When I was a child, I thought that I could see the other side of the world across the ocean.

I never believed myself to be superhuman in this endeavor; on the contrary, I believed that it was something everything but my (at that naïve age) old mother with her ‘failing eyesight’ could see. It was only just sitting on the horizon; a whole new experience just waiting to be reached. Sitting on the beach by my grandparents' house in New Hampshire, the world seemed so small—if I hopped on a boat I could be in another continent by noon, and there were no doubts in my mind that I would someday make that trek...

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

7/11/2012- 'Nothing More than an Airport' (Kangerlussuaq, Greenland)


Much like coming into Kulusuk back in May, flying into Kangerlussuaq through bad weather in our bright red Dash 8 Air Greenland plane was a feast for the eyes.

After leaving Nuuk (no wrong boarding passes or security this time—in fact, no ID check or security at all, just me handing them a receipt and them handing me a pass to get on the plane and choose a seat) and getting above the clouds which had been causing major storms for days, the flight passed quickly. After less than an hour seeing nothing but white, we dipped below the grey and were treated with our first views above the arctic circle and of a landscape vastly different from what was seen either in East Greenland or the Capital Region. Immediately below us was a snaking river through green mountains, followed by glowing blue glacial water feeding off a glacier and ice cap through the fjord. The plane banked and we seemingly fell downwards towards the glacier, making me realize why so many people spent large sums of money to take helicopter or small plane tours of the area.

Kangerlussuaq is the former Sondrestrom US Air Force Base from World War II. It's built in an estuary and has steep mountains on either side, and is divided by the airport and runway running parallel the two mountians in the middle. This means that you will either be on one side of the runway (with the airport itself, the main hotel, and the two hostels I'm residing in) or the other (with the post office and grocery store, or the other side with residential housing, the sled dog kennel, and the old air force base equipment and buildings), with no way to cross unless you go all the way around.

After arriving and putting my things into a hostel near to the airport owned by World of Greenland (a tour agency), I went to the store for food and settled into the airport in hopes of getting one or two surveys to start the trip off on a good note. As my job the five days in Kangerlussuaq was to survey visitors (both land and cruise based) to assess a number of things for the strategic plan, I would be based at the airport for the time there in order to try and catch people are they were leaving the country; as Kangerlussuaq is the only airport in the country which can accommodate jets, it's the only airport which has flights into Copenhagen. The airport at Kangerlussuaq is made up of the main room with two gates (one for domestic flights that you simply walk onto the tarmac and onto your flight from, and one for Copenhagen flights that contains security, duty free, and a separate sitting area), the entrance to Hotel Kangerlussuaq in the middle room with couches for waiting guests, and a cafeteria on the other end.

Almost immediately I noticed that the only flight left for the day was a delayed flight to Sisimiut, and there were only perhaps ten people heading to that destination. All appeared to be local (thus could not participate in the survey) except one; a bored looking man who took me up on my offer for a beer and survey to pass the time until his late flight would leave. Although the bar wasn'et yet open we sat in the cafeteria, and he spent a good hour talking to me about his life in Lithuania and his obsession with fly fishing, which had brought him to Greenland as a chartered guide for other Europeans.

By the time we were finished speaking the flight was soon to leave and the airport empty. I decided to go on a long walk down to the other side of town, and meandered down the sandy edge of the estuary past the abandoned military buildings and signs warning of arrest if one were to pass. I stopped for a bit by the water's edge; around me was beige sand, purple flowers jutting between white cotton grass and green mountains, with a gray river of glacial water rushing before me. Colors beyond anything I would see at home, let alone what I would expect to see in Greenland, surrounded me.

For a while there laying in the sand with the midnight sun beating down on me, I pondered reality—I kept saying to myself aloud, 'this cannot be real. This is not reality', and in fact, it seemed as though it could not be. Everything looked just like a painting rather than scenery, in ways that I cannot describe them because they would simply seem fake or false.

The next morning I awoke early and began talking to guests, gaining a few interesting conversations and a notice from Jørgen at World of Greenland to be awake early and meet with the company on the other side of town where they would be bringing the guests from the Fram ship of Hurtigruten, which would end their voyage that morning and would be waiting until their flight at 2100. When I arrived the next day I met with Sofia, a woman from Grenada, Spain who had recently moved to Greenland with her Danish husband, who was a tour guide with WoG. After enjoying a cup of coffee the busses started to arrive, filled to the brim with older Northern European guests off the Fram who looked exhausted and not at all thrilled to then sit in a modified old set of barracks for more than twelve hours with only a few tours running.

As the time passed and the guests got more bored, they began to catch my eye and speak English (despite an hour or so before when they claimed they spoke none). By the end of the day, nine hours later, I'd spoken with twelve couples/individuals about their time in Greenland, and was invited to join the group at a barbeque at Restaurant Roklubben, a restarurant a few kilometers from the airport in the moutains, at the head of Lake Fergusson, where Kangerlussuaq gets its water supply from. After enjoying some reindeer and musk ox, I heard American English coming from the dock outside and followed it down to meet six scientists from the US. I had a beer with them and caught a ride back in their work van, enjoying being around people my age who spoke my language who were also living far from home.

The next day I again woke early to speak to guests off the ship Clipper Adventurer, contracted by the Danish company Albatross Travel. I spoke for a while with a travel agent off the ship who refused to do a survey—however overhearing us and then asking if I would interview her was a 92 year old grandmother, who was wheelchair bound. Surprised, I sat on the gravel next to her chair as she talked happily to me about her trip and reasons for coming. Goosebumps appeared on my arm as she told me outright she didn't have many years left or long to live, so she sold her flat and wanted to spend all her money before she died by traveling with her family to places she wanted to go and wanted them to see. Later another couple I was interviewing told me that the entire ship called her 'grandma' and that they would carry her when she could not get somewhere; renewing my hope that, in fact, people are good if given the chance to be such.

Time flew by and before I knew it I was at the end of this trip—I had been told before my departure that it was foolish to get my hopes up, and that I would be extremely bored while in Kangerlussuaq because its 'nothing more than an airport'. Funnily enough, it ended the exact opposite for me; even after traveling to more touristy deastinations such as Tasiilaq or Ilulissat, Kangerlussuaq remains a haven for me because it's nothing more than an airport. The absolute silence and peace, framed by unreal sights, away from life—to me, that's what I enjoy most about Greenland; experiencing a place which most people land into and fly from without more than a cursory glance or camera snap.




No comments:

Post a Comment