Levi Nungak

JOHN AMAGOALIK

The first two years of our High Arctic exile were pretty difficult. I don’t remember too much cheerfulness or laughter during that period. The second wave of exiles changed some of that. Levi Nungak and his family were a part of that second wave in 1955. He had arrived to be with his older brother Salluviniq.

Levi was a man who loved to laugh. His belly laughs and his all-round cheerfulness was felt by everyone around him. It was fun just to be in the same room with him. No one was a stranger to him for very long. He had the ability to make instant friends. No one ever felt unwelcome in his house. Many times, I saw some tense situations become more relaxed when he was around. This was not a conscious effort on his part. His good nature just seemed to have a calming effect.

In his heyday, Levi was a great hunter. Travelling by dog team, he would hunt polar bears all alone. Sometimes he would be gone for weeks in the middle of a High Arctic winter when there was almost no daylight. Sometimes he came back with as many as 15 bear skins in one trip.

I went on many dog-team hunting trips with him in the spring when I was a little kid. I remember him laying down on the qamutik on the return home and start snoring almost immediately. We also shared some great adventures on canoe hunting expeditions when I was a little older.

The Laughing Man of the High Arctic is no longer with us in body. He died recently of a massive heart attack. All of us who knew and loved him will cherish his memory.

He has left an impression on the lives of people who remember his smiling face. The family he left behind have reason to be proud of him.