Discover Siorapaluk:

The following day brought calm winds and a clear blue sky. I decided to take a stroll along the sandy beach of Siorapaluk. As I wandered along the shore, my eyes caught sight of a cemetery with white crosses perched on a nearby hill. Intrigued, I made my way up the hill to explore the cemetery and enjoy the panoramic view it offered. As anticipated, the view from that vantage point was truly breathtaking, allowing me to gaze out over the ice fjord. Suddenly, I heard voices, unmistakably Japanese. It was evident that there were multiple Japanese individuals present. Unable to resist my curiosity, I instinctively gravitated toward the source of the voices.

I approached two Japanese men and greeted them with a cheerful “Konnichiwa!” One of them immediately recognized me. “Ah, Kim-san!”

In Siorapaluk, there was someone I had been eager to meet—a Japanese man who had settled here in the 1970s. His name is Ikuo Oshima, also known as the Japanese Inuk (“Inuk” is the singular form of “Inuit,”). He is a hunter who has fully embraced the Inuit way of life. I had known about him since my time studying in Japan in 2008. He gained fame for learning how to control a dogsled alongside Naomi Uemura, the first person to reach the North Pole solo. When I started researching Siorapaluk, I reached out to Ikuo Oshima as the first point of contact. Furthermore, he introduced me to his son, Maassannguaq Oshima, for our documentary project. Initially, Ikuo Oshima had mentioned that he was too old to assist with the documentary work, so we collaborated with Maassannguaq Oshima instead.

Ikuo Oshima was in the process of cutting a bearded seal that he had caught earlier in the morning. During our conversation, I discovered that the other Japanese man was a researcher from the University of Calgary studying Greenland. “Wait, I know you,” I exclaimed, as I pieced together fragments of memories in my mind. I asked him if he was the person I had in mind, and he was genuinely surprised. Back when I was a student, I had read his academic papers.

Greenland may be the world’s largest island, but it is also a small community. However, within a span of 24 hours, I experienced an incredible series of coincidences. In Siorapaluk, I found a Korean book in the house where I was staying, and I actually met individuals from that very book. Additionally, I unexpectedly encountered people whom I had never imagined meeting in person, all the way at the top of Greenland. It felt truly magical. As I made my way back to the accommodation from Ikuo Oshima’s house, the sky above appeared mysteriously captivating.

The next day, we finally set out on a hunting expedition for little auks with Maassannguaq and Kanzi. This was the primary reason for our visit to Siorapaluk, and it was the main focus of the Korean TV documentary crew and myself. Accompanied by a program producer, two camera directors, and myself as the fixer, we had come to Siorapaluk to capture the process of making Kiviaq. Making Kiviaq is a simple task, but it requires patience to truly appreciate it. It is not an everyday dish but a festive delicacy, typically shared during weddings, baptisms, and other special celebratory occasions.

There was a little auk colony located a 30-minute boat ride away from Siorapaluk. As we approached the area, we could hear the distinct sounds of the little auks. I couldn’t fathom how many of them there were. Some were gracefully flying around, while others perched on the rocky hill.

Both Maassannguaq and Kanzi carried large nets to catch the little auks. It was an incredible sight to behold—the very scene I had witnessed on television during my youth was unfolding right in front of me. In those days, it was Ikuo Oshima who caught the birds on TV. And now, I found myself alongside his son and grandson. It was a truly remarkable and sentimental experience.

To make Kiviaq, various ingredients are required, including little auks, a seal skin, seal blubber, and a thick thread. The number of little auks used depends on the size of the seal skin. On this occasion, Maassannguaq filled the seal skin bag with approximately 250-300 little auks. Maassannguaq caught around 200 of them, while Kanzi caught 100. The first step involved preparing an empty seal skin by removing the head, tail, legs, and all the internal organs. This transformed the seal skin into a bag-like structure. After returning to Siorapaluk from the hunt, the little auks were spread out on the floor to cool down. It took around 6 hours for them to cool down completely before they were placed inside the sealskin bag.

To remove any air from the bag, Maassannguaq stepped on it and pressed out the air, ensuring it was tightly packed. Additional little auks were inserted through the holes where the seal’s legs used to be. The holes were then meticulously sewn up, and seal blubber was applied around them to deter flies from laying eggs. Once this process was complete, the bag became heavy enough to be carried by two adults. The bag filled with little auks was buried under stones and left to ferment for a minimum of 3-6 months. During this time, the fermentation process slowly takes place within the seal skin. When the Kiviaq is ready to be consumed, the little auks are removed from the seal skin, their skin is peeled off, and the meat becomes edible.

Interestingly, Maassannguaq himself does not eat Kiviaq, but he proudly claims to make the best Kiviaq in Greenland, loved by many.

Finally, it was time to return to Qaanaaq. We were supposed to take a helicopter from Qaanaaq to Siorapaluk, but when I contacted the Qaanaaq airport, they informed me that there would be no helicopter to Siorapaluk that day. Our mission in Siorapaluk was complete, and after not having taken a shower for five days, we were eager to get back. Fortunately, we managed to find someone who could take us back to Qaanaaq by boat. In just 1.5 hours, we safely arrived back in Qaanaaq, and in comparison to Siorapaluk, Qaanaaq felt like a big town. Furthermore, there was an air of joy in Qaanaaq as the first supply ship of the year had arrived, filling the grocery shop with new and fresh supplies. It almost felt like Christmas.