Step time

October 20, 2012

Students in the class of AVC 2013, travelled to Nain as participants on the Chinook Project. As part of the experience, the students craft various pieces of writing. No photos were submitted with this essay, photos are supplied from other trips to Nain and Postville.

On our first night there, once the clinic was set up and everything was in place for the following day, I took a moment to sit on a step outside and catch my breath. We had been on the move since our plane had landed and I had not had the chance to take the time to understand where I was and why I was there. Nain came to life before my eyes as I sat on the cold, cement step outside of our living quarters. I breathed in the cool air and let the sounds of the night wash over me. These moments became a routine for me and although I appreciated and enjoyed all of the opportunities and challenges I faced in the clinic each day, I always looked forward to my step time. Initially, the Chinook project seems like a great opportunity to help out an underserviced area while gaining clinical and surgical skills. But, my nightly routine helped me discover a greater understanding of Nain and has left a lasting impact on my perspective of this seemingly forgotten town, tucked away in the Canadian North.

My first night on the step, I simply watched as dozens of people milled around on the street in front of me. Many of them were filtering in and out of the local pub next door; others were huddled in tight circles. I watched as their laughter cut through the cold night. The whole town seemed to be out, ranging from those aged well into their fifties to those barely out of primary school. My presence did not go unnoticed for long and it wasn’t difficult to see that the groups of people were looking in my direction, whispering to each other, wondering who I was. I waved and smiled, but, that night, I sat alone watching, as they watched back, before finally relenting to the cold air and retiring to my warm bed.

As I sunk down on the step on the second night, I was surprised to see just as many people as the previous night. This time, the curiosity got the best of the younger crowd, and I was surrounded within minutes by wide eyed girls and boys. I introduced myself and immediately began fielding a flood of questions. To my surprise, they were not nearly as interested in what I was doing there, as they were in where I was from and what my life was like 'in the south’. I willingly answered all of their questions. When I crawled into bed that night, I reflected on their questions and their disinterest in the reasons for my visit to their town. I realized that most of them had never even left Nain, let alone Labrador and they simply craved experiences from a world that felt distant and different from their own.

By the third night, I could see an accumulation of fingerprints smeared across the door window and remnants of fogged glass from recent breaths. They were outside waiting for me, expecting me. I wanted them to realize what they could accomplish as individuals regardless of where they lived. I spoke about when I realized I wanted to go to veterinary school. I spoke about my multiple summers of tree planting, when I worked in order to save up money to pay for school. I spoke about how stupid I felt some days and how hard I’ve had to study and work to get through school. I reminded them that when you work so hard toward a goal, finally achieving that goal provides a great sense of accomplishment.

By the final night, I had gained the group’s trust and friendship. I was in Nain, after all, and I had spent all of this time telling them about my life, keenly waiting for the appropriate time to delve into theirs. Some of them told me about the recreation center and how they loved to play volleyball there, others told me about a swimming hole where they passed their time. Many of them told me about four wheeling, hunting, and fishing.

They were shedding their masks and for the first time I saw a group of children. Children who have experienced more hardship than the average adult, but who have the same energy, enthusiasm, and curiosity as any child I have met. I only, just then, began to grasp and appreciate the culture I had been living within for days already.

The night grew late, but my aching muscles welcomed the cool air and their willingness to share their lives with me rejuvenated my tired mind. They started teaching me their native language and would break out in riots of laughter at my mispronunciations. They broke my heart as many of them lifted their sleeves revealing old scars from suicide attempts. They began listing off relatives that had died in recent years of drug abuse and suicide. The conversation spun into a deranged competition between some of them as to who had experienced the highest number of losses. I realized they were pouring out their emotional baggage on willing ears. This form of communication took me a moment to digest; but there was no doubting the apparent pain in their eyes. Here I thought I was the one inspiring them to achieve endless possibilities with their lives, to dare to challenge themselves. In reality, they were the ones who left an enduring impression on me. I went to Nain and gained valuable veterinary experience, but my lasting memory is of the bare cement step where lives connected and changed.