Putdlaq Uudloriaq

Retired Hunter

Siorapaluk, Greenland

 

"Two years ago the sea ice didn't form until February."

Putdlaq Uudloriaq is a semi-retired hunter. Unlike Lars Jeremiassen, who to my eyes, looked very European and is probably of mixed-race ancestry, Putdlaq appeared wholly Inuit, with a round face, dark skin and a short, compact body. His body language was economical. He sat still as we talked and gestured only occassionally. Even his face was placid, with little change of expression during our hour together.

I talked to Putdlaq and his wife Puto in the living room of their daughter's house. As I interviewed the couple, their daughter washed dishes nearby and their grandson crawled from one lap to another, made faces for my camera and was showered with attention. It was similar to scenes I've seen so often in Inuit communities, where children are adored. Inuit parenting defies the adage, "Spare the rod and spoil the child." The Inuit intentionally spoil their children. I don't know the genesis of this cultural trait, but I've seen it in Inuit communities from Greenland to Alaska.

The Uudloriaq house was full of stuff. A sewing machine. Piles of clothing. A walrus shoulder hanging from a hook on the ceiling. A plastic gerber daisy. And in a place of honor, on the wall above the propane heating stove, a picture painted by their grandson. It showed a polar bear and musk ox near a human and a house.

On Warming

Putdlaq:  The changes are remarkable since I was a boy. The condition of the ice was solid and thick then. My father used to hunt for several families because it was more solid than it is today. Today it melts very fast and floats out to sea. We cannot hunt as much on the ice as our fathers did.

Two years ago the sea ice didn't form until February. This year is better compared to previous years. We had ice in December. Even so, I went to Qerqetat in early March and made a hole in the ice and the ice was only half as thick as it used to be.

On the Causes of Climate Change

Putdlaq:  The warming could be from natural causes. Our ancestors tell stories of changing weather. It gets colder and warmer in cycles. Maybe this is what is happening. But maybe it is also pollution, hot pollution.

What can we do about it? We do not cry. We take life as it comes.

On Hunting Restrictions

Putdlaq:  There didn't used to be limits on hunting animals. But we had our own rules. We didn't hunt them when they were breeding and having babies. Even today, hunters in Qaanaaq, Qerqetat and Siorapaluk go north for polar bear. Hunters in Moriasaq and Savvisavik go south. This is our natural conservation. We also make our own rules about the use of dogs and the care of dogs. Small things like that. But Home Rule government has put limits on what we can hunt. It is a little better now that we have formed hunters unions. We are trying to fight the hunting limits. But the people of Thule have no voice. Most of our questions go unanswered.

Home Rule government doesn't care about remote villages.  They want to close the small places and they are doing that by taking the hunters' livelihood."

On Life as a Hunter's Wife

Puto:  I married young and became a hunter's wife.  But I cannot compare my life to my mother's.  Life as a hunter's wife is difficult today. Before, the wife would clean and treat the skins, depending on whether they were for clothing or a kayak. But my daughters cannot do that. They must have jobs to pay for rent and electricity. And I cannot follow my husband anymore. My body is worn out.

Teenagers today want different things than they wanted when I was young. They see things, things from outside cultures and want them. That makes it hard to be a hunter, all those money limitations.  

It's hard to figure out how you're going to be a hunter and a hunter's wife today. It is difficult to think about moving because we have family here and we need to help out economically. So we take the situation day by day.  

But being a hunters wife today is harder than I ever expected it would be.