Lisa's Journal Wednesday, August 16th, 2006
Edmonton to Inuvik is a five-hour flight with a brief stop in Yellowknife, the NWT capital.
Every second passenger boarding the smaller plane to Inuvik is carrying a box of Tim Horton's
doughnuts.
Wael Rafat (left) and Ayman El Shafei from Inuvik.
August is the rainy season in Inuvik. Dirt roads are now mud roads. I'm glad I'm
wearing brown pants. The first person I meet is taxi driver Wael "Wally" Rafat,
a fast-talking, deal-making Egyptian who gives me his card with a wink and exacts a promise
to call the next time I need a ride. The second person I meet is Bethzy Cabrera, the Filipino
receptionist at the Finto Lodge where I'm staying. "It's so different from
where I grew up," says Cabrera. "There's no snow there and the sun sets
regularly."
"Every
second passenger boarding the smaller plane to Inuvik is carrying a box of Tim
Horton's
doughnuts"
During supper at the Finto lounge, I learn
from the bartender that a Cessna 337 crashed today during a flight from Fort Good Hope to
Norman Wells killing all six on board including the brother of a man I was hoping to interview.
I turn to an old copy of the Inuvik Drum newspaper and read about a July car crash
on the Dempster Highway which killed five men. I'm reminded that life in the north
can be cruel. People proudly profess their endurance here but under that bluster, there is
a frailty and everybody knows it, girds against it.
My long distance phone card has a picture on it that looks like Florence, Italy. I am nowhere
near there. I stare out the window at the blazing, 11:30 p.m. sun. I'd forgotten how
disorienting that is.
Unlike other highways, the Dempster Highway sits on top of a 4-8' gravel berm that helps insulate the permafrost soil beneath it. This layer is necessary to keep the permafrost from melting and the highway from sinking.
