SEE PHOTOS FROM THE GREENLAND CHAMPIONSHIPS IN QAJAQ
The Greenland qajaq championships have gathered participants from all over the country in Nuuk for the past 10 days. Between competition, culture and human expression, the championships tell the story of a tradition that is still alive and well. See pictures from the championships below.
One collapses in his qajaq in exhaustion. Another screams her lungs out in joy at a turn she succeeds in. A wet-eyed mother proudly films her approximately 4-year-old daughter. I have my camera over my shoulder for the Greenland qajaq championships. There is something exciting about having to photograph this sport. Something recognizable and at the same time unpredictable. The north wind has calmed down as a gesture, and the summer brings the colony harbor to life. Quietly, without noise or speed, the qaannat moves around in gliding movements in the water in front of me and the many spectators who have turned up. Most without a jacket and with a smile on their face.
A human in qajaq is like drawing a line through Inuit history. A past, present and future at the same time. The Greenland qajaq championships are a demonstration of power in human expression. The catchy turns. The tough category on the long distance. The composure the participants show so close to the icy sea. Like ballet dancers on water.
Three participants make a turn at the same time. The red eyes of sea salt tell its own story about the past 32 minutes with its head alternately above and below water. The question arises: Why actually do it? But the answer is self-evident. Qaannat in front of me conveys the story further. As a kind of tradition claim. Retention of identity. And yes, there is a competition as a framework that we viewers can understand and relate to, but is not necessarily the most important thing for the participants. They are there in the water for a reason. One they may or may not be able to explain in words, but the fact that they are sitting there in their qajaq is storytelling in itself.
A pompous and symmetrical cruise ship backs out of Nuuk harbour, while the elegant, almost floating, qaannat glide away in front. A striking contrast. The participants are out on the long distance, as one of the last disciplines for the championships. One struggles forward with his neck bent, while another has the energy to smile a little at the spectators. And this is how the participants in qaannat calmly move forward in what feels like endless metres. Exactly as they will do it for the Greenland championships again next year. And the year after that. And as it has been done for many generations.
