Desperate times call for desperate measures

Jane stopped and looked at the question and image on her computer.  “Could you live in this cottage in the middle of nowhere for a year with no internet and no city amenities?”  Of course, it was a joke, who could do that? But it made her think about her employment situation and worse, the financial abyss she was falling into.

Her first phone call was to her bill collector.  An arrangement was made to pay at least $1,000 a month until the debt was paid off.  After she put down the phone on its cradle, a phone so old, it was called a rotary dial, she rifled through her file called Tuk School and dialled them next. Each number took its time to click in a round-like fashion. Oddly, the receiver in her hand stayed cold although her hand was sweating.  She told herself that extreme situations require extreme solutions. She had sinched her financial belt so tight, she could barely eat a full meal at dinner time. The timing of the move could not have been more perfect, she used her damage deposit as her last month’s rent. 

“Hello, yes, Tuk School? May I talk to the principal?”  A gentle voice came across the line and he began with a chuckle. “Yes, thank you, I wanted to say that I accept your offer.  I’ll move to Tuktoytaktuk and teach grade 2.”  Another gentle chuckle and, of course, an explanation of all the paperwork that would be sent to her immediately as the school year was about to begin.  Her cottage would be a ten-minute walk from this northern school and her first day would be August 28th.  Jane would have to organize her move rather quickly. 

She looked at a map again and sighed.  She would have to tell her friends that she took a contract teaching Santa’s elves children in grade 2 way up north. 

Within the week she had faxed all the signed documents required, a voided cheque, a police check, packed her items and sent them to the assigned address ahead of time, and lastly, standing at the airport wondering if a parka and -30C winter boots were good enough for August in the arctic circle. She dressed as if she were going to live in rather large igloo. She boarded the plane with a few others, but as the flight was a milk run up to the far north, many got off and on until finally the last few hours on the plane were just 50 or so people.  She looked around to see what they looked like. They looked Aisain, but very tanned Aisain, and a couple of European-decent people like herself. They were dressed in autumn clothes. She was dressed in winter clothes and slowly feeling uncomfortably hot. 

After twelve hours of flight time and plane transfers, she reached the Inuvik airport.  It was small with a tall standing polar bear in the middle as a reminder of who owned this land. She didn’t see any airport security.  It was one large room with three airline desks, one small luggage carousel, a bathroom, and behind the bathroom was a tiny fast-food restaurant.  Jane checked her purse for any left-over coins but after seeing the price of french fries alone, she recalled once being told that everything up north was doubly expensive. She decided to just buy a coke.  $3.00!  Nope, everything in her rebelled.  Jane gathered her luggage and waited for someone to pick her up as her new principal instructed. Surely he would be holding a sign. 

Her taxi driver was an Inuvaluate person, with missing teeth, smelled like old cigarettes, and wore a hoodie that was frayed at the cuffs. Then she looked at the pop machine and realized that everything must be expensive up here, even clothes. He just walked up to her and said hello. 

“How do you know it’s me you're picking up?” Jane asked.

He laughed, “I know everyone else," his hand gestured sideways.

She got into the taxi cab and the man babbled away with a very thick Indigenous accent combined with lisping due to missing teeth.  She discovered her new community was a two-hour drive away further into the north. It was above the tree line he told her.  

As they passed the last tree, he pointed it out to her. “Many people think that a strong tree is large, with many branches and leaves. That is wrong.  See that tree?”  He pointed to a strangely looking thing maybe three feet tall, with two branches, and thinner than a twig, many people would have called that a Charlie Brown tree. “That is the strongest tree, it is the most northern tree and still lives even though our temperatures can reach as low as -62C.”  Jane’s heart sank as her head swerved watching the last tree disappear on the horizon.

After two hours of watching the rolling landscape, and oddly, the occasional hill that looked like it was formed by an ever-largening balloon, she was told they were pingos and only common in their area.  

“Bears?  Any polar bears?”

“Oh yeah, you have to check your Facebook in the morning. Someone will post if they saw a bear.”

“Do I still have to go to work with a bear wondering about?”

“Well yeah, you are a teacher? Yes? You kids will be there, some will come by school bus, some by Skido or ATV.”

“How can I go to work if there is a bear in the streets?”

“You just have to run faster than your neighbour to work,” he laughed, squinting his eyes so tight, he looked like he was wearing Inuit snow goggles with slits. He calmed down and continued. “Do you see the first room that struts out of the houses?”  Jane nodded, “Those are called meat rooms.  They are never locked.  There is another door that leads into the house.  You can always go into anyone’s meat room if you think you are in danger.  If you are too cold, or being chased by a wild dog, or bear, just run into someone’s meat room.”

“Why do you call it a meat room?” Jane asked.  

The man just smiled. “You’ll figure that out soon enough.”  

“Why are all the houses on stilts?” Jane asked.

“All the houses are on permafrost.  Nothing is stable here,” he replied.

He dropped her off in front of her cottage and pointed to the school, a good ten-minute walk down the street. Then he pointed to Stantons, the closest grocery store a block away.  Then he pointed to The Northern, a good fifteen-minute walk to the end of the peninsula and added another couple of points. “The post office is there at the Northern. By the way, Amazon doesn’t deliver this far north. Community events happen at the community centre if they happen at all. There are no bowling centres, movie theatres or cafes here. There is no liquor store, and no drugs allowed in town or the RCMP will arrest you if you are found with either. And Tuk is slowly sinking into the ocean. It won’t be here in 50 years. How long are you planning on staying?”  Jane shrugged more at the deluge of information rather than the question. 

She found the key under the rock she was advised it would be under the front door stairs. The first door was open to the meat room, and the second door was where the key fit.  After putting her key in and twisting she began to feel good about her choices.  She stepped in and found a completely furnished small home that was perfect for her needs. She took off her sweaty boots and unseasonally warm coat.  All the items looked like it was bought in the back of Superstore but it worked. Jane walked into the small abode and checked out each room, especially the kitchen. Immediately she made a cup of tea noting the tiniest of dry goods left behind by the previous teacher. 

She sat in the rocking chair and did a calculation in her head.  Signing bonus, plus monthly paycheck, plus northern pay, plus medical coverage, plus GST tax rebate, and no transportation costs to work and back, no entertainment costs. And my expenses are rent, heat, internet, and food. Jane then started counting on her fingers and figured out that she would be out of debt by July 1st.  Then she calculated how far ahead she would be if she stayed two years, then three.  

She got up and pulled the rest of her luggage into the meat room.  An inebriated old Inuvaluate woman wandered by struggling to get up the road.  Two other women, in their middle ages, were linked arm and arm talking about going to ‘Sister Faye’s’ second-hand shop, but the rest of the conversation was indigenous. Children were scooting about on their bikes in the sunshine. Wild dogs that looked like a cross between mutts and Huskeys ran between the houses.  Several extremely large trucks raced down the short street heading towards the Northern. 

After Jane unpacked, she sat down for another cup of tea but decided to open the other cupboard doors to see what she had to buy.  There was a letter for the next teacher.

“Dear New Teacher,

I came here because I needed money to pay off my student loan.  Now I am leaving because I am more than ahead in my life. You are probably working at Tuktoyaktuk School.  Good luck, it is a wonderful school. There is chronic absenteeism so never expect a full class, then again, we can say that about any school anywhere after Covid. I left you some tea, cans of soup, powdered milk, sugar, and if they are still good, some cookies. I also left several of my books and some knitting supplies.  Check out Sister Faye’s thrift shop for any needs, she is one of the last original nuns from the olden days and she lives at the end of the point, near the sign that says ‘Arctic Ocean’.  Survival hint, the dogs are friendly but the Indigenous people are rather picky as to who they associate with. Can’t blame them. All the best, Alexandria.  PS:  It is illegal to bring any alcohol into the community. 

Jane opened the other cupboard doors in the kitchen and found more supplies. 

Never in a million years would she have ever thought to survive her challenges would she have to go to one of the far corners of the earth, in the Arctic Circle, where survival was even more extreme. Tomorrow, she would meet her new staff friends. This was going to be a good year!