One small city's big language divide

If you speak only Inuktitut in Iqaluit, visiting a pharmacy could be life-threatening

John Thompson | Nunatsiaq News | November 1, 2007

To understand the importance of Nunavut’s draft language laws, look no further than the pharmacy in Iqaluit’s NorthMart.

There, elders who are unable to speak much English try to comprehend instructions, which may be of life-or-death importance, given by non-Inuit pharmacists, who resort to hand gestures and crude drawings while dispensing drugs.

No Inuit work behind the counter. No Inuktitut labels or instructions are provided. If elders don’t understand the well-meaning pharmacists, and are unaccompanied by family, their only hope may be that a passing shopper stops and helps.

It’s just one of many bewildering experiences that elders must encounter routinely in Nunavut, which English speakers may need to travel overseas to understand.

Order a hamburger or coffee. Mail a package at the post office. Pay a bill. These simple activities may be difficult to perform in Inuktitut, especially in Iqaluit, but also in Nunavut’s other regional hubs, and other communities where the presence of English continues to spread.

And if elders can’t feel at home here, asks Madeleine Redfern, a graduate of the Akitsiraq law class and a supporter of the draft language laws, then where?

“That’s why we have Nunavut. That’s why we had the land claim.”

Some businesses in Iqaluit don’t need to be bullied by language laws to provide service in Inuktitut. The Valupharm pharmacy, for example, employs two Inuit staff. Inuktitut labels are printed off and stuck to medicine bottles for elders.

In fact, NorthMart’s pharmacy provided Inuktitut instructions also, until last November, when the store changed its computer equipment.

A similar range of service is found in Iqaluit’s restaurants. Inuit visitors often frequent the Navigator Inn, where they can count on Inuktitut service, although menus are in English only.

The new Nova Inn hotel also makes a point of using an Inuktitut-speaking server in the dining room, and menus are currently being translated - which may require the invention of new words to describe entrées such as “chicken red thai curry.”

In contrast, hungry diners are hard-pressed to find Inuktitut service at either the Discovery Lodge or Frobisher Inn.

This will almost certainly change, when Nunavut’s new Official Languages Act and Inuit Language Protection Act become law. The bills call for any business serving the public to be able to do so in Inuktitut. Signs must also display Inuktitut in equal prominence with other languages. This raises plenty of questions, especially for small operations.

Take Scotty Strong, who hails from Edinburgh, Scotland. He’s made a living cutting hair in Iqaluit since 1988, and now operates out of a small space that is identified from the street, near the Trigram Building, as “The Barber.”

He already plans to have the sign translated. But it would be absurd to expect Strong, who speaks only a little Inuktitut, to hire an interpreter to sit by his side as he takes a little off the top. The cost would likely bankrupt him.

As he says, “If people want to have a talk in Inuktitut, it’s going to be a pretty one-sided conversation.”

He will likely be exempt from the requirement to speak Inuktitut while trimming hair, because this would cause “undue harm” to his one-man operation.

Nunavut’s language commissioner will likely decide to what extent businesses must comply with the new laws. Redfern says it’s important this is done in a reasonable fashion. To understand why, hop in a taxi cab in Iqaluit.

One is more likely to hear French than English, as most drivers are from Quebec. Few drivers are Inuit. Pai-Pa Taxi, which has about 50 cabs on the city streets at any one time, only has about two Inuit drivers.

Craig Dunphy says the company has tried to recruit more Inuit drivers, with little success - perhaps because Inuit with a driver’s license and clean criminal record find better jobs. He doubts any language law will change this.

Besides, most Iqaluit residents direct a cab by announcing their building number. And even Inuit do this in English, because numbers are simpler to say in English than in Inuktitut.

It’s a reminder that Nunavut is a bilingual society - and that nearly all Inuit speak some English and Inuktitut.

Dunphy has no problem with the language laws, he says, “as long as it doesn’t get stupid.”

It doesn’t need to be, Redfern says. She suggests an inexpensive way to help elders travelling by cab to destinations with no building number, such as the airport and hospital: drivers could carry a sheet with pictures of these buildings, which elders could point to.

“There’s lots of flexible and creative ways to accomodate,” Redfern says.

Elsewhere, at the Astro Theater, nearly every film shown is in English, yet the business may need to hire someone who is capable of selling popcorn and Pepsi in Inuktitut.

Bryan Pearson, the owner, wonders how many Inuit teens who frequent the theatre speak Inuktitut. English is the dominant language for many Inuit kids, especially in Iqaluit.

But that’s exactly the point, replies Redfern. If Inuktitut is to survive, she says, Nunavut residents must be able to use the language to do everyday stuff, including buying popcorn - which may also require a new word.