I was unprepared for the rugged terrain we encountered. I questioned my own ability to hang on, bags flying in the wind, my frozen face, and Cecilia's expression of sheer conquest over the elements. Hurling my large bag in front of me, she pronounced. Hope you don't have breakables, Ellen. Your bag flew off the ski-doo three times.
Arctic tundra is classroom to many Inuit.
Food, clothing and sometimes tools, for elders whose only currency is wisdom and their land. Elders traditionally taught youth to navigate, build temporary homes on rugged tundra far north of tree lines, know when the lip of an iceberg is calving, and distinguish the roars of ice cracking and falling off a glacier, as it tumbles into the sea. Youth learned from elders to know the sounds and understand patterns in order to hear an iceberg's warning. To not hear might result in your ship torn open, your tiny craft toppled, or failure to return home before a dangerous blizzard. Not surprisingly, a variety of teaching approaches made practical sense to Inuit learners.