A dose of our own medicine

*Photograph  by Natasha Henwood

My family are nomadic – my husband and I by choice, our son by grim reluctance. Since I left home as a teenager, I’ve not lived in one town more than five years, or in one abode more than three. The average, over the past 24 years, is one move per year. Our friends are always saying goodbye, sad to be left behind, while we look to the next adventure.

In Greenland, we’ve had our come-uppance. Nuuk is by far the most transient place I have lived.

A recent report based on the annual survey of Government of Greenland workers left me with the stunning information that the average time spent in any government job is 1.1 years. At almost three years in my position, I am one of the old guard. Of the thirty people who work in my Ministry, 16 are more recent than me. And then there’s the 9 or 10 who’ve come and gone in the same period, including 3 ministers – also not unusual. Turnover is so high that sometimes I honestly have trouble remembering people’s names.

Sadly, for us this time, the transition from last autumn to spring saw every one of our closest friends leave Greenland to return to Denmark or the Faroe Islands. Every…single…one.

But in the face of social adversity, I have to insist, to myself as much as anyone, that the world is yet our oyster. Nuuk may be one of the smallest capitals, at 16,000 people, but that’s still more people than I will ever meet, and a huge number are arriving (and leaving) all the time. The world is filled with an endless supply of fascinating people. One must simply have the courage to go out and find them.