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Nunavut Introduction to Qallunology by Zebedee Nungak Like many Inuit boys of my generation, I had a fascination for Qallunaat (White People) that bordered on awe. Growing up, the few whom we encountered lived in warm wooden houses, while we lived in igloos. They seemed to lack no material thing. Their food was what the word delicious was invented for. All their women were beautiful, and even their garbage was good! As a boy, I had an innocent ambition to be like them. The measure of my success would be when my garbage equaled theirs. I lived among the Qallunaat for seven years in their land, the Qallunaarjuani fantasyland of my early childhood. In that time, my discoveries of their peculiarities sparked my interest in what could be called Qallunology. This is the study of Qallunaat ways in such fashion as our ways have been the subject of Eskimology. The operative curiosity in Qallunology may be neither systematic nor scientific, but is no less informative. Nobody has an academic degree in this discipline. None can be referred to as “that eminent Qallunologist”. So this is uncertain ground, but wonderfully exploitable. Many of us who have been exposed to Qallunaat-dom through deep immersion in their world could write some credible discourses on the subject. There is much to cover: Their names are a translator’s delight. Many are just revenge for early Qallunaat whose tongues were too rigid to wrap around Inuit names, and brutal in their attempted spellings of them. It was most natural for Inuit to assign them atinnguat (nicknames). Their social mores and standards of etiquette could fill several volumes. Their language contains scores of weirdnesses. For example, they will never use a Q without it being followed by a U. Thus their amusing tendency to spell Nunavut’s capital as IQUALUIT. This word’s two literal meanings do not provide too good a moniker for a seat of government, but that is getting too far ahead. Their samenesses and distinctnesses can be utterly baffling. An Irishman from Northern Ireland looks exactly the same as one from the south. A close look at Albanians and Serbs has them all looking like bona fide Qallunaat. Why such savage conflict among such same-looking civilized people? Some rate their own calling: Jaamaniit, who were so long the enemy, and the Ouigouit, whose label could have gone either way if the first of their arrivals had kept saying “Non-non” instead. Several fat books’ worth of subject matter is being condensed to bare introductions here. But, enjoy this launch of a new branch of academia: Qallunology. Qallunology : Atinnguat (Nicknames) Qallunaat were born to be nicknamed when they lived among Inuit. Accordingly, each Arctic community has its own set of such gems. Here are but a few to which I myself can attach a name in English (or French): Qirnitagalaak (Slightly Black), Miqquituq (Fur-less One, attributed to baldness), Navvaataaq (Found By Chance While Lost), Aupaqtualuk (Big Red), Qungisialuk (Big-Necked One), Kigutaittuq (Toothless One), Angajuqqaakutaak (Long Tall Thin, or Slender, Boss). Many who caught on to their Inuktitut nicknames came to appreciate them as special symbols of regard from people with whom they shared affectionate bonds. It is a point of pride for some Qallunaat to have been “badged” with an atinnguaq (nickname). If some seemed derogatory, it was in a most inoffensive and affectionate manner, as in calling somebody Qarliingasik (Drooping Pants), if that happened to be the most telling description of an individual. Atinnguat were mostly descriptive of a physical characteristic, or a trait of habit which defined the namee in the eyes of the Inuit. Guides in a fishing camp had a fisherman who weighed 360 pounds, whom they immediately called Ammalukitaaq (Round, Circle-shaped). Some outsiders who study Inuit ways are quite proud of being called Apiqquq (One Who Is Always Asking Questions). Even for prime, well-known Qallunaat, most older Inuit could only manage “Pai-Minsta Tuutu” for former Prime Minister Trudeau. Then there was “Pai-Minsta Ma-ROO-ny”, and then “Pai-Minsta Jaa-KUIT-sia.” But it was not mere inability to pronounce English or French names which gave rise to this custom. There was an attitude, an element of “During your time in my space and environment, I will call you as I see you” about it. There’s nothing scientific in how one got endowed with an atinnguaq. A tourist visiting for one week was as likely to be zinged with one as a nurse, teacher or clergyman who spent years in the Arctic. It was an equal opportunity practice. There is no Inuit Bureau of Qallunaat Nicknames, but a compilation of all that have existed would be just wonderful! The practice of nicknaming Qallunaat is not so slowly dying out. They are now so common in such great numbers all over the Inuit homeland that they have ceased to be the novelty they once were. Besides, the Qallunaat turnover rate is such that it is literally impossible to get a “feel-it-in-the-bones” handle on a subject sufficient to rate him or her with a decent atinnguaq. Check with your local pundits for your community’s collection of Qallunaat Atinnguangit gems! Qallunology : Names In Qallunology, we take a look at some names which can be considered translators’ delights: Lipscomb (Qaniup Illaigutinga), Featherstone (Suluk Ujaraq), Noseworthy (Qingaqatsangijai), Goodenough (Piujuq Naammatumik), Middlemiss (Qitiraqsaungittuq). Some have no obvious translation, but sound like they have character: McCorkindale, Vandervoort, Sexsmith, Hotchkiss, MacAninney. If sorting out Inuit names was a tribulation for early traders, clergy, police and government officials, beholding Qallunaat names can be an un-perverted joy! The Qallunaat custom of abbreviating first names does not seem to follow a standard formula. Robert can be Rob, Robbie, Bob, Bobby, or Bert. Joseph is Joe, James/Jim, Sidney/Sid, Arthur/Art and Peter/Pete. Charles is Charlie but can be Chuck. What sleight of hand makes a Henry a Hank? And how does Richard become a Dick, if not a Rich or a Rick? Do you see a B in William on its way to be a Bill? Don’t ever say SEEN for Sean (sh-AWN) or JOHN for Jean, if the person is a francophone male, gh-AWNG. Qallunaat women can have very masculine names clicked feminine by ending them with an A: Roberta, Edwina, Donalda, Phillippa, Edwarda. Shortened names are mostly chopped versions; Katherine/Kate, Deborah/Debbie, except for some ready-mades like Wendy and Kay. Liz is drawn from the mid-section of Elizabeth, unlike in Inuit use, where these names are entirely separate as Elisapi and Lisi. Many names can fit both sexes: Michael, Beverly, Pat, Jan, and Leslie. French names are treacherous for letters laid out never to pronounced: Lévesque is pronounced Le-VECK, Lefebvre/Le-FAVE, and Pelletier/PELL-chi-AY. In first names, Gilles is gh-ILL, Jacques is gh-OCK, Guy is GEE and Denis is de-NEE. Many male and female first names sound exactly alike, so vigilance is required to detect the feminine ones: Michelle, Renée, Marcelle, Paule. Don’t ever say JEEN CLOD for Jean-Claude (gh-AWNG CLODE) or JEEN GUY for Jean-Guy (gh-AWNG GEE). For a real treat on names, watch the NHL, not for the hockey, but for the names: Zhitnik, Cunneyworth, Niewendyke, and some, like Vanbiesbrooke, covering the sweater from armpit to armpit. There’s even a Satan, though fortunately not pronounced as the Evil One! (Imagine him playing for the New Jersey Devils!) Some are even coincidentally Inuktitut sounding; Tkachuk, Sakic, Otto. Some names sound musical in their un-Englishness: Jaromir, Teemu, Pavel, Mats. For all of this, we Inuit have been sneaking up on Qallunaat with what I call names not to be associated with hunger or starvation: Kevin, Curtis, Travis, Willis, Brenda, Linda, Stephanie, and Lindsay. But that is a point for Eskimology, not Qallunology. Qallunology : Language Look, Look! See Sally Run! Oh Dick, Oh Jane! Why do your parents have no name? Are all dogs in Qallunaat-dom Spot, all cats Puff? There was absolutely no Fun with Dick and Jane as we Inuit children crashed head-on violently into the English language! The cultural shocks and tremors have never completely worn off those of us from the first generation to be zapped with such literature. Against all odds, many of us became functional, and some even fluent, in Qallunaatitut, this Queen’s English. But Inuit who have mastered its nuances so as to speak and command the language as would a Qallunaaq are very, very few. I have never been one of them, trudging along in a version which I call Eskimo English. For example, I talk about precipitation in a stragedy, not participation in a strategy. This is nothing strange. Qallunaat who are functional in Inuktitut are also many, scores of them trudging along in a Taipsomanialuk Okagunna-launngilanga sort of way. Anglo-Inuktitut, it could be called. (By the way, only four Qallunaat have ever fooled me into believing I was listening to an Inuk, so flawless was their command of the language!) “Hall-OH, How why you?” Learning the basics of English was tribulation enough. Then you encounter some tricky curves, which seem deliberately designed to frustrate the non-English: You can laff (laugh) and coff (cough), but don’t call Mr. Mclaughlin (McLOCK-lin) Mr. McLAFF-lin or Mrs. Coughlin (COG-lin) Mrs. COFF-lin. Commit to memory the useless, silent letters attached to many words for no reason whatsoever: k-nife, k-nee, k-nowledge, g-nat, g-nome, g-nash, p-tarmigan. If you are a private in the Armed Forces, never call your SAR-gent sir-GENT, or the LOO-tenant (LEFF-tenant) Kernel, Lieutenant-Colonel. Don’t spend any energy on why the petroleum jelly is called VAA-se-LEEN (Vaseline), while the road called Baseline cannot be BAA-se-LEEN. In London, the famed river is called TEMS, spelled Thames, but the name spelled James can never be JEMS. In Ottawa, I attended Laurentian (Low-REN-shun) High School, learning to pay attention (a-TEN-shun) so that later in life I could be skilled in negotiation (ne-GOH-shi-AY-shun). (Let me say that again.) What I learned, incidentally, was never to use a Q without it being followed by a U. This may be fine and dandy in English. But in following the rule, I would have to write Quikiqutaaluk for Qikiqtaaluk, represented by Quikiqutani Inuit Association. You are right to feel discomfort about talking of quarmait in Iqualuit. And this subject would be Quallunology. Don’t ever fear to break the rules of English!
One of the most distinctive features of life among Qallunaat, the one most markedly different from Inuit life, can be summed up in this expression of theirs: “Keeping up with the Joneses”. Not much is communal and very little of life’s essentials are shared. It is based on competition, going to great lengths to “get ahead”, and amassing what you gain for yourself. People around you may be in want, but that is their problem. There is a hierarchy of labels for different classes of Qallunaat. There are the poor (Yes, there are poor Qallunaat!), the lower middle class, middle class, upper middle class, upper class, and many variations of sub-descriptions for their wealthy. One can be old money rich or nouveau riche. There are Baby Boomers, yuppies, the upwardly mobile, and Generation X. Whole sections of towns and cities tend to cluster people by their station in life, or economic status. We know Qallunaat, of course, by the way they eat; with a fork and a dull knife known by Inuit as nuvuittuq (without point). There is a whole etiquette to eating too cumbersome to describe in detail. But, if one has the misfortune to burp, belch, or fart during the meal, one has to be civil and say, “Excuse me!” in a sincere enough demeanour. Never forget to say “Please” in asking for the salt or potatoes to be passed. Don’t ever just up and walk away from the table. Having visitors over (having Company) is mostly attached to some ritual of activity, such as a bridge game. If alcohol is served to guests, it is amazingly incidental, and not the main item of attention. Nobody gets drunk, but there is a lot of talking! Then there seems to be an obligation to talk even more at the door before leaving. Guests and hosts lingering forever at the entrance to talk volumes about nothing in particular is one of the surest trademarks of being in Qallunaat-dom. There is a ritual called dating, which is hard to describe in Inuit terms. It can’t really be described as husband- or wife-hunting. Maturing and onward people of opposite sexes mutually agree to “go out” to some form of enjoyable activity. Sometimes it is to test their compatibility as a possible couple, sometimes simply to genuinely enjoy each other’s company. It seems to be a permanent occupation of some, whom Inuit might call uinitsuituq or nulianitsuituq, meaning “un-attachable to a husband or wife.” Qallunaat are fascinating study subjects. There are volumes more to be written about their ways. Thus, the importance of Qallunology. I do hope you are catching on! Qallunology vs. Eskimology Let’s return to some of my original fascination points about Qallunaat. In the Before and After, this is the After picture: Their food is not all delicious, and becomes quite dreary after a while. It is almost never nutaaviniq, “just caught”, and is squeezed of all blood. Their down and out are graphically worse off than any poor amongst the Inuit. Not all of their women are beautiful. And, our garbage nowadays is just as good as theirs, an indication that we have, in much of our ways, become “Qallunatized”. There exist bad and good in any society, and Qallunaat are not exempt from such contradictions. Among them are brain surgeons, rocket scientists, and shuttle astronauts, as well as fraud artists, cult leaders, and mass murderers. There are brilliant legal minds and decorated war veterans, as well as crime bosses and war criminals. In the past, Qallunaat seemed to hold a monopoly on being the only ones who knew what to do. This has changed, and their previously-held appearance of invincibility has been cut down a few notches. Qaujimajualuit, those of them who “know a great deal”, with strings of academic degrees attached to their names, are more often seeking guidance from the reservoir of traditional knowledge possessed by Inuit. Eskimology has long been a serious field of study by Qallunaat. Scores of museums and universities all over the world have great departments and sections devoted solely to the subject. Eskimologists have gotten famous and world-renowned. Serious Qallunologists, on the other hand, are likely to sweat and toil in unrewarding anonymity until the academic currency of their field of study attains the respectability of being labelled officially with an “-ology”. Eskimologists have carted off traditional clothing, artifacts, hunting implements, tools, ancient stories and legends, and human remains, for display in museums, bartering these for very little. Qallunologists will find nothing worth carting away for display. All Qallunaat stuff is for immediate use, much of it disposable, easily replaceable and now available in mass quantities to Inuit as well; from their cordless drill to their satellite telephone, to their Viagra pill. It all costs quite a lot, and one will be prosecuted for stealing any of it! Eskimology was triggered by others’ curiosity about who we are and how we live. It has done so well that we Inuit have in some ways benefited from it by reclaiming some essences of our identity from various collections in others’ possession. Qallunaat, meanwhile, are not in any danger of having to go to museums to pick up remnants of who they once were. Qallunology : To Deflate an Ego Most of us have run into certain types of human beings who stand out by showing their insecurity in amusing ways. These are the smart-aleck know-it-alls who have to demonstrate their newly acquired expertise in things arctic to any who will humour them. Such personalities are not exclusive to Qallunaat, but this particular one fits in the Qallunology files. Something will trigger them to highlight their linguistic fluency in the twenty-five or so words in Inuktitut they have learned in their brief time in the Arctic. They may talk endlessly about their one night sleeping in an igloo, or they may ooh and aah over ordinary things which they find extraordinary. The utter tranquility of being in an igloo is other-worldly if your senses have known nothing but the bustle of city life. In contrast to this age of satellite wizardry, the ingenuity of the design and construction of a qamutik (sled) or qayaq is something to talk about. Each community has a rich set of tales borne of outsiders’ fascination with such things. Those who have heard of my encounters with such people often ask me to tell them the “caribou head” story. The story is not worth telling in Inuktitut because only literal English gives it edge and colour. Here is the basic outline: Once a character identifies himself by his antics, I ask my wife to cook a caribou head. To protect the identity of the ego deflated, I will call our subject Kevin B. In a most usual way, I invite Kevin over for dinner at my house. Without alarm, the invitation is accepted easily enough. There is absolutely nothing unusual about having caribou head for a meal in an Inuit home. Now Kevin, being English, deserves a description in English of what is being eaten. “The lip flap is delicious! Kevin! Have a bit of lip! Oh! The eyeball socket is exquisite! Kevin! Have some eyeball socket fat! The nasal cartilage, WOW! Scrunchy qaqqulaaq!” The graphic description of the menu starts to take its toll on Kevin’s appetite. By the time we get to the nostril membrane, which is mmmm, gooood!!, Kevin might not want to stick around long enough for the brain, the spinal cord stem, or the jawbone marrow. There’s something about eating caribou head that produces enlightenment in a Qallunaaq about how he may not know so much, after all! Without being humiliated, he goes home, more humble, less Ph.d-ish, and ego deflated, but healthier. Qallunology : Pioneering Qallunaat Studies Conferences! Those of us who dabble in Qallunology, have yet to organize a Qallunaat Studies Conference. Meanwhile, the 12th Inuit Studies Conference was held in Aberdeen, Scotland in 2000. Like clockwork, these conferences take place every two years. The event is a gathering of experts, old hands, and Inuit Studies Conferences types who make a profession of being indispensable at such gatherings. Eskimologists galore talk about having been in Sugluk in ’58, Koartak in ’66, or Igloolik in ’83. These are experts tending their accumulated expertise, some being there for the sake of being seen by fellow Eskimologists. Many are old Arctic hands doing some serious hanging around, eager to try out the tattered remnants of their Inuktitut on the few Inuit who might actually show up. I have yet to recall an Inuit Studies Conference that managed to historically arrive at an illuminated solution to some Arctic problem. As in, “Yeah, that problem was solved by So-and-so’s brilliant lecture/paper/presentation back at the seventh ISC.” But people continue to devote time, energy, and money to holding them, so something of benefit must be happening at them. The primary focus of Inuit Studies Conferences is the past of the Inuit. This in itself is not a problem, provided that those who possess the great collections of Inuit paraphernalia are open to making this material accessible to help Inuit preserve and maintain their identity and culture. This turns out to be much easier said than done, and deserves to be the subject of one whole future Qallunaat Studies Conference. A new focus for Inuit Studies Conferences could be dealing with subject matter relevant to today’s Inuit. I can immediately mention some worthy issues: Arctic town planning, where use of space can be de-constricted from the present tendency to lay out arctic towns in concentrations which emulate New York City. Another subject can be garbage and sewage technologies applicable to the new phenomenon of wooden cabins all over the tundra, in prime hunting and fishing locations. These conferences on Eskimology, which have become an institution, should challenge Qallunologists to pioneer a First Qallunaat Studies Conference! What a joy it would be to plan the agenda for that gathering! The ways of the Qallunaat would leave us no shortage of subjects to talk about! I can already see myself doing some serious hanging around there, an old hand eager to try out the tattered remnants of my English on any Qallunaat who might actually show up at the First Qallunaat Studies Conference! Qallunology : What Racism? Some people have attempted to characterize my discourses on Qallunology as racist. Such criticism simply glides off my hide. Over the years, I have winced countless times upon reading some serious written Qallunaat observations of Inuit. The earliest Qallunaat, especially, had a tendency to grossly misunderstand what they saw of our people. In comparison, my snapshots of Qallunaat folk are focused, vivid, and delivered in good humour! I don’t proclaim to be an expert on Qallunaat and what makes them tick. But my commentaries on Qallunology are based on having eaten, slept and breathed their life for some years, learning their language and tumbling along in their tidy-squares thought processes. The resulting recollections are no more superficial than those of the first Qallunaat, who unwittingly illustrated their educated ignorance, when they tried to describe Inuit. Consider British explorer Sir John Ross’ account of meeting Inuit in the Central Arctic’s Boothia Peninsula, on January 9th, 1830: “Going on shore this morning, one of the seamen informed me that strangers were seen…Knowing that the word of salutation between meeting tribes was ‘Tima Tima’, I hailed them in their own language…” The next day, the Qallunaat visited the Inuit encampment: “The females were certainly not beautiful; but they were at least not inferior to their husbands, and were not less well behaved…Their features were mild, and their cheeks, like those of the men, ruddy; one girl of thirteen was even considered to have a pretty face…” In his book, Northward Over the Great Ice, American Polar explorer Robert E. Peary does a take on the Inuit of High Arctic Greenland, from the year 1891:
These Qallunaat described what they beheld through their lens, and Eskimology was born! Likewise, observations on Qallunaat, based on much less wild guessing that the above, cannot rightly be considered racist!
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