Immersing into the snow

Snow2Rain fieldwork report from Tasiilaq, East Greenland (Part III)

Now it is my time to report on our walk into the snow. Well, I knew I would be landing in Tasiilaq when winter and the first snow had already arrived and that snow would be part of my daily life. Not only because I’d be staying over winter, but also due to our project topic. Little did I know about all the varieties of snow that would be involved. These are among others snow shovelling, conversations about snow, experiencing the excitement of snowfall and the relevance of snow in relation to ice for mobility and transportation. Entering a snowy realm, I am looking at our interdisciplinary research project, through the lens of my discipline: anthropology, which is about human experiences. Through ethnographic fieldwork, I research human-environment relations, collaboration with a focus on arctic ethics and methods, when engaging with locals, in relation to predicted and occurring environmental changes.

About weather and human experiences 

Let’s start with a short snippet that captures one of my ethnographic experiences and takes you, the reader, along to the scene.

‘It is a still and calm winter morning; the sky is glooming in shades of blue. We are at the Ammassalik Museum overlooking the harbour of Tasiilaq, silently enjoying a cup of coffee and the view. A Greenlandic song is playing on the radio in the background. The song seems to spark the moment. For my understanding, it is mentioned that the band sings about the weather and a simplified translation is provided for some of the lines: ‘No one decides by themselves, it is the weather that decides (for you) in Greenland.’ We nod in agreement, having in mind the vibrating sounds of the piteraq, with the cold wind creeping up and making its way through the cracks into the houses, that happened last weekend.’ 

Background information: A piteraq is the Greenlandic word for a cold and astounding fierce wind, originating on the polar ice cap and sweeping down the east coast. It translates to ‘the thing that attacks you’, as within the matter of a few minutes it can swipe down and attack you with a great force, with wind speeds of 40 to 80 m/s (for reference that is between 145 to 300 km/h).

The sense of the weather links to lesson number one about life in East Greenland: 'Don't expect your schedule to work out according to plan.’ An advice we were well aware of and one which we had received plenty of times before our departure. Still, I was wondering how well we would be able to embody this and let go of control. While it might sound like something negative from a structured and organised perspective, I think it is one of the greatest opportunities as part of my East Greenlandic adventure. Embracing the experience means learning to let go and follow the rhythm of the weather. It certainly does rule the east coast of Greenland. 

All I see is snow

Let’s dive into the snow. We spent a lot of time at least knee-deep in the snow. As the weather changes quite fast, we found ourselves out by the snow sensor on the most cloudy, windy and cold days; amidst heavy snowfall, while hailstones were blowing in our faces or wind gusts were swiping the snow right back into the hole I was digging. This was my ‘hands-on’ practical introduction to snow climatology. In this way, I emerged into a new discipline and learned about snow, climatology and the process of collecting snow data and manual measurements. As it is planned for me, the anthropologist, to perform manual snow measurements throughout my time in Tasiilaq by myself, I was eager to understand as many aspects as possible. At that time, little did I know about unforeseen challenges ahead of me after Jorrit was leaving. Every day is a new adventure and as Jorrit fittingly put it: ‘We are in Greenland, so we have to improvise.’

While each of us has our own perspective, as an individual human being and through the discipline’s lens, it is a process of learning how to bring those together for the benefit of the research and the inhabitants of Tasiilaq. To visualise, each of us might be digging our own hole at times, but we find our way back together in appreciating each other's expertise and contribution to the research. What we are demonstrating with this three-part field report, reveals the strength of our interdisciplinary research. It is about sharing narratives of our individual experiences and reflecting on the process of collaborating. By this, we dare to question and reflect in an open discourse. It is often the small things that create a hurdle but reveal what is perceived as ‘normal’ or ‘usual habit’ in particular settings. We, for example, stumbled across the different usages of specific terms related to snow conditions and how they are used in scientific disciplines and in the spoken language in everyday life. It allows us to think in depth about what we do and value in our own research and how to communicate our understanding in comprehensible ways to other people. Not to forget, improvising in the sense of being proactive and creative on the spot are highly valuable skills in East Greenland.