Deep under sheets of  ice and cold earth, Greenland's wealth of natural resources -- from oil to gas,  uranium to iron ore -- remained almost entirely untapped for decades, sealed off  by a mining moratorium. But a global thaw and the opening of shipping routes in  the Northwest Passage are pushing this remote and untrammeled wilderness into  the modern era.       This past October, in a  move to further the island's financial independence from Denmark and in an  effort to revitalize its struggling economy, Greenland's parliament ended its "zero  tolerance" policy on uranium mining. The world quickly took note: Canada,  China, and Australia have expressed interest in what one mining company called  resources of "genuine global significance."       Though serious mining  would not likely begin for quite some time, opinions are divided on whether  development is actually good news for Greenland. Concerned environmentalists  worry about the impact mining will have on this largely untouched part of the  Arctic region. And though new industry could potentially bring much-needed jobs  to Greenland, some citizens (a large majority of whom are Inuit) are fearful of  what big business -- and an influx of foreign workers -- will do to their way of  life.       But fear of the future  doesn't mean that progress is on pause. In late October, the government awarded  a contract to a London mining company to develop an iron ore seam north of the  capital, Nuuk. The mine is expected to provide upward of 3,000 jobs -- and cost  some $2.3 billion -- making this deal, according to Bloomberg News, "the biggest  business venture in the island's history."       In the spring of 2013, photographer Espen Rasmussen, traveled to Greenland to document the fast-encroaching changes to the land and the people who call it home.        Above, low clouds hang over the land inland  from Narsaq.       Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures
Deep under sheets of ice and cold earth, Greenland's wealth of natural resources -- from oil to gas, uranium to iron ore -- remained almost entirely untapped for decades, sealed off by a mining moratorium. But a global thaw and the opening of shipping routes in the Northwest Passage are pushing this remote and untrammeled wilderness into the modern era. This past October, in a move to further the island's financial independence from Denmark and in an effort to revitalize its struggling economy, Greenland's parliament ended its "zero tolerance" policy on uranium mining. The world quickly took note: Canada, China, and Australia have expressed interest in what one mining company called resources of "genuine global significance." Though serious mining would not likely begin for quite some time, opinions are divided on whether development is actually good news for Greenland. Concerned environmentalists worry about the impact mining will have on this largely untouched part of the Arctic region. And though new industry could potentially bring much-needed jobs to Greenland, some citizens (a large majority of whom are Inuit) are fearful of what big business -- and an influx of foreign workers -- will do to their way of life. But fear of the future doesn't mean that progress is on pause. In late October, the government awarded a contract to a London mining company to develop an iron ore seam north of the capital, Nuuk. The mine is expected to provide upward of 3,000 jobs -- and cost some $2.3 billion -- making this deal, according to Bloomberg News, "the biggest business venture in the island's history." In the spring of 2013, photographer Espen Rasmussen, traveled to Greenland to document the fast-encroaching changes to the land and the people who call it home. Above, low clouds hang over the land inland from Narsaq.  Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

Into the Wild

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Deep under sheets of  ice and cold earth, Greenland's wealth of natural resources -- from oil to gas,  uranium to iron ore -- remained almost entirely untapped for decades, sealed off  by a mining moratorium. But a global thaw and the opening of shipping routes in  the Northwest Passage are pushing this remote and untrammeled wilderness into  the modern era.       This past October, in a  move to further the island's financial independence from Denmark and in an  effort to revitalize its struggling economy, Greenland's parliament ended its "zero  tolerance" policy on uranium mining. The world quickly took note: Canada,  China, and Australia have expressed interest in what one mining company called  resources of "genuine global significance."       Though serious mining  would not likely begin for quite some time, opinions are divided on whether  development is actually good news for Greenland. Concerned environmentalists  worry about the impact mining will have on this largely untouched part of the  Arctic region. And though new industry could potentially bring much-needed jobs  to Greenland, some citizens (a large majority of whom are Inuit) are fearful of  what big business -- and an influx of foreign workers -- will do to their way of  life.       But fear of the future  doesn't mean that progress is on pause. In late October, the government awarded  a contract to a London mining company to develop an iron ore seam north of the  capital, Nuuk. The mine is expected to provide upward of 3,000 jobs -- and cost  some $2.3 billion -- making this deal, according to Bloomberg News, "the biggest  business venture in the island's history."       In the spring of 2013, photographer Espen Rasmussen, traveled to Greenland to document the fast-encroaching changes to the land and the people who call it home.        Above, low clouds hang over the land inland  from Narsaq.       Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures
Deep under sheets of ice and cold earth, Greenland's wealth of natural resources -- from oil to gas, uranium to iron ore -- remained almost entirely untapped for decades, sealed off by a mining moratorium. But a global thaw and the opening of shipping routes in the Northwest Passage are pushing this remote and untrammeled wilderness into the modern era. This past October, in a move to further the island's financial independence from Denmark and in an effort to revitalize its struggling economy, Greenland's parliament ended its "zero tolerance" policy on uranium mining. The world quickly took note: Canada, China, and Australia have expressed interest in what one mining company called resources of "genuine global significance." Though serious mining would not likely begin for quite some time, opinions are divided on whether development is actually good news for Greenland. Concerned environmentalists worry about the impact mining will have on this largely untouched part of the Arctic region. And though new industry could potentially bring much-needed jobs to Greenland, some citizens (a large majority of whom are Inuit) are fearful of what big business -- and an influx of foreign workers -- will do to their way of life. But fear of the future doesn't mean that progress is on pause. In late October, the government awarded a contract to a London mining company to develop an iron ore seam north of the capital, Nuuk. The mine is expected to provide upward of 3,000 jobs -- and cost some $2.3 billion -- making this deal, according to Bloomberg News, "the biggest business venture in the island's history." In the spring of 2013, photographer Espen Rasmussen, traveled to Greenland to document the fast-encroaching changes to the land and the people who call it home. Above, low clouds hang over the land inland from Narsaq.  Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

Deep under sheets of ice and cold earth, Greenland's wealth of natural resources -- from oil to gas, uranium to iron ore -- remained almost entirely untapped for decades, sealed off by a mining moratorium. But a global thaw and the opening of shipping routes in the Northwest Passage are pushing this remote and untrammeled wilderness into the modern era.

This past October, in a move to further the island's financial independence from Denmark and in an effort to revitalize its struggling economy, Greenland's parliament ended its "zero tolerance" policy on uranium mining. The world quickly took note: Canada, China, and Australia have expressed interest in what one mining company called resources of "genuine global significance."

Though serious mining would not likely begin for quite some time, opinions are divided on whether development is actually good news for Greenland. Concerned environmentalists worry about the impact mining will have on this largely untouched part of the Arctic region. And though new industry could potentially bring much-needed jobs to Greenland, some citizens (a large majority of whom are Inuit) are fearful of what big business -- and an influx of foreign workers -- will do to their way of life.

But fear of the future doesn't mean that progress is on pause. In late October, the government awarded a contract to a London mining company to develop an iron ore seam north of the capital, Nuuk. The mine is expected to provide upward of 3,000 jobs -- and cost some $2.3 billion -- making this deal, according to Bloomberg News, "the biggest business venture in the island's history."

In the spring of 2013, photographer Espen Rasmussen, traveled to Greenland to document the fast-encroaching changes to the land and the people who call it home.

Above, low clouds hang over the land inland from Narsaq. 

Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

Sheep  farmer Ole Egede (above with his dog) lives with his wife Anna on an isolated farm located an hour's boat ride away from Narsaq. The changing climate has allowed for him to become the first  farmer in Greenland who has been able to grow and sell potatoes commercially.      Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures
Sheep farmer Ole Egede (above with his dog) lives with his wife Anna on an isolated farm located an hour's boat ride away from Narsaq. The changing climate has allowed for him to become the first farmer in Greenland who has been able to grow and sell potatoes commercially. Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

Sheep farmer Ole Egede (above with his dog) lives with his wife Anna on an isolated farm located an hour's boat ride away from Narsaq. The changing climate has allowed for him to become the first farmer in Greenland who has been able to grow and sell potatoes commercially.

Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

Samples collected from  Kvanefjell, a mountain near Narsaq.      Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures
Samples collected from Kvanefjell, a mountain near Narsaq. Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

Samples collected from Kvanefjell, a mountain near Narsaq.

Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

Churchgoers attend a Sunday service in Narsaq's small church.      Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures
Churchgoers attend a Sunday service in Narsaq's small church. Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

Churchgoers attend a Sunday service in Narsaq's small church.

Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

A seal's bright red blood flows into  the sea after it was shot by hunter Kasper Motzfeldt. He sells the skins for $50  U.S. dollars each, but the price has dropped significantly since the EU introduced  a ban on the sale of seal skin.      Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures
A seal's bright red blood flows into the sea after it was shot by hunter Kasper Motzfeldt. He sells the skins for $50 U.S. dollars each, but the price has dropped significantly since the EU introduced a ban on the sale of seal skin. Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

A seal's bright red blood flows into the sea after it was shot by hunter Kasper Motzfeldt. He sells the skins for $50 U.S. dollars each, but the price has dropped significantly since the EU introduced a ban on the sale of seal skin.

Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

Motzfeldt hunts seals from his motor boat.      Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures
Motzfeldt hunts seals from his motor boat. Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

Motzfeldt hunts seals from his motor boat.

Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

A boy  playing with friends in the town's harbor holds up his hand covered in red  seal's blood.      Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures
A boy playing with friends in the town's harbor holds up his hand covered in red seal's blood. Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

A boy playing with friends in the town's harbor holds up his hand covered in red seal's blood.

Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

Kasper  Motzfeldt, hunting seals in his motorboat, pulls a guillemot from the water.      Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures
Kasper Motzfeldt, hunting seals in his motorboat, pulls a guillemot from the water. Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

Kasper Motzfeldt, hunting seals in his motorboat, pulls a guillemot from the water.

Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

A  boy and some dogs explore on the seaside.       Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures
A boy and some dogs explore on the seaside. Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

A boy and some dogs explore on the seaside.

Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

An  aerial view of the mountains and rivers near Narsaq.       Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures
An aerial view of the mountains and rivers near Narsaq. Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

An aerial view of the mountains and rivers near Narsaq.

Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

Two children sit on a bench as the  sun sets over Narsaq.       Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures
Two children sit on a bench as the sun sets over Narsaq. Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

Two children sit on a bench as the sun sets over Narsaq.

Espen Rasmussen/Panos Pictures

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