Snapshots from a recent research trip to the Canadian Arctic
Sappho Gilbert, PhD Candidate, Yale School of Public Health, Department of Chronic Disease Epidemiology
“What’s your dissertation topic?”
Doctoral students are often asked some version of this question. While my specific answer depends on the audience, I usually respond along the lines of: “I work with the local government and Inuit communities in the Canadian Arctic to study how environmental and other variables impact food security and population nutrition.”
TL;DR? Here’s my (short) running title I’ll use in a pinch: “Arctic health and food security.”
No matter my reply, the tête-à-tête virtually always continues with a kindled curiosity: “Wow, the Arctic! What’s it like up there?”
It’s understandably tough to imagine life – let alone research – in the remote, northernmost parts of our globe. In North America, the Arctic is geographically distant from the vast majority of our population; this is true for Americans vis-à-vis Alaska as well as for Canadians (90% of whom live within 100 miles of the United States border). Even if one decides to visit an Arctic destination, it can be logistically complex and quite expensive to get, stay, eat, and sightsee up there.
Interestingly, Iceland and Norway have become tourist hotspots over roughly the past decade. At various times of year, social media teems with the Arctic’s magical nature: frozen fjords; moving, majestic icebergs; the glow of the midnight sun peeking through a camping tent door; and the mesmerizing ribbon dance of the aurora borealis. Such moments are, indeed, incredible and exist all around the Arctic Circle; yet, picturing day-to-day life in a circumpolar community remains elusive to most.
Thus, when the Yale Sustainable Food Program (YSFP) invited me to share a peek into life as a researcher working with circumpolar communities as part of my doctoral studies, I was thrilled. Right after spring term ended, I headed up to the Canadian Arctic territory of Nunavut (the geographic focus of my dissertation) and took these photos during my stay. I hope you enjoy this window into the magnificent North!
Before we dive into the pictures, I’d like to express my deepest gratitude to YSFP for supporting my dissertation research through the Global Food Fellowship Program. I also wish to thank the following additional funders of this community-partnered work: the National Institutes of Health’s National Institute Environmental Health Sciences (F31 National Research Service Award), the Yale Center on Climate Change & Health (Pre-Doctoral Fellowship), P.E.O. International (Scholar Award), and the Yale Institute for Biospheric Studies (Science Communication Fellowship). Finally, I am grateful for the collaborations with and support of my Dissertation Advisory Committee, F31 Co-Sponsors, and colleagues in Nunavut, across Canada, and beyond – without whom this work would not be possible.
Welcome to Iqaluit (Nunavut’s capital), located on Frobisher Bay with a population of 7,429! (Screenshot taken of my Google Maps iOS app)
Flights from “the South” (as the provinces of Canada are called here) to the territory are extremely expensive – and even more so between communities. Someone once told me it cost the same for her to fly round-trip from Pond Inlet to Iqaluit as it did for her to fly between Ottawa and Southeast Asia!
Fresh powder falling steadily at 11 PM in mid-May. Two misconceptions I regularly hear are either that it’s “cold and dark year-round” or that “it must be cold and dark for 6 months straight” (followed by 6 months of light). Neither is true! Well, I guess “cold” is relative, and yes, it is usually much colder in Iqaluit than in Halifax or New Haven (the latter of which was enjoying a perfectly sunny 72°F/22°C when I left it). However, a typical summer day in Iqaluit is close to a chilly New Haven spring or autumn one – a simple jacket should work! Regarding light, only the Earth’s northernmost and southernmost points experience equal periods of darkness and daylight. Grise Fiord, the most northern community in Nunavut, goes dark “only” from November to mid-February and basks in 24 hours of sunlight in an analogous stretch in the summer.
Home base – and a local project partner – for many of us researchers: the Nunavut Research Institute!
The Unikkaarvik Visitor Centre features cool maps, dioramas, some amazing art, and historical, geographic, and cultural information about Nunavut and the Inuit. When you visit, be sure to also check out the curated art and gift shop at the Nunatta Sunakkutaangit Museum next door.
A delightful night in with friends noshing on Arctic char sushi rolls by 100% Inuit owned Sijjakkut. In a word: yum!
Speaking of food, this is one of the heaviest financial burdens of life here. The prices of store-bought food are notoriously high across the North American Arctic; should you prefer to harvest, the costs associated with hunting, sealing, whaling, or even fishing can also quickly escalate. Nunavut Country Food is a conveniently located option in town that sells a variety of harvested food (dubbed “country food”).
On a crisp and windy morning, I treated myself to a quick, pre-meeting bite and coffee at Black Heart Café, a popular spot for casual or business meet-ups.
The Iqaluit Aquatic Centre boasts a 25-meter lap pool, lazy river, waterslide, saunas, hot tub, and fitness facility. On my third day, I ran (ahem, swam) into an old acquaintance during a lunch hour dip. It's a small town, after all!
This stunning mural (located just beside the Aquatic Centre) is one of several you will spot around Iqaluit.