The
Discovery Channel recently ran a series,
Frozen Planet,
which featured detailed and closeup pictures of life at the North
and South poles. From penguins to polar bears, walruses to crabs, the
persistence of life under these extremely harsh conditions was
beautifully displayed.
One
episode focused on the life-style of humans who live at the extreme
Northern areas of human habitation. (There are no areas of permanent
human habitation in Antarctica.) I am not speaking about those
scientists who spend years living at the poles studying various
conditions – I am talking about people who live there permanently:
the Inuits. And for me this episode raised a question: Why?
Let
me give you a few examples:
In
Siberia, the reindeer herdsmen have their homes built on sleds, and
every few weeks when their flock has used up all the feed in a given
area, they hitch the animals to the sleds and move to a new area. I
realize shepherds have always had to drive their flocks to fresh
grazing areas, but not when the temperature gets up to -20 degrees
on a nice, warm summer day.
The
herders and their flock enjoy a symbiotic relationship – the
reindeer provide milk, clothing in the form of skins, and
transportation; in return they get protection from wolves, predators,
hordes of blood-sucking flies in the summer, and periodic fresh
grazing grounds.
Other
Inuits take to the sea for their livelihood. Imagine taking a small,
flimsy boat out to harpoon a two-ton walrus, in water at 32 degrees
and an air temperature of zero or less. At least these “modern”
walrus hunters have acquired motors for their boats.
I
know people crave delicacies, but these same people take it to the
extreme. Imagine an underwater cave filled with delicious mussels. So
far, so good, but this cave only appears above water twice each year
at the equinox, and then only for a maximum of 30 minutes. They have
to get in, grab all the mussels they can, and get out before the
ocean comes roaring back.
When
I lived on the farm, we had a small chicken coop, and managed to get
a couple of eggs every day. We went into the coop, grabbed the eggs
from the nests, and left. Simple. These people drop a man on a rope
over the edge of a cliff, and the poor guy, the lightest one of the
group, scrambles back and forth across the face of the cliff, taking
eggs out of the nests of sea birds. He has to hope that none of his
buddies has a grudge against him, because his life is dependent upon
their holding the rope on which he dangles. It seems like a great
incentive to gain weight, and let some other dude participate in the
egg hunt next time.
These
are a few of the activities which people above the Arctic circle have
been performing for thousands of years. Again I ask: Why?
******
My books, “There
Are Only Seven Jokes” and “The Spirit Runs Through It” are
available in paperback, or at the Kindle Store.
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