Kerry McCluskey
Northern News Services

Iqaluit (Feb 11/02) - In Inuktitut, a simple slip of the tongue can cause untold embarrassment and personal hardship.

Easy mispronunciations, many of which are difficult for the English-speaking ear to detect, change the entire meaning of a word in a heartbeat.

This, if you're shy of erring publicly, can make learning Nunavut's primary language feel as nerve-wracking as walking on thin sea ice.

That said, out of respect for the territory and Inuit culture, it is a challenge newcomers to Nunavut really must take.

A word to the newly arrived, however: keep your sense of humour at the ready. You'll need to laugh at yourself as you make some pretty hilarious mistakes.

Mick Mallon, an instructor of Inuktitut for 43 years, has heard it all.

He recounts one story involving an unnamed public official who wanted to tell an elder to go ahead and speak at a meeting -- nillilaurit. Instead, he told her to go ahead and fart -- nililaurit.

"People just blunder the language," says Mallon, who prefers to teach Inuktitut with an Inuk so students hear how words are truly pronounced. "It keeps me honest and people really get to hear what the words sound like instead of hearing them from a displaced Irishman," jokes Mallon.

He also points out the trap that lies in wait as Inuktitut students first learn the word for woman -- arnaq. By simply dropping the nasal "r," students run the risk of accidentally using the word for feces or defecation -- anaq.

Scary? It gets worse.

The words for oil (uqsuq) and penis (usuk) have been mixed up, perhaps most noticeably by an on-air radio reporter.

The word for thank you (qujannamiik) bears more than a passing resemblance for the phrase kujangnarmiik, which means "what an occasion for copulation."

But the challenge of teaching a group of brand new Nunavut residents how to wrap their tongues around an Inuktitut "q" or get the "ng" sound to appear to come out of their noses has not lost its appeal.

"I look forward to a new class every time," Mallon says, his eyes dancing at the prospect of the evening's approaching lesson.

And, while it's fun to share his knowledge with far-flung Southerners, what appeals to Mallon the most is when Inuit take his course.

"Students who give us the most pleasure are the young Inuit who want to relearn their language," he says.