It is my last evening in Nuuk. I’m exhausted. I have desperately been running around interviewing people, securing new contacts and laying the ground for those who come after me. There is so much to do. Everyone feels it. I can feel the excitement when I start talking, how people immediately engage in the story. It is a massive high, but it also leaves me drained. My brain is swollen, I’m sure of it. I find it hard to collect my thoughts. I have worked 14 hour days since arrival – apart of course from the day after party night. I cannot begin to grasp the material I have already collected.
I didn’t get to do the things I wanted here in Nuuk. Or rather, from a work perspective, I am very satisfied with the priorities I made, but I could have used one more week. I didn’t get to interview all the people I would have liked to talk to, but I have secured contacts that I could only have dreamt of before leaving Australia. I also didn’t go to the museum and I still haven’t bought a single present. Not even for me.
Tomorrow I leave for Qaqortoq, which is my last stop before returning to Copenhagen. Thursday and Friday will be the same circus of running around as fast as I can; then I have the weekend and Monday, which is Pentecost. Three days off. I am crossing my fingers, arms and legs that shops are open and I can find that one thing, which will sit on my desk and remind me of this place. Hopefully something will fall into my lap.