Column: A discussion of darkness
photo: Hay River, Northwest Territories, about 4:30 p.m., Dec. 9, 2005.
I'm always asked by friends in the south what it's like to live in total darkness during the winter.Though it's unclear where the idea came from, many people in southern Canada seem to think anyone living North of the 60th parallel goes without sun in the winter.
Yesterday was the shortest day of the year. CBC news reported Yellowknife as having had about five hours of daylight, while some southern Ontario city had about nine.
So in Yellowknife, the days are definitely shorter, though not entirely dark.
The further North you move, the less light there is, but even the most Northern communities are said to see a few hours of dusklike conditions in the dead of December.
Healthy humans need sunlight. And seasonal affected disorder - or whatever it's called - does exist. Yesterday, a cab driver told me the lack of sunlight in Inuvik gave him high blood pressure.
This seemed a little strange to me, and over lunch a friend pointed out that Northerners often deal with the darkness in unhealthy ways; heavy drinking and a lack of excercise being two of the worst. So while darkness may have been the official cause of my cabbie's pressure problem, there were likely other factors at work.
For me, last winter was difficult. I felt like I was going crazy. Living in Iqaluit, the capital of Nunavut - a land without trees and with the kind of wind that can alter your course as you stumble home from the bar - I wasn't getting much excercise; working way too many hours. My life consisted of shuttling from my apartment to work, then occassionally to the bar in the evenings. I felt as if the walls were closing in on me, and I was perpetually tired. Getting on the plane down to Ottawa in mid-December, it was relief like I've never felt.
This winter hasn't been nearly as bad. I've been playing basketball two or three times a week and haven't been drinking nearly as much. I still feel a bit tired, but not such that I'm unable to function. And I don't feel as if I need a break from the North, as I did last year. There have been nights where I felt restless and felt frustrated by the fact there was nothing to do, but I've felt that way during the summer, as well.
So I now wait for the light to creep back into my life. By March, the sun will be seen until eight in the evening, and the cold will be more refreshing than brutal. I've always liked summer more than winter, though the cold is something I've managed to get used to.
And I actually prefer the cold to the stinking hot. You can dress for -50C, but you can only take off so many clothes.
Zai jian