In 2019, at the start of my doctoral studies I relocated to Katarokwi; Kingston, Ontario on the traditional homelands of the Haudenosaunee, Anishinaabek and Huron-Wendat nations. For me, my move to Kingston was never intended to only provide a launch pad for my research in Inuit Nunangat. I arrived ready to commit- aspiring to make Kingston my new home. The first months after my arrival were filled with activities to learn about- and build a relationship with this land, the communities on it, and its stories. I immersed myself, for my hope was that this place could perhaps eventually become a new home for me. Which it did, in multiple ways, over time. The building of these relationships however became somewhat more complicated from 2020 onwards. The COVID-19 pandemic ended up uprooting me from all my home-bases, both Dutch and Canadian.

Netherlands in isolation

I initially chose to take shelter in my country of origin; the Netherlands. I stayed there for three months, after which the first wave of covid-19 had seemed to have passed. Having a high-risk parent, I did not take shelter in my family home in the Netherlands, and as a result I initially had to pay rent for apartments both in Kingston and the Netherlands. After the first two months of self-isolating in an apartment in Amsterdam, I moved in with my sister and her family, where I slept on an airbed and shared a room with my 2-year old nephew. Despite a lack of privacy, it was nice to be close to family and spend time with my nephew. I preferred it above being alone in an apartment.

Nevertheless, my commitment to be present, and make a new home in Canada- combined with the financial stresses of double rent- eventually drew me back to Ontario at the first seemingly reasonable opportunity.

Kingston in isolation

The reality of returning to Canada as an international student, during the Covid-19 pandemic, was- while I acknowledge my privilege of being able to stay safe and healthy- rough for me. Once back in Ontario, I was stuck in my tiny apartment by myself, without a university campus to go to, or access to the regions in which I would have to conduct my fieldwork. I developed an obsession with making puzzles and watching Kate Winslet’s entire film oeuvre. I also wrote a lot. In the year that followed, between my return to Kingston in the late Summer of 2020 and the Summer of 2021, I worked on what would eventually become the testimonial reading of Gjoa Haven’s Voices of Thunder.

By April 2021, I received the news that I was the recipient of a Vanier Canada Graduate Scholarship, and by the end of June 2021 I had to return to the Netherlands for family matters. During this latter trip, I was offered an affordable apartment in Amsterdam- and decided, considering the ongoing uncertainty of Covid-19 pandemic to accept. One month later, In July 2021, I received the news that we could travel to Nunavut again for fieldwork, and Canada slowly started to open up again. From July 2021 onward, I continued my Phd in a state of flux.

I would come to Canada for fieldwork, and spent an average of six weeks up North each trip. I would then stay, on average, another six weeks in Ontario. Usually I would spend up to twelve weeks back home in the Netherlands, before I would return to Canada.

Invitation: Trail-off to explore how buying a campervan helped me navigate being a graduate student during times of Covid

Return to cut 1 "Voices of Thunder: Ongoing conversations"

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