"There is no time out on the ice," says Toku Oshima, "no calendar but the migrations of sea creatures." She can hunt and fish the same way her ancestors did, traveling by dog sled and sleeping in the wooden hut. In Greenland's northernmost town, the old ways are still alive.
But those ways are under threat. Human-caused climate change has disturbed weather patterns and pushed the rhythms of animals out of tune with the ice and sun. Residents struggle to earn a living through hunting and fishing, leaving them unable to afford the imported oil that keeps their homes warm and lit during the long arctic night. The high cost of electricity and heat has forced some people to abandon their traditional livelihoods—or to leave the town altogether.
"Qaanaaq residents should be able to heat their homes without sacrificing their culture," Oshima said. But that will require them to abandon the culprit behind their challenges of climate change and energy security: fossil fuels. Instead, drawing power from local wind and sunshine can reduce the cost of living in Qaanaaq, easing financial pressures on residents who already live at the edge of survival and it can help the town do its part to control the planet-warming pollution that threatens its very existence.
Together with scientists and engineers from Dartmouth College, Oshima is working to bring renewable energy to one of the most remote places on Earth. The effort is in its infancy, with Oshima's partners still development they hope to install. To succeed in such an isolated and harsh environment, they are leaning on the expertise of those who thrived in this landscape for generations. Each design is intended specifically for conditions in Qaanaaq and tested by the residents themselves.
Dartmouth College engineer Mary albert, the U.S. co-leader for the project, sees it as a potential model for sustainability efforts the world over. "It's cogeneration of knowledge," she said," so Qaanaaq residents can continue to live where they want to live and how they want to live."
