An encounter in north-west Greenland throws into question the plans of a sportswoman and traveller who embarks on a profound relationship with the Inughuit people. Her anthropology thesis on the evolution and adaptation of their skills had already begun without her realising it. After her academic career, she talks as much as possible about her […]
An encounter in north-west Greenland throws into question the plans of a sportswoman and traveller who embarks on a profound relationship with the Inughuit people. Her anthropology thesis on the evolution and adaptation of their skills had already begun without her realising it. After her academic career, she talks as much as possible about her experience as a tourist guide.
“It’s not a typo, the ‘Inughuit’ do exist and they also consider themselves to be ‘Inuit’,” Christiane Drieux cheerfully recalls explaining to the university secretariat when she submitted her thesis in 2019. Her admiration for her anthropology professors is still tenacious. Charles Stépanoff, Joëlle Robert-Lamblain and Bernard Saladin d’Anglure were “brilliant and extraordinary”. But the friendship forged with a community in north-west Greenland ahead of her social science research was stronger. Christiane Drieux is no longer affiliated to the academy. “University life can sometimes be heavy, but today I feel light.” Not a year goes by without her visiting the Inughuit. “I’ve seen weddings, births, and followed developments.”
Back in the 2000s, Christiane Drieux took part in La Transjurassienne, Le Coureur des Bois and the Marcialonga on cross-country skis. In the summer, she cycled or went on slightly daring treks, such as the route between Kangerlussuaq and Sisimiut in Greenland. “It was difficult because of the permafrost, the lack of paths and equipment”. At the end of the route, she decided to extend her visit to the island. The sign on a coastal vessel read: “destination north”. “No kidding,” she heard herself say. Red, named Sarfaq Ittuk, the ship linked several villages and hundreds of nautical miles away, it was love at first sight.
Her encounter with the Inughuit had a particular impact on her.The title of her forthcoming thesis is : The Inughuit, Narwhal Hunters. Evolution and Adaptation of Knowledge and Know-how in a Changing Environment. The Inughuit still hunt narwhal using harpoons with thrusters, although they are also very aware of the modern world. “When I returned to France, I found it hard to locate them on the planisphere, which doesn’t give them much prominence.” Bear witness? Yes, but how? The traveller is used to writing in a notebook, but thinks that won’t be enough. How do you find the right words without “getting sentimental” and gaining credibility?
The Last Kings of Thule inspired her. She met Jean Malaurie after a conference. “I’m going back up there,” she said, asking him if he could write her a note, “like an introduction”. With a detailed map, she went up there again, and came back with a lot of information about the Inughuit way of life. This provided fertile ground for the idea of resuming her studies in 2009. “Why didn’t I do anthropology earlier,” she said to herself.
Her fieldwork gave her access to ‘this happy community’ whose sense of humour does not spare scientists. “There’s a joke that goes: ‘there’s the dad, the mum, the child and the researcher’”. However, she avoids this pitfall. “They didn’t see me like that, but as a friend.” The fact that they met before the doctorate may well have something to do with it. ‘We developed a bond, an exchange based on human values. Such a strong bond doesn’t always come into being when study grants don’t allow students or researchers to remain in the field.
“Ethnographic research is based on long-term immersion, which means establishing a relationship of trust and friendship with the people who receive us. It’s the only way to do fieldwork,” explains her thesis supervisor Charles Stépanoff. “Christiane Drieux succeeded with great skill in this immersion and established bonds of reciprocity, exchange of ideas and trust of a very high quality, and this is what made her ethnography so valuable.”
Passing on knowledge is important to them. “They want us to get to know them and they have confided in me. I’ve never asked them to put on a show; when I go with them it’s to take part in their activities. They have faith in my loyalty.”
When a director of a tourist company met her one day, his eyes widened. She tried her hand at being a tour guide. “The culture and traditions of this country are little known to cruise passengers. The emphasis is often on whales, bears and birds, whereas there are men and women who live up there. Share my knowledge and experience, my pleasure.”
Transformed into a cruise ship in 2006, her first northbound boat, Sarfaq Ittuk, has come back into her life and is now called Ocean Nova. “I’m happy to introduce my friends from up there, it’s always an immense joy to see them come running to the beach to give me a hug when the boat arrives.” A friendship that is obvious to the astonished passengers. “That is the royal way to get to know them.” After the cruises, people often write to her to find out more. Christiane Drieux deconstructs the preconceptions that abound in Western literature about ‘meat eaters’ and their link with modernity. “Some people go on holiday to the Canary Islands, they study in Canada or Denmark…” And even anthropology.
Camille Lin, Polar Journal AG