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| A place I have never been to and two people meet. | |
| By JohannaBoal | ||||
| 04 September 2008 | ||||
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A place I have never been to and two people meet. Have you ever wondered what it is like living in an Igloo at the Arctic? Well it is very cold – no central heating for obvious reasons. But Igloos are fascinating places; they are made out of a 100% ice. There are no manmade products to combine with the ice to make an igloo; I find that impressive living in the 21st century. Igloos are all on one level and they are big and roomy. The kitchen is to die for! Talk about non-electrical mod cons made out of ice. The kitchen stove is made out of ice and in the centre, where the oven is, there is a constant small fire. Apparently the fuel is Seal Fat shaped into briquettes. To clean the oven, all you do is scrap away the dirt and it doesn’t matter that you create a hole. You just go outside get some ice, fill it up and pat it back to shape. Back in England I scrub with Jif and a scourer! The freezer is jam packed with whale and Seal meat. Talk about stocking up, the cupboards is filled with pickled fish, whale and something that looks like seaweed. The kitchen sink is carved into a bowl shape with no taps, it has a plug hole and it is filled with ice cold water. An ice making machine is in the corner, made out of solid ice and somehow miraculously makes ice cubes of all shapes and sizes. At the moment the Eskimos are celebrating the North Star- it is called something like the ‘North Star Festival’ so the ice cubes are shaped like the North Star. The floor has also been carved to give a tile effect and this carries on through to the lounge, sleeping quarters and bathroom. The bathroom is like one big spa pool, which has been very cleverly built over a hot spring. There is not much floor area in the bathroom as the edges of the pool are soft and constantly break away. But the air temperature is below freezing, keeping the walls solid and a small seating area. I must say igloos are nothing like what I expected. The first time I ever tasted whale meat was at the igloo. I can’t quite describe it. The colour is greyish and the texture rubbery. When you bite into it – it crumbles, this takes you by surprise, as you expect to break it down for sometime in your mouth and it tastes of salt. To get it down my throat, I drink the local alcohol. The local alcohol is made out of a type of moss, which only grows here in the Arctic. Seal fat is used to aid with fermentation process. It tastes bitter but bearable. I soon realise how potent it is as I get drunk very quickly. I must have dozed off, as I remember waking up very cold; somebody had left the door opened. It is no ordinary door as it is not of average height and it is quite narrow. You almost have to squeeze yourself out of it. There are carvings on the door which are very intricate, like that of a joiner; it is the best craftsmanship I have ever seen. Feeling quite awake, I gaze at the carvings on the door, there are seals whales and icebergs. On one of the icebergs there is a cloaked person, kneeling as if in prayer. Beside them is another person as if they were attentively listening. I feel a sense of been absorbed into the picture and I fantasise that this kneeling person is really a true confession. I pick up strong senses within the carving; the night air is still but very cold. Perhaps that is why I woke up; the coldest I feel is from the picture. Still looking at the kneeled person, I feel a great sense of telling and in my absorption I watch the face of the listener – it looks gravely intense. I wonder who these people are: ‘A mother and daughter’ ‘A father and son’, ‘Two cousins’ or ‘A grandfather and granddaughter’. I decide to give them identities – A mother and daughter. The mother is confessing her ambiguous behaviour. It is about her life on the run with her husband. She tells how her husband came to her one evening and confesses a murder. She tells him quite casually not to worry and to forget about it! The daughter then begins to understand the coping strategy her mother and father have for each other. The mother goes on to tell, as soon as the pressure becomes to enormous, we move. After all igloos are not expensive, as ice and snow is every where. The daughter puts her own feelings forward and asks her mother, did she at any stage stop to think about the continual upheaval? The daughter points out, they where living on an iceberg now and not the large flat area of the Arctic. She reminded her soon there would be no where to go and it wouldn’t belong before others worked it out. The mother said she felt great shame and unhappiness. The daughter felt a sense of unease; was she to take this information and inform others? Gathering her thoughts the daughter wondered which igloo did the murder take place and was their others. She feels quite unable to cope and begins to feel resentful towards her mother. She ponders and thinks there are so many untold secrets. The daughter tells the mother she has made a resolution, she will keep it a secret but tells the mother she feels she never knew her. I come out of my dream as it is daylight now and the sun is dazzling through the carved door. I cannot see the picture anymore as I am blinded. I get up, dress and squeeze through the door and I think. Here I am surrounded by ice and snow at the North Pole, getting away from it all. But the carving on the door depressed me of what sad lives people have.
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