Our hosts were a Danish-Greenlandic couple, Anders and Ellen, who have lived aboard the Kisaq for decades. They sail up and down the west coast of Greenland, with the occasional jaunt down the Eastern Seaboard into the Carribean. Anders is a tall, quiet, and resolute Danish man, who seemed most talkative at breakfast . His silence and proclivity to morning instilled confidence in me—these seem to be fitting traits for a maritime man. Ellen, on the other hand, was a bit more lively, a dry Greenlandic woman, a mother and a grandmother, a wonderful cook, and the obvious master of the ship’s domain. Throughout the weekend we enjoyed her delicious homemade bread, cream-based seafood soups, and perfect pot roasts, all complimented with healthy doses of boiled potatoes . I asked her the first night who the worst guest was that the Kisaq had ever hosted and she immediately told me it was a group of heli skiers who brought along their own “master chef” for the trip. It was obvious that being relegated to sous-chef in her own kitchen would be Ellen’s worst nightmare. I liked Ellen, though—she seemed to be a woman who has her priorities straight. When we sent a chair clattering down a stairwell during a rousing game of spoons one night around midnight, she barely batted an eyelash; on the other hand, when I tracked about a tablespoon's worth of snow into the main living area, she gave me a thorough reprimand. I guess when you live on a boat, you care about the things that really matter—like dry socks.
This past weekend Ken and I were lucky enough to be invited by some friends from Aapakaaq (the local climbing club) on a weekend boat trip into the fjord aboard the good ship Kisaq. It was a great trip, complete with skiing, hunting, and beautiful (albeit cold) weather. Our hosts were a Danish-Greenlandic couple, Anders and Ellen, who have lived aboard the Kisaq for decades. They sail up and down the west coast of Greenland, with the occasional jaunt down the Eastern Seaboard into the Carribean. Anders is a tall, quiet, and resolute Danish man, who seemed most talkative at breakfast . His silence and proclivity to morning instilled confidence in me—these seem to be fitting traits for a maritime man. Ellen, on the other hand, was a bit more lively, a dry Greenlandic woman, a mother and a grandmother, a wonderful cook, and the obvious master of the ship’s domain. Throughout the weekend we enjoyed her delicious homemade bread, cream-based seafood soups, and perfect pot roasts, all complimented with healthy doses of boiled potatoes . I asked her the first night who the worst guest was that the Kisaq had ever hosted and she immediately told me it was a group of heli skiers who brought along their own “master chef” for the trip. It was obvious that being relegated to sous-chef in her own kitchen would be Ellen’s worst nightmare. I liked Ellen, though—she seemed to be a woman who has her priorities straight. When we sent a chair clattering down a stairwell during a rousing game of spoons one night around midnight, she barely batted an eyelash; on the other hand, when I tracked about a tablespoon's worth of snow into the main living area, she gave me a thorough reprimand. I guess when you live on a boat, you care about the things that really matter—like dry socks. The Kisaq sleeps 10, in five tiny 2 person cabins. Upon entering our 1 meter by 3 meter cabin, full of clever cubbyholes and space-saving features, Ken, ever the minimalist, remarked, “Architects could learn a lot from boats! They’re so space efficient. We could live in this cabin forever and never need more space.” As I searched in vain for an open surface on which to set my backpack, I chose to ignore his comment. But he does have a slightly valid point. Tracks! On Saturday, we had a great day of skiing/touring. Shortly after leaving the boat, we saw about 5 reindeer running through the valley below us—my first large land mammal sighting in Greenland! We skinned up about 2500 ft (~760 m) to a great little peak with a beautiful panoramic view of the surrounding peaks and fjord system, then skied back down to shore on some decent (although variable) snow. I enjoyed the lower angle runs as we got closer to the boat—better snow, and easier on my old telemark setup (on which I am incapable of making anything but parallel turns). Ken, Aili, and I then did an additional lap up to a 1500 ft (~455 m) saddle to get in a few more turns and one more view. The snow was great on the ski back down and it was a beautiful run to end the day. We had bluebird skies and cold, but bearable, weather—about 0 deg F (-18 deg C). Cracks in the snowpack. On Sunday, most of the party went hunting for ptarmigan and arctic hare, but lacking rifles and know-how, Ken and I opted to ski. The weather was a bit more unpredictable, and Anders (the captain) warned us at breakfast that white-out conditions could be upon us by midday. With this in mind we took careful GPS waypoints on a short hike (about 1500 ft/455 m) up the backside of a peak with a mellow slide path on the front side that we were thinking of skiing. When we got to the saddle we were thinking of skiing down from, Ken became more cautious and I stood by while he ventured toward the slope to assess the snowpack. About 2 meters out he heard a “whoomph” as the snow on the face settled, and cracks went shooting up, down, and out from the protected place were Ken stood. He quickly scurried back to me and we debated for a while whether we should set off the slide, but decided not to and skied back to the boat down the backside, following our skin track. Pretty exciting/sobering for me, but also nice to have exercised a bit of caution and see it pay off. The ski back down was uneventful save for a small touch of white frostbite that appeared on my nose-- spotted by Ken, as usual. Thank goodness for balaclavas! After returning to the boat we met up with the hunters, who had a good haul for the day—about 35 ptarmigan and one beautiful arctic hare. A Belgian Ph.D. student on the trip, Lorenz, regaled us with the tale of how he, rifle-less, had come upon a wounded ptarmigan and finished it off by ripping off its head. Greenland really has a way of bringing out the wild side in people. Cost for this trip, with all meals included, was about 300 USD per person, and well worth it. Ken and I have a similar trip coming up tomorrow through Sunday aboard another boat, the Minna Martek, and we’re excited to see how it compares to the Kisaq. Stay tuned for a full report and in the meantime, check out more pics from our trip below (mostly taken by Ken).
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I'm now back in Nuuk after a final month of work in Afghanistan. It's good to be back, and in the last week I've been skiing--straight out the front door-- four times. Pretty amazing. More on that later. For now, a short post. Today outside of Brugsen (the largest grocery store in town), I was delighted to find a Greenlandic woman selling papercutting silhouette art in the local sell/swap area. I took home the piece below for 50 Danish Kroner-- about 9 USD. It's a bit rough, but I like her style. She had a large variety of additional work in her backpack that she pulled out to show me after I made my purchase-- unfortunately, I forgot my camera today. In other interesting news, both major grocery stores in downtown Nuuk were completely out of eggs today. A definite blow to my evening baking plans.
As I sit stranded in Bahrain on my way back to Kabul due to heavy snows in Afghanistan, Ken is freshly returned to Nuuk after suffering through two weather induced 4 day delays that bookended his three week Christmas vacation. Below, an entry he put together to brief the curious on the basics of getting into--and out of--Greenland. It's big on details, so if you are not interested in actually figuring out your options for getting to/from Greenland, here's the sum up: traveling to and from Greenland/North America will easily run you 1500 USD or more, you can only bring one 44 pound bag, you must fly via Iceland or Denmark, and it sucks trying to get in or out in the winter. Big time. Ken here. Despite their close proximity, traveling between Greenland and the rest of North America is not an easy (or cheap) task. Currently (January 2012), there are no commercial flights between the US/Canada and Greenland. Flights into or out of Greenland are only offered via Denmark or Iceland. Greenland's domestic air carrier, Air Greenland, basically has a monopoly on all flight travel in Greenland, as evidenced by its high flight prices. Air Greenland offers regular flights from the major towns on the west coast of Greenland (including Nuuk) to Copenhagen with stops in Kangerlussuaq. The airport in Kangerlussuaq (an old US military base) is the only operating runway in Greenland large enough for commercial jets. All other flights essentially shuttle passengers to Kangerlussuaq via smaller Dash-7 or Dash-8 prop planes. From Kangerlussuaq, an Airbus flys daily to and from Copenhagen. It's also possible to fly from Nuuk direct to Reykjavik on either Air Iceland (Iceland's domestic carrier) or Air Greenland. Flights normally leave Nuuk late at night, arriving at the Reykjavik domestic airport very early the next day. It's normally cheaper to fly to the US via Iceland (as opposed to Denmark). From Reykjavik, Iceland Air (Iceland's international carrier, NOT to be confused with Air Iceland) offers regular flights (1 flight/day, 3-7 days/week departing late afternoon from Keflavik International airport) from Reykjavik to the US with hubs in New York, Boston, Washington DC, Seattle, and Minneapolis). Iceland Express also offers flights from Iceland to the US on a seasonal basis.
That's it for airline options, and whether you fly via Iceland or Denmark, connection layovers are long. Normally, an overnight stay is required in Copenhagen. If flying via Iceland, plan on spending most of the day in Reykjavik (not necessarily a bad thing--we suggest you check out the municipal swimming pools). To top it all off, checked baggage on both Air Greenland and Air Iceland is limited to 20 kg, and excess is charged the ridiculous rate of about 10 USD/pound. Often times, this is ignored (at least with Air Iceland), but it's hard to know. As an example, we've decided it's cheaper to just buy new skis in the US rather than pay the fee to carry ours back and forth with us. Because most of these airlines don't partner with major travel sites like Kayak, Expedia, etc., it's difficult to create a single itinerary. Therefore, it's a good idea to find travel insurance that will cover cancellations, delays, etc. for one trip booked on separate itineraries on multiple air carriers that aren't partners. Any suggestions from the seasoned travelers out there? Lastly, be warned-- winter travel is especially risky. Because of Nuuk's short runway and dodgy weather (not just snow/ice, but also wind), delays are common. I've been told that to fly between Nuuk and Reykjavik, airlines require that Kulusuk airport in in East Greenland also be open as a backup landing runway before they will make the trip, but we're not sure what this consists of-- possibly just a guy with a radio who feels like getting up that day and saying ,"All clear!". As you might imagine, the simultaneous occurrence of good winter weather in Iceland, West Greenland, and East Greenland is fairly rare, so windows for travel are small. On my travel to the US this winter, I was delayed 5 days. On my way back home to Nuuk, I spent 4 days holed up in a hotel in Reykjavik because of weather delays. It's all a bit demoralizing, but better than using your seat cushions as a down sweater in the even of a crash on the ice cap, as recommended in the Dash-8's emergency safety brochures. The advent of new snow a few days ago sent the neighbor girls outside in a frenzy of excitement. They immediately started rolling large snowballs down the middle of the street and I was convinced that, as is the case for so many children, a day long project resulting in a snowman of epic proportions was about to ensue.
Turns out these ones were satisfied with a little less. After a few minutes the girls returned to our front yard to construct this rather disappointing subject, a diminutive specimen. The attention to detail is a bit reminiscent of a snowman from a Calvin and Hobbes strip, for which I give them props. But I guess next time Ken and I will have to show them how it's really done. Freezing rain on a dismal November morning. Ken takes to the streets on his teles. A rather anticlimactic video, but it allows you to admire our neighborhood.
October was quite a month. From Afghanistan to Greenland, to Chicago for our wedding and on to Mexico, then back to Chicago, and now home again in Greenland-- with a couple day trips in Iceland thrown in for good measure-- not to mention seeing every good friend I've ever had in life in one place in a space of a few hours--I can't quite keep up with everything and feel my space-time continuum is a little off kilter.
Flying back into Nuuk on a rather scary Dash 8 flight from Reykjavik last night, I wasn't sure how I felt about the return to Greenland. Stepping off the plane into 10° F (-12° C) temps with a wind chill that made things feel much colder, I was pretty sure that life sucked. But once we had climbed into a taxi for home and I had time to take a breath, I looked out the window and saw that the eerie green aurora were stretched like a long curvy finger across the sky and down to the fjord. "Oh hey there," I thought. Then I noticed that our Greenlandic taxi driver was listening to Johnny Cash on the radio, and I said to myself, well, I guess his space-time continuum is a little off too. So, I'll take it. Looking forward to taking some nice pictures as the Greenlandic winter unfolds this month, In Kabul or other insecure conflict areas, "White City" refers to the UN's highest security alert-- when in effect, the city goes into lock-down mode and almost all movement ceases.
Now back in Greenland, I've been pleased with my own cleverness as I call Nuuk "white city" in my mind while tramping around town in the snow. Here are some pictures. After two and half months in Aghanistan, I'm back in Nuuk and enjoying the simple pleasures of being here. Brewing my own coffee in the morning... baking a fresh batch of blueberry muffins... doing yoga with a view of the ocean instead of the inside of a container wall... all of these are things I now relish with renewed appreciation. The best part of being back, of course, is Ken; but I knew that would be great. The small things--the incredible quality of Danish toilet paper, the saltiness of the bacon, the total lack of gunfire at night--are what keep on surprising me. The weather in Nuuk is already cold and snowy, and it's been nice to cuddle back up into sweaters, down coats, scarves, and toques. But before I go on about Greenland, I want to post a few pictures of my travels in and out of Kabul. During my time in Afghanistan I had the chance to travel to Bamyan, an ancient Buddhist center in the central highlands of the country, and also Mazar-i-Sharif, a northern town in Balkh Province. Due to security incidents that restricted my travel, I wasn't able to visit all the places I had hoped to, so I plan to return to Afghanistan for two short trips before and after Christmas to complete my project. I didn't take many pictures, but hopefully these give you a taste of the country. Next up, some pictures of a near-wintry Nuuk. Yesterday I noticed with near hysterical excitement that the barnevogns around town are now outfitted in serious sub zero parkas-- these babies are getting ready to hunker down for the winter! I will be watching them weather the storm every step (or outdoor nap, as it were) of the way.
As I type, a blowing mix of snow/rain is beating at the window and the wind is gusting around 30 miles per hour. A good day to hole up inside and enjoy our recently-arrived shipment, which includes a large stash of Kraft macaroni and cheese, my piano, and more movies and books than one could ever need. With Anna away I've been staying busy with field work in Kobbefjord, but I did manage a day hike to the top of Sermitsiaq yesterday. Sermitsiaq is the iconic peak (also its own island) near Nuuk with a craggy 1200 meter summit visible from most places in town. It's also the name of the local newspaper, and many other community themed events. We had superb weather, especially considering Nuuk was shrouded in fog most of the day. Here are some photos from the hike:
For those of you who don't know, I've taken a 3 month contract with iMMAP in Afghanistan (I left Greenland 2 weeks ago). iMMAP is an information management ngo for whom I've worked before in Ethiopia, when they provided me to the United Nations World Food Programme as a GIS Officer from 2008-2009. While here I will be conducting an information management needs assessment for several humanitarian agencies and ngos operating around the country. I am based in Kabul but should start traveling around the country in a few weeks to conduct the assessment. The basic goal is to identify info management gaps and needs within and between agencies so that we can help them come up with solutions to better manage their data and channel it to those who can best use it. Right now I'm getting settled in Kabul, designing the study, and getting acquainted with the organizations that will be part of the assessment. I'm also making maps in my spare time. Here's one from a few days ago. It feels good to be working again. If you'd like to see more of iMMAP's maps to get a sense of the kind of work they do here, check out this link.
I'm hoping that Ken may do a guest post here and there to satiate your thirst for Greenland ways of life. I doubt I'll post much from Afghanistan, but I may submit the occasional photo once I start traveling around the country. We'll let you know. |