Oh the joys of cross-cultural interactions. Today’s topic: the differences in growing up Inuit in Nunavut and growing up with "western" conceptions of morality and norms.
Today I had the pleasure of meeting two Inuk women who came to help Luis clean up part of his house. Funny situation—he told me he was trying to give them a bit of work because he thought they needed money, while they told me they thought they were helping him out because he was unable to clean himself. Ha. Anyways, while they were over I had some very interesting revelations: 1) Many traditional cultural practises are alive and well here in Nunavut, though they tend to vary from community to community. 2) My inadvertently imperialistic attitude may cause me to assume that they know how different life is in the south, when in fact they don’t always. 3) I know that I “know” things are different here, but I need to stop being so surprised when they are.
I wish I could tell you the name of this woman, but it was one of those things where you are both introduced and you don’t really quite catch their name, but you keep going anyways, and then you end up talking for hours, but by then it’s too late to ask their name again… Anyways, her story may be an anomaly, but it is certainly interesting, so I thought I’d share it (and dibs on movie rights to it).
So this woman (who I will arbitrarily call Shepa, the name of another Inuk woman I know), explained to me how she came to be in Rankin Inlet. Her mother had grown up in a tiny community outside of the hamlet of Cambridge Bay (pop 1500). She had grown up with her cousin, but they were really more like sisters. Then, the cousins moved to different cities and started families. Shepa’s mom moved back to her home community when she was born, and that is where she grew up. Then, she met her future partner at her great aunt’s funeral (his grandmother’s funeral…). That’s right—it was her mom’s cousin’s son. They were second cousins, but didn’t realize it for some time. When his parents and her mom finally realized what was going on, it was too late; they were in love—and Shepa was pregnant. She was 15 at the time.
Her common-law’s (as she calls him) parents desperately tried to arrange a marriage for her to a different gentleman (one that was not a blood relative), which is a common practise where she is from (arranged marriages, that is). They were nearly successful—it was 2 days before the wedding when her mother finally let her get out of it. She currently lives in social housing in Rankin Inlet with her common-law, his parents, and “her” daughter.
Quotations are needed here, because the two year old child is not technically her child. She didn’t want to keep the baby (she was, after all, fifteen when she had her), but nevertheless tradition in her community dictates the placement of the first born child—with the grandparents. Therefore, her daughter was “custom-adopted” by her common-law’s parents. Shepa is very fortunate to still be a part of her daughter’s life, as she currently lives with them. Her daughter, however, will grow up with her grandparents being her real parents. Ironically, her grandparents are pretty much the age that many people start having children in my own experience (30-ish). (Shepa told me that she knows a 26 year old grandmother. Just bizarre.)
One of the most interesting turns in the conversation was when we were discussing her actual child birth. She was describing her labour pains to me, and as she did so, her co-worker looked at me in astonishment and said, “wait, you’ve NEVER given birth? Never? How old are you?”
Initial response: Geesh. I’m 24, I don’t need the baby thing thrown at me, I’m pursuing a career, I’m independent, I have a lot on my plate. Etc. And whatnot. So there. (and other indignant thoughts)
But that really wasn’t what it was about. Here it is completely normalized that women have children extremely young. They had never met an Inuk woman that had not given birth at least once before 19 (whether that is a fair statistic, I don’t know, this is just from their experiences). Both of these women have given birth, but neither has kept their children due to both custom adoption practises and financial constraints.
I’m sure in their minds, they were trying to come to terms with how I could be my age without ever having experienced the “joys” of childbirth. I think they saw me as quite old. Which I resent. (But I am trying to understand it)
This post is really just to signify the complexities of inter-cultural exchanges, particularly in a place with such a history of imperialism and with the marked tangibility of a colonial past evident in every interaction, every policy development, every political decision. I’m no stranger to inter-cultural encounters, what with my past travels and whatnot, but I’ve always attempted to adopt a cultural-relativist stance. This time, I’m in Canada. For the first time, I’m seeing the difficulties inherent in fitting unique cultural practises within the current Canadian legal system.
Quite frankly, some of the things I’m encountering here are quite mind-boggling, and from a legal perspective, it can be extremely difficult to deal with (ie in the case of custom-adoptions, how does the legal system navigate the balance between individual rights and cultural traditions while remaining aware of the best interest of the child?) In short—it’s not an easy process. More to come…
(Side-note- Shepa's favourite pastime: NARWALE HUNTING! legitimately. She actually speared one herself. I thought they were just majestic, mythical creatures. Here I thought they didn't even exist, and she's literally killed one with nearly her bare hands. Man alive, what a different world I am in.)
