Poet’s Corner: Dispatches from the Winter Games

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Priscila Uppal is poet-in-residence for the Canadian Athletes Now Fund during the Olympics and Paralympics. Through dispatches and poetry for the LRC, Priscila will blog about her experiences there and at the Arctic Games in Grande Prairie, Alberta. She is the editor of The Exile Book of Canadian Sports Stories and author of the Griffin Poetry Prize-nominated Ontological Necessities.

Mar 11

Snow Snakes, Arm Pulls, Alaskan High Kicks & Butt Hops

In today’s dispatch I simply want to tell you a bit about the different Dene Games and Arctic Sports I’ve had the pleasure of viewing in the last few days. As I mentioned in a previous blog, these sports have their bases in survival skills, either mimicking hunting or other life-skills or survival actions, or building skills of strength and balance for use in future life situations. Most are short, repetitive actions, with calculations based on height, distance, or elimination of an opponent. Perhaps because the skills demonstrated have their correspondence in life situations or, in some cases, display non-mainstream talents and movements, the monotony has not hampered my enjoyment of the competitions. In fact, I’ve been somewhat mesmerized for hours on end—I could have watched sledge jumping all week.

Kneel Jump (Arctic Sports): Competitors begin on their knees, feet behind them. They can swing their arms, but cannot rock their legs, and then must propel themselves forward, landing on two feet and holding their landing. Scoring is determined by distance. This sport is derived from a survival skill needed for ice-fishing. As most would fish on their knees on ice floes, if a floe began to break away, or ice crack, the fisherman would need to jump quickly—hopefully in a single action—to a safer spot.

One Foot High Kick, Two-Foot High Kick, Alaskan High Kick (Arctic Sports): Variations on the same theme: competitors must kick a fur object (called a seal) hanging from an apparatus. In the One-Foot Kick, the competitor kicks with object with the foot he/she must land upon, and maintain balance upon landing. In the Two-Foot version, competitors must take off, hit, and land with both feet together. In Alaskan High Kick, competitors are seated on the floor, and must hold one foot with an opposite hand, lift and kick the object with the other foot, maintaining balance on the one-foot landing, still holding the other foot off the ground with one hand. Competitors are given three attempts at the given height. If successful, the seal is raised 4 inches for men and 2 inches for women. The heights achieved are beyond the heights of the competitors in all the categories, but the scores are highest for One-Foot High Kick, next for Two-Foot High Kick, and then Alaskan High Kick. These kicks were useful to hunters to point out to others where the animals were without having to yell (which might not be heard anyway, or might alert one’s prey) and without hard-to-see hand gestures. Legs would point in the direction of the animals. I’m told that whether a one-foot or two-foot kicks would be employed would be based on the specific landscape, weather, and the distance between the kicker and the others. The Alaskan high-kick seems to be more of a training exercise in building coordination, balance, and strength.

Arm Pull (Arctic Sports) and Stick Pull (Dene Games): These are person versus person competitions. Arm Pull is much like arm-wrestling, except here the competitors are on the floor and lock their legs. They pull each other’s arms by hooking elbows. In Stick Pull, competitors each grab an end of a stick (the stick resembles a drum stick) that is lathered in Crisco, and must pull the stick to their end, either forcing the other person to let go of the stick or holding the stick away from them for at least 8 seconds. These sports are intended to build pulling strength, crucial for pulling sleighs, supplies, furs, and animals. Stick Pull mimics the act of gripping large, slippery fish out of the water. In earlier competitions, bear fat or blubber was used instead of Crisco.

Snow Snake (Dene Games): Much like javelin, this is a hunting sport. However, in Snow Snake the throw in underhanded and the spear is thrown down an icy track. Scoring is measured by distance. This sport mimics the act of killing sleeping prey. The technique of throwing the spear along the ice, rather than up in the air, would increase the chances of success over long distances and extreme windy weather.

And, of course, you already know about sledge jump—my personal favourite!

These are the official sports included that I’ve had the chance to witness first-hand. Other competitions that I’ve either missed due to attending other events or will miss due to returning to Vancouver for the opening of the Paralympics are: the Arctic Sports Airplane, One Hand Reach, Head Pull, Triple Jump and Knuckle Hop; and the Dene Games Finger Pull and Pole Push. I’m sure you can catch a glimpse of all of these on YouTube.

However, yesterday at the Arctic Sports venue, demonstrations of more Alaskan Arctic Sports and Games were exhibited, local variations on some of the other sports we’ve already seen, such as Back-to-Back Kick (two people link arms so they are back to back and one is lifted to kick the seal), or Foot Wrestle (like arm pull except with linked feet—the winner is able to pull his/her opponent to a seated position). But there were also some unique offerings, such as Toe-Kick, where a competitor jumps to a stick, kicking it back while jumping forward and maintaining balance, or, the audience favourite, Butt Hop, where competitors sit cross-legged and race each other by literally bouncing on their butts—feet are not permitted to touch the floor at any time.

Beyond the skills highlighted, I love the sense of humour most competitors display during the events. They laugh at themselves, at fate, at the event itself, at life. I must tell you that even the Alaskans have now dropped their showboating demeanors—perhaps because they have now made so many friends among the other teams and the ethos of the majority has rubbed off—and yesterday the Alaskans were helping other teams with their version of the high-kick. The Russian men who had dominated sledge jump, could not hit the seal even once. They laughed. Teammates tried to help, even well after the competition was over. Next time, next time you will hit it. And members of the audience were invited to try the butt hop. I tried it back at the hotel and laughed myself silly—I can’t tell you what life skill that one is meant to cultivate!

(I’ve included three sledge jumping poems today, as that event in particular has captured my imagination.)

Photo: snow snake

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