Ick, sick

I'm not good at being sick. In fact, I'm so bad at it that I'm refusing to acknowledge that I am sick.
It's just a sore throat.
And a cough.
I don't actually FEEL sick.
And I think maybe I had food poisoning last night.

But I'm fine. I've got Buckley's, I've got two flavours of Halls (lemon-honey because I hate it and won't eat it like candy, black cherry because I love it and is sugar-free so it won't leave my teeth all cruddy), and I've got a constant supply of cold water. I'm fiiiine.

Too bad I make a living TALKING. Sigh.

But enough about me.

I'm sure most of you have heard by now ("you" being my "southern" readers... not my northern counterparts), but we had a bit of a sad day yesterday/Monday night. A RCMP officer was shot and killed in a small community to the south of Iqaluit, on Baffin Island.

I refrained from blogging about this, because I think so many people have expressed their condolences in ways I can't quite do. So in case you thought I was too wrapped in my own personal drama (what exists of it... my moving crates, after all, are just oh-so-gossip-worthy) to have noticed there was a murder in my new home... sorry. I wish. My editor/the senior reporter in Iqaluit has been the go-to source on the story for a lot of the country. I think she's done an amazing job of handling the situation.

The RCMP station sits directly beside the CBC in Iqaluit. I can't imagine what it must have been like to be in the office yesterday/Tuesday.

I think there's a lot of concern out there... perhaps from even my family... most likely my grandparents... that the North is a dangerous place for me to have moved. I don't know what to say to that. I've been incredibly lucky. People have been very kind to me, and the "scariest" thing to have ever happened to me was when I couldn't find all the kids hiding in my closets. But then again, I know people who have been the target of some serious racism here. So you have to be smart, I guess. But let's be honest, this place is no more dangerous than Ottawa. Where more than one woman was abducted, not far from where I lived, in the four years I was there.

I think that what makes this so different is that we (us "southerners") just aren't used to being in the minority. And being a minority... especially in places where there is a sticky history... leads to "othering" and misunderstanding. I think back now to when I was being interviewed for my job... and I really brushed off their questions about "have you thought about what it would be like to be in the minority." I think I said something about I'd been a linguistic/cultural minority more than once in my life, and that its something I would have to take in stride.

And I guess that's what I'm doing, but its hard to see things like this happen along the way.