Arnaaraq-Batseba, Village Host

In recent years, Jacob feels this work has become even more important. Modern Itilleq is a settlement of vibrantly coloured houses located on a tiny island just off Greenland’s southwest coast. Here, we met Arnaaraq-Batseba, a central figure in the community. “I am a member of the village council, and I work full-time every day at the clinic. When the community gathers, I also love cooking,” she explains. Her roles are many, but in small communities like Itilleq, it’s quite natural to have many responsibilities. Everyone plays a part in sustaining the settlement.

Arnaaraq speaks of the community as one extended whole. She has deep family ties in the village, yet her sense of responsibility stretches beyond household and family boundaries. When asked about care, she responds simply: “Yes. I always feel that way, that I carry responsibility. Of course, with help. We manage together, through our own efforts and through our work.”

The way Arnaaraq speaks of kaffemik as naapinneq — creating a sense of togetherness through gathering — is key. Though the word kaffemik literally translates as ’via coffee‘, its meaning extends far beyond that. It affirms relationships, weaving kinship outward into the village. “Kaffemik strengthens togetherness, both for families and for the village as a whole,” she says.

On the morning of her 65th birthday, she stands over a large pot of yellow fish soup prepared for kaffemik. “I love preparing Greenlandic foods… dried meat and fish, reindeer, prawns, seal meat…” The dishes reflect the landscape that sustains life in Itilleq. Fishing and hunting remain central, supplemented by foods brought from the mainland.

Throughout the morning, neighbours arrive. Laughter and conversation flow easily around the table. People come and go, staying as long as they wish. It’s an open invite for everyone, usually to “celebrate birthdays, holidays like Christmas, and other important days.”

Occasionally, Itilleq receives visitors, drawn by the unique rhythm of village life. Arnaaraq welcomes them in the same spirit as she does her community. “I really enjoy serving, hosting meals,” she says. Guests are welcomed not as observers but as part of the community for a moment. As she jokes, “Tourists ask a lot of questions, and some don’t even want to leave afterwards. I really enjoy those encounters.”

The key, as she emphasises, is that “kaffemik creates unity”. Every encounter reinforces that togetherness is not performance but practice. Every visit, every conversation, every shared meal deepens the ties between people, and between people and place.

In Arnaaraq’s home, on this tiny island, past and present meet at the table. Kaffemik is more than tradition; it is a practice of continuity, resilience, and shared care. It carries the enduring truth of Kalaallit life: people and land are not separate, but form a single, sustaining whole.

Jacob-Peter’s story exemplifies how modern Greenlandic practices are anchored in centuries of tradition, emerging from ways of learning to adapt and thrive in Arctic environments. Today, kayaking continues because of a deeply rooted sense respect and honour for tradition in Greenland. It’s a living testament to the resilience of culture, the importance of heritage, and the enduring spirit of Greenland