Polar Bear Encounter
The first live polar bear I saw was a cub and it was in a family's house watching tv. It was 1980 in Repulse Bay, Nunavut, which was then home to several hundred people. Then it was still part of the Northwest Territories. Repulse Bay is smack dab on the Arctic Circle. I think it was October and the ground was frozen with a skiff of snow covering it.
A local hunter shot a female adult bear not knowing she had a cub. So he brought the cub back to town and kept it at his house until the wildlife officer could come to Repulse Bay to pick it up. The cub was the size of a large puppy and very very cute.
The family living in the house included quite a few people which is typical for northern housing which is often overcrowded with several generations and extended family living under one roof. Of course there were babies, toddlers and older children in the mix as well. The house was a 3-bedroom bungalow about 800 sq. ft. and part of the government's social housing program. Most housing, by far, was social housing at that time. There is now more privately owned homes but at the time you got your housing through your employer or through social housing.
I'd heard about the bear cub and was very interested in seeing it. I went to the house of the hunter who'd shot the mother bear and was the temporary guardian of her cub. The cub was the main attraction in town that week.
You're not required to knock on the door when visiting a northern home. In fact, knocking and waiting to be let in is considered impolite as someone inside has to come to the door and open it to let you in. Totally unnecessary by northern etiquette standards. However, you are expected to make some noise in the cold porch or on the stairs leading up to the house so those inside are alerted to your imminent arrival. For example, stamping your feet in the porch to knock the snow off is one very common way to let people know they are about to have company. I learned about and started practicing this noise versus knocking thing early on when I moved to the easter arctic. I wanted to be polite according to local customs. However, I found that people inside were often a little surprised when I opened the door and they saw it was a "kabloona" or white person. I sensed a quick (but very subtle - Inuit are masters of subtlety) shift from a relaxed, chillin', laid back repose to a look or body language that implied (to me) wariness and perhaps anxiety. About what? That I was a high demand visitor and they felt pressured to make me comfortable and welcome in a way that would take effort or even be impossible? (I don't know because I never checked out my perceptions so all of this remains my own thoughts.)
When I walked into the cub's temporary housing folks were not too surprised because Repulse Bay was so small everyone knew who was in town - especially kabloonas from Rankin Inlet working for the government.
People would come out to see who got off and onto the weekly flight. I was in town as the brand new regional recreation development officer with the Government of the Northwest Territories. I'd already met with the hamlet council and a few of the folks most involved in organizing social activities like dances and traditional games. So after making the appropriate sounds and opening the door, I was welcomed into the house with smiles and slight nodding of heads.
I stayed by the door and took in the calm chaos in the living room. There were quite a few people in the small room but the one I picture most vividly is a baby in a walker. The tv was on and the cub seemed to enjoy watching it. The cub stood up on its back legs and batted at the tv with its front paws. I remember the sound of its nails on the tv screen. The cub was unbelievably cute and more than one person in the room was moved to pick it up or play with it as you would a puppy.
I later heard that the cub tried to nip a baby in the house. I wonder if it was the baby in the walker. Or if the baby remembers today the cub or the attempted nipping. That "baby" would be over 30 years old today. Anyway, after the attempted nipping, the cub was kept away from people until the wildlife officer came for it. I wonder if the bear got to watch tv wherever it ended up - probably at a zoo - and, if so, what its favorite shows were.
Since that first encounter I saw bears in Arviat from our living room window hanging around in the fall waiting for the sea ice to form. Come November 1 they would be gone. Not a coincidence as that's the day bear hunting season starts and hunters lucky enough to get a bear tag are intent on getting themselves a bear. (I wrote a newspaper article on a 5ft Inuit woman who shot herself a bear.) Leading up to November 1 everyone in town was cautious about the lingering bears as sometimes one would come to town. Halloween in Arviat had an extra scary edge for trick or treaters. Not only did you have to watch out for ghosts and goblins, but also live bears. Most trick or treaters were driven around on ATVs by their parents. Plus, the by-law officers patrolled the edge of town on Halloween night and kept an eye out for any bears in costume sneaking into town to get themselves a Halloween treat.
A local hunter shot a female adult bear not knowing she had a cub. So he brought the cub back to town and kept it at his house until the wildlife officer could come to Repulse Bay to pick it up. The cub was the size of a large puppy and very very cute.
The family living in the house included quite a few people which is typical for northern housing which is often overcrowded with several generations and extended family living under one roof. Of course there were babies, toddlers and older children in the mix as well. The house was a 3-bedroom bungalow about 800 sq. ft. and part of the government's social housing program. Most housing, by far, was social housing at that time. There is now more privately owned homes but at the time you got your housing through your employer or through social housing.
I'd heard about the bear cub and was very interested in seeing it. I went to the house of the hunter who'd shot the mother bear and was the temporary guardian of her cub. The cub was the main attraction in town that week.
You're not required to knock on the door when visiting a northern home. In fact, knocking and waiting to be let in is considered impolite as someone inside has to come to the door and open it to let you in. Totally unnecessary by northern etiquette standards. However, you are expected to make some noise in the cold porch or on the stairs leading up to the house so those inside are alerted to your imminent arrival. For example, stamping your feet in the porch to knock the snow off is one very common way to let people know they are about to have company. I learned about and started practicing this noise versus knocking thing early on when I moved to the easter arctic. I wanted to be polite according to local customs. However, I found that people inside were often a little surprised when I opened the door and they saw it was a "kabloona" or white person. I sensed a quick (but very subtle - Inuit are masters of subtlety) shift from a relaxed, chillin', laid back repose to a look or body language that implied (to me) wariness and perhaps anxiety. About what? That I was a high demand visitor and they felt pressured to make me comfortable and welcome in a way that would take effort or even be impossible? (I don't know because I never checked out my perceptions so all of this remains my own thoughts.)
When I walked into the cub's temporary housing folks were not too surprised because Repulse Bay was so small everyone knew who was in town - especially kabloonas from Rankin Inlet working for the government.
People would come out to see who got off and onto the weekly flight. I was in town as the brand new regional recreation development officer with the Government of the Northwest Territories. I'd already met with the hamlet council and a few of the folks most involved in organizing social activities like dances and traditional games. So after making the appropriate sounds and opening the door, I was welcomed into the house with smiles and slight nodding of heads.
I stayed by the door and took in the calm chaos in the living room. There were quite a few people in the small room but the one I picture most vividly is a baby in a walker. The tv was on and the cub seemed to enjoy watching it. The cub stood up on its back legs and batted at the tv with its front paws. I remember the sound of its nails on the tv screen. The cub was unbelievably cute and more than one person in the room was moved to pick it up or play with it as you would a puppy.
I later heard that the cub tried to nip a baby in the house. I wonder if it was the baby in the walker. Or if the baby remembers today the cub or the attempted nipping. That "baby" would be over 30 years old today. Anyway, after the attempted nipping, the cub was kept away from people until the wildlife officer came for it. I wonder if the bear got to watch tv wherever it ended up - probably at a zoo - and, if so, what its favorite shows were.
Since that first encounter I saw bears in Arviat from our living room window hanging around in the fall waiting for the sea ice to form. Come November 1 they would be gone. Not a coincidence as that's the day bear hunting season starts and hunters lucky enough to get a bear tag are intent on getting themselves a bear. (I wrote a newspaper article on a 5ft Inuit woman who shot herself a bear.) Leading up to November 1 everyone in town was cautious about the lingering bears as sometimes one would come to town. Halloween in Arviat had an extra scary edge for trick or treaters. Not only did you have to watch out for ghosts and goblins, but also live bears. Most trick or treaters were driven around on ATVs by their parents. Plus, the by-law officers patrolled the edge of town on Halloween night and kept an eye out for any bears in costume sneaking into town to get themselves a Halloween treat.
posted by Karen B. | 11:24 AM
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