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Don’t get me wrong; I love it here. I remember the thrill of stepping into Iqaluit’s bright yellow airport for the first time, feeling like I was in an alternate universe. Around me, women speaking Inuktitut carried their babies in their hoods, and a team of huskies waited outside. I still feel the same sense of excitement when I go for a hike in the 11 p.m. sunlight, gaze at the Everett Mountains from my window, or hear the local Brownies belt out a trilingual version of O Canada.
Of course, plenty of things about Iqaluit are familiar. Like any other Canadian capital, it boasts a theatre, restaurants, coffee shops, radio stations, banks, and a library. The domestic violence is familiar to some extent too; it’s certainly not unique to Nunavut. It’s just that here — where communities are small, airfares are high, and there are no roads between towns — getting away from a bad situation is even harder than it is elsewhere. “This is why girls need Guides,” I think to myself whenever another young woman takes the witness stand and clams up, refusing to testify against the boyfriend who walloped her.
Despite the undeniable social problems, Nunavut is a beautiful and fascinating place. A few years ago I could barely pronounce the territory’s name. Now I can’t even think about moving away without getting misty-eyed. It’ll probably happen someday, but my memories of living, working and Guiding here will always be among my favourites – or at least most of them will be.
By guest blogger Amy Porteous. Amy is Deputy Chief Commissioner-Governance and a Pathfinder Guider in Iqaluit, Nunavut (“Ee-hal-oo-eet, Noo-na-voot,” please!)
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