The federal election, Nunavut-style

No one looks to Nunavut’s sprawling federal riding for a bellwether community to predict voter tendencies during an election — but if there were such a Nunavut community to look at during this past federal election, it would have been Cambridge Bay.

It was in this western Nunavut town that former Nunavut MP and Conservative cabinet minister Leona Aglukkaq started her political career as a hamlet councillor In 2011, she easily carried the community — and Nunavut —  in the same way that the Tories won the national vote.

This is how Cambridge Bay, population 2,000, looked in mid-September, with Mt. Pelly, 20 kilometres away, peering from behind. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

This is how Cambridge Bay, population 2,000, looked in mid-September, with Mt. Pelly, 20 kilometres away, peering from behind. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

Cambridge Bay, which is never short of news (and previous blog post inspiration) and where I have many friends, seemed like a good place to sit out this federal election.

So I arrived in Cambridge Bay on Sept. 13 and left Oct. 20, the day after the votes were counted.

In Cambridge Bay on Oct. 19, voters decided to support Liberal candidate Hunter Tootoo and the New Democratic Party’s Jack Anawak, leaving the Tories and Aglukkaq in third place in Cambridge Bay (361 for Tootoo, 170 for Anawak, 164 for Aglukkaq and 10 for the Green party.)

How the Oct. 19 vote would shape up in Cambridge Bay became clear to me over the weeks as I watched the scenery change and the ice solidify — like opinions among voters.

When I arrived, Cambridge Bay was still in the last days of its longer-than-usual summer. Then, the days became colder.

Sunset in October by the shore. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

Sunset in October by the shore. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

One afternoon I spotted a field of frost flowers, spreading over the thin ice.

I spotted this frost flowers — formed when conditions are calm and there's a 15 C temperature difference between the air and the water. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

I spotted these frost flowers — formed when conditions are calm and there’s a 15 C temperature difference between the air and the water. You can see the field in the top of this post. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

A view to Mt. Pelly in October at sunset. (photo by JANE GEORGE)

A view to Mt. Pelly in October at sunset. (photo by JANE GEORGE)

The sunsets began to turn unreal shades, with a layer of bright pink mist over a darker blue sky.

In mid-October, the weather turned even colder, just around the time when Liberal leader (and now Prime Minister) Justin Trudeau visited Iqaluit.

There, among other things, he served up stew to hungry people at a community feast.

In Cambridge Bay, everything iced up and the foxes started to turn white.

A fox scampers across the ice in mid-October. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

A fox scampers across the ice in mid-October. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

Meanwhile, the three main party candidates also visited Cambridge Bay to campaign — Aglukkaq keeping a low profile, but the Liberals’ Tootoo and the NDP’s Anawak getting out and meeting people.

Signs for Tootoo cropped up over town. A homeowner kept a “Stop Harper/ Nutqarrit” sign posted on his house.

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The “Stop Harper” sign is bilingual, with “Nutqarrit” meaning “stop” in Inuinnaqtun. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

Students at the local high school voted for the NDP in mock election. And many people talked to me about wanting change.

I decided to write a story for the Nunatsiaq News Oct. 18 about the the mood in Cambridge Bay, and that this Tory stronghold was leaning to the Liberals and NDP,  as story which you can read here.

And on election day I went to the community hall to speak to voters after they cast ballots. I took a photo of elders after they came to vote, a photo that circulated among thousands of people on Twitter.

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A “This is how we vote in Canada” tweet, along with this photo, from Nunatsiaq News’ managing editor Lisa Gregoire saw my photo of elders circulate among thousands of people. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

I was careful to tell everyone I spoke to who I was (if they didn’t know me) and ask them only why they felt it was important to vote — not who they voted for.

A couple with a small child told me “we need help.” The North is crying out for help, they said, because they can’t survive on the $1,300 they receive every month from social assistance. “There’s nowhere to turn for help,” they said.

And the cost of food is so high that why said they couldn’t afford even a pound of hamburger, so they and others turn to the dump to scavenge for food.

I didn’t have to ask which party they voted for.

Throughout the day a steady stream of voters came to vote — and the numbers would show later that, while Aglukkaq held on to her vote from 2011, turnout increased, and three times as many voters in Cambridge Bay came out to support the Liberals and the NDP than the Tories.

I helped my friend Eva Kakolak Avadluk bring her two sons, Anthony and Ashlee, who are blind to the polling station so they could vote, using Braille ballots. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

I helped my friend Eva Kakolak Avadluk bring her two sons, Anthony and Ashlee, who are blind, to the polling station so they could vote using Braille ballots. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

So, more than 500 voters were happy Oct. 20 — but not Aglukkaq’s friends and supporters. One woman wrote me a couple of unpleasant messages and then a comment on Facebook — that made me think again how it’s much harder to report the news in Canada’s North than not.

After I posted the photo of my friends on my Facebook feed, I received this comment Oct. 20 from a friend and supporter of the former Nunavut MP Leona Aglukkaq.

After I posted the photo of my friends voting on my Facebook feed, I received this comment Oct. 20 from a friend and supporter of the former Nunavut MP Leona Aglukkaq.

I was able to delete the comment and block the woman on Facebook: sort of a solution.

But I was reminded again that, in a small Arctic community, you live beside people who may dislike you and bully you into being quiet — a tough situation for people who can’t leave (but one I saw in the 1990s and you can read about here or in a recent two-part series by Nunatsiaq News reporter Thomas Rohner).

Part 3: You know you’ve never been to Iqaluit/Frobisher Bay when…

Let’s go on a little tour of downtown Iqaluit, spurred on by what I read in a recent article more about the 1950-era dome-dream for Frobisher Bay, now known as Iqaluit.

This shows some of what was designed for the then-community of  Frobisher Bay.

This shows some of what was designed for the then-community of Frobisher Bay.

This would have been the biggest Arctic dome ever — “conceived in a manner similar to the gothic vaulting, but constructed in thin shell concrete with ribs radiating from a central pier, as a large fan vault,” reads the design information for “Frobisher Bay: The Design of Accommodation for a Community of 4,500 People.”

Does this seem incredible?

Well,  I am ready to take you to some equally fantastic buildings. But these you can see today in Iqaluit, Nunavut’s capital city whose population is now likely nearing 8,000.

The place to start our tour lies right in the heart of Iqaluit, at the Four Corners crossroads of Queen Elizabeth Way and the Federal Rd. with Mivvik St. and Niaqunngusiaq Rd. It’s a location which, over the past few years, has morphed into a strikingly unattractive place where southern architects’ fancies, or blunders, are still played out.

I can’t help thinking that when the Arctic Council’s top ministers for its eight circumpolar nation members and their entourages pour into Iqaluit at the end of April, they will be whisked from the airport through this — but maybe they can keep their eyes closed and think about climate change.

Heads above all those new structures is the Qamutiq building, which an Inuk friend of mine calls “Noah’s Ark” due to its shape.

The Noah's Ark of Iqaluit. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

The Noah’s Ark of Iqaluit. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

But you may note there are many things to reflect on here with this building:

• its shape — why the ultra-high roof? and why red?

• the name — the huge syllabics are correct, but the Roman orthography is wrong and should be “qamutik.”

You can't miss the misspelling even at night. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

You can’t miss the misspelling even at night. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

• the location — why not hide this building somewhere instead of putting it in the centre of town where the late domed restaurant, the Kamotiq (also a misspelling), once stood? What’s more, you can see the “Qamutiq” from all over town because of its relatively enormous height.

Iqaluit's Kamotiq Inn, now demolished. (PHOTO/NUNATSIAQ NEWS)

Iqaluit’s Kamotiq Inn, now demolished. (PHOTO/NUNATSIAQ NEWS)

Next door to the Qamutiq stands another brand-new and equally unappealing building called the Qilaut, or drum in Inuktitut, which also features some decorations as well weird multi-coloured wings. Why? That’s all I’d like to know.

Iqaluit's Qilaut building and its topsy-turvy annex, March 2015. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

Iqaluit’s Qilaut building and its topsy-turvy wings, March 2015. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

Kitty-corner to these two buildings lies the nondescript Igluvut building where the T-1 building, which used to house the Nunatsiaq News office, once stood.

Here you can’t miss the giant-sized carving, unveiled in 2013 in honour of the 20th anniversary of the proclamation of the Nunavut Land Claims Agreement on July 9, 1993. The commissioning this monument, a collaboration of carvers from Nunavut’s three regions — may have seemed like a good idea at the time. But the end result done by three talented carvers, looks like an Arctic nightmare  — a mish-mash of every polar animal and symbol of Inuit culture.

From every angle there's something new on this huge carving about the Igluvut building in Iqaluit. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

From every angle there’s something new on this huge carving in front of the Igluvut building in Iqaluit. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

Nearby stands the Hotel Arctic, featuring colours best described as mustard and ketchup, and a strange igloo-dome appendage on top. Can you tell me what this is? Enough said.

Here at the Four Corners intersection lies the red and mustard-coloured Hotel Arctic with its dome-ish decorated roof. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

Here at the Four Corners intersection lies the red and mustard-coloured Hotel Arctic with its dome-ish decorated roof. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

Across the street, the low-key, boxy Parnaivik building, whose parking lot lies on the site of Iqaluit’s long-gone mini-golf course.

If you head down the street, looking for other sights, you’ll wonder at the boarded-up, but still operating hotel, bar and restaurant, the Navigator Inn.

Not a lot of natural light these days at the Navigator in Iqaluit. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

Not a lot of natural light these days at the Navigator in Iqaluit. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

I’ll let you decide if you dare to venture inside. A comment on Trip Advisor from a few years ago might make you think twice about this: “Can’t believe that they call this a hotel. The front door locks at 11 and there is nobody running this zoo until the next morning… I’ve been here for 4 nights now and the chambermaid hasn’t been to my room once. Its probably for the better as I have heard of several things walking out of peoples rooms.”

Nearby you can see the Iqaluit of yesterday and today: in the foreground to the right the sole remaining Butler building, former military accomodation from Frobisher Bay’s Cold War beginnings that last served as government staff housing, in the foreground, and, at the end of the street, the Qamutiq.

Looking down this street you travel through time, from the Butler building of the early 1960s to the Qamutiq of today,

Looking down this street you travel through time, from the Butler building of the early 1960s to the Qamutiq of today. (PHOTO BY JANE GEORGE)

And that’s enough for today’s tour of Iqaluit.

Did you read my first posts about Iqaluit?

Part 2: You know you’ve never been to Iqaluit/Frobisher Bay when

You know you’ve never been to Iqaluit/Frobisher Bay when…

And are you curious about the Canadian Arctic of the 1990s?

You will want to read my “Like an iceberg” series of blog posts. You can find all the links here.