horn.
Certainly he is indistinguishable from his Greenlandic neighbours, only when he speaks English you hear a slightly asian accent. Proudly he presents his "workshop", the fresh polar bear skin, his knives. When he tells the tale of the last big fishing on the first of August you clearly notice that up here nature is the boss. It's all about currents, weather, ice. A tough life, but somehow we can't help but admiring it. Maybe because we know for sure that we wouldn't stand a chance in this environment? Well, come on, our life is tough, too - we haven't had internet for two days now…
Towards the end of the landing a few brave ones defy the cold wind and the ice in the water - and go swimming, much to the amusement of the villagers, of course. They have a story to tell now of these crazy people, until the next ship will arrive. When? Who knows...