Winter Solstice

Winter Solstice is upon us. Sarah and I were able to watch the first Lunar Eclipse with a full moon on Winter Solstice in 400 years last night due to the clear, cold skies of Kwethluk. She braved the 18 below windchill, bundled  from head to toe, to go watch it outside, laying in the snow, with Nali nearby. I, however, watched it from the living room window.

When Sarah finally came inside, she said, “My hands are about to freeze off!” to which I replied, “Are my gloves not warm enough?” I was concerned since I just bought those gloves to help me live through winter on the tundra.

“I kept taking them off to text.” Figures!

Solstice, both winter and summer, is a time of celebration in Alaska. The seasons here are so different that marking their beginning and end is of great importance.  Winter Solstice means that the days will now start getting longer, about 5 minutes longer each day until June 21^st, Summer Solstice. As much as I love the long nights of winter, I am definitely looking forward to summer more than ever this year and today marks the downhill slide to summer.  Summer will bring friends and civilization, road travel and walks on the beach, hikes to Grewingk Glacier and specialty coffees at KBay. Summer will bring life.

It is often hard to find “life” here in the winter. The village is a hard place to live. The cold keeps me inside. The darkness makes me want to stay in bed. The frustrating days at school make me want to change careers. Walking outside, bundled in my parka, my peripheral vision is cut off and all I can do is stare at the ground to keep my face from freezing solid. The wind rips through the siding on the house and blows drifts up our front steps. The fog hems us in and prevents the mail from coming.

I have to remind myself to look for the good, the “life,” around me. The winter sunsets are often vibrant and colorful. The K300 sled dog race is in mid-February and will bring mushers from around the world past our village and down the river. We have accomplished much in my classroom this year - reading Shakespeare, writing resumes, printing a school newspaper. The isolation is bringing Sarah and me closer together every day. The snow makes everything fresh and new. The paycheck is sending me and my girls to Hawaii for the holidays.

Tomorrow is the last day of the semester. We are halfway done here. Even though it often feels like a prison term, I have to remind myself that it was self-inflicted. I have learned things about myself here that I would never have know had I not had this experience. Self-reflection is necessary. Introspection is imminent here. It cannot be avoided.

The lack of sunlight in Alaska has never bothered me before. But, before, I’ve always had the mountains to look at during the few hours of daylight. I miss the mountains. I miss them terribly. Lack of Vitamin D that the daylight brings is definitely affecting me physically this year. No doubt, it was a contributing factor to my two bouts with pneumonia. Now, I’ve broken out with a rash on my neck and face. It’s an allergic reaction of sorts. It could be due to the nail polish that I put on last week, for the first time in years. Or, it could just be stress, like everything else. I’m hoping that a few weeks in Hawaii will cure what ails me, that I can return to this desolate place rejuvenated, revived, and ready to finish out the school year with a bang.

Another Village First

When I came home from school on Wednesday, the toilet in our house wouldn’t flush. I made the usual calls to Ira, the head maintenance man, and Adam, the assistant maintenance man, only to leave messages on their voicemails. I tested the faucets to make sure the pipes hadn’t frozen – the high that day was 10 below zero with windchills of 30 below zero. Then, the toilet just magically started working again so I called back and left a voicemail for Ira but when I called Adam’s house, a man answered and took a message to pass along to Adam. The man on the other end of the phone spoke broken English and I had a feeling that he didn’t understand me when I told him that the toilet was now working and Adam didn’t need to come by. This was at about 6pm.

At 10:30pm, Sarah and I were in pajamas, watching a Weeds DVD when it sounded like a snowmachine pulled up outside. We looked at the clock and looked at eachother and Sarah suggested that I go look out the window to see what was going on. Before I could get out of my recliner, I heard the front door open and then Adam was standing in the middle of our living room, seal skin hat tied snug under his chin, wearing a black parka and snowpants. The door had been locked but Adam has a key since he’s a maintenance man. He had just let himself in and was in our house before we even knew what happened.

“It’s working now. Uh… the toilet’s working now. I left a message at your house. I’m sorry you didn’t get it, but everything’s fine now, “ I spilled out, flustered, as I pulled the blanket up around my neck in an attempt at modesty.

“I’ll just go check anyway,” he answered as he walked through the house with his snowboots on. He hurried past the bathroom to the utility room in the back of the house. We figured that he must be checking the water line to the bathroom. After a quick minute, he came tromping back through the house (remember that Sarah and I are in our pajamas and it is 10:30 at night) past the bathroom again. He stopped at the front door and leaned down to put his hand in front of the baseboard heater.

“There’s plenty of Glycol. Seems to be working now.” He smiled through the darkness of the fur hat surrounding his dark-skinned face. He has a kind face and I teach his teenage son and daughter in class every day.

“There’s nothing wrong with the heater. It was the toilet,” I told him. His confused look caused me to repeat what I’d said, more slowly this time (Adam is a native Yupik speaker and his English is sketchy).

“It – was – the – toilet – that – wasn’t – working.” I said slowly. “But – it’s – fine – now.” Another confused look from Adam. “It’s – all – good.” I gave him a dramatic double thumbs up to drive home the point I was trying to make.

He nodded, “Okay.” And, he was gone – back out the door. In a few seconds, we heard the snowmachine fire up and drive away.

Sarah and I, still sitting in the living room under blankets, looked at each other, dumbfounded. Did that really just happen? Did someone really just unlock our front door and walk into our house uninvited on a Wednesday night at 10:30?

Personal space and privacy have no place in a village. The Yupik are used to taking care of one another, spending time in each other’s houses, raising one another’s children. I’m sure they find it laughable that I even use the deadbolt on my front door.

Thankful Round-Out

I needed to publish the last of my 30 Thankfuls for November, so here they are...

#25 Thankful for My Students

Laughter. Questions. Smiles. Raised eyebrows. Completed assignments. These are the reasons that I am thankful for my students. I was even supposed to go to Bethel again next week and miss class Thursday and Friday to grade district-wide Writing Assessments, but I elected to stay here instead and teach my classes.

#26 Thankful for Weekends

They give me something to look forward to, a chance to cocoon myself or a chance to wander – whatever feels right. I usually bake a loaf of bread either on Saturday or Sunday morning and enjoy several cups of coffee, splurging with a little chocolate syrup in each cup… only on weekends. I can plan a meal that takes all day to cook, like a pot of beans or a roasted turkey. Hours are spent catching up on movies, cross-stitch, and reading. If the weather is nice, the weekend is the only time that affords me a daylight walk with Nali. Yes, weekends are where it’s at!

#27 Thankful for My Education

Education truly does give a person opportunities. I’m glad to have my Masters degree and am looking forward to starting my PhD. I truly love learning and hope I never lose that.

#28 Thankful for the Darkness

Winter is my favorite time of year, always has been. Living this far north just magnifies my love of this special season. Winter is the longest season of the year here, lasting from October until sometime in April (the calendar dates of December 21-March 21 mean nothing this far north). One of the best parts of winter is the darkness. We lose about 5 minutes of light each day right now and will be down to about 5 hours of daylight by December 21, the darkest day of the year. Even the daylight at that time of the year isn't truly daylight, it's just a bright twilight, depending on the cloud cover. The sun just barely comes up over the horizon, skirts along the edge of the earth, and then dips back down below the sea. The long days of summer call for people to be energetic, constantly moving, getting as much done in a day as possible. Whereas the winter is lazy. The fishing and hunting has been done and the meat is tucked away with the berries in the freezer. Afternoon naps are delicious. Sleeping in on a Saturday morning just feels right when the sun doesn't come up until 11am. There's no pressure to get out and exercize because... well... it's dark.

#29 Thankful for Homer

As much as I miss Homer, it is comforting to know that the quaint little fishing village by the sea is patiently awaiting my return. I just finished reading Tide, Feather, Snow by Miranda Weiss of Homer and it's a wonderful novel about the magic of everyday life in a town at the end of the road on the edge of the sea surrounded by majestic snow-capped mountains. It made me terrible Homer-sick, but thankful at the same time.

#30 Thankful for Winter Break

It begins next week, Wednesday at 4pm to be exact. Sarah and I will be on a 5pm charter flight with six other teachers headed out of the village. Our winter break is three weeks long. I don't think I've ever looked so forward to something in all of my life. I've planned it for months, counted down the days for weeks, and now I'm still in the village in body only. My mind/heart has already left for the white sand beaches of Hawaii. This has been a rough five months. Wow has it really been that long? We have given up so much to be here. Yet, I think one day we'll look back at all we gained. Winter break this year seems paradoxical. Usually, one looks forward to a break from the average everyday life - a break from TV, a break from the hustle and bustle, a break from telephones and traffic and advertisements. However, a break for us is the chance to have all of those things for a change.

A couple of weeks ago, we had an "artist in residence" here in Kwethluk. Stephen Blanchett, member of Alaskan musical group, Pamyua ("again"), came to our school to teach Yupik dance. Pamyua is definitely worth looking up on Youtube if you're interested in hearing what "tribal funk" is all about. Stephen described himself as a You-frickin-American (Yufrican American) because he is half Yupik American and half African American. He certainly got the attention of my Theatre Arts students as he taught them motions to a traditional Yupik tale, The Raven. Here is the story along with some pics of my students acting it out...

Long ago, Squirrel was picking berries. On the way home, he saw Raven blocking his way in. To get home, Squirrel had to sing a song. The first time he sang. Raven didn't like it. The second time he danced. He tried to run in, but was too slow. The third time he ran through Raven’s legs, grabbing his bucket, and closed the door. Raven flew up to the top of Squirrel's house and looked through a hole. Squirrel was lying on the floor. He was so fat the fat was dripping off him. Raven sang, wanting to eat him.


Squirrel sang back, “Come on in.”

The hole was too small. Raven could only get his head through. Raven tried again and couldn’t make it. He flew off.

Raven saw a big hill where one side was smooth and the other side was rough. He wanted to go sliding down the hill. As he slid, he sang a song. At the bottom, his leg was broken. He put a splint on his broken leg. He slid down again, singing a song. This time, he broke his other leg. He slid down a third time singing a song. This time, he broke one of his wings. He slid down a fourth time, singing a song, and this time he broke his other wing. With two broken legs and two broken wings, all in splints, he flopped back up to the top. He slid down the fifth time, singing a song. At the bottom, Raven broke his neck... and died.

The end.

Counting Down the Sleeps

“How was your sleep?” is what I get asked most mornings by students. Translated, “How was your night?” So, using that logic, I’ve got 10 sleeps until we leave for Winter Break!

Our frosty doorknob, from inside the house!

It’s been cold here, very cold. The high doesn’t even hit zero during the day and the windchill (20-30mph winds) keep the temp close to 30 below. The inside of the door to the outside has frost on it. Thank goodness for the Mud Room, which has now become the Ice Room. The river is frozen solid now and has become a superhighway for snowmachines and automobiles (the 4WD kind). No speed limit, no road signs, no ditches, no holds barred.

A couple of little boys knocked on my door yesterday carrying what appeared to be a dead grouse (or maybe ptarmigan). Still sickly, I just called through the door, “No visitors,” and watched them walk to the principal’s house next door and knock (no one was home there). I’m not sure what they wanted. Perhaps they were bringing me a present, but I was in no mood to clean a grouse.

The wind howled last night, shaking the house and rattling the siding. It was from the north and it was blowing hard, smoothing over prints in the snow and seeping through the seams in the house. The floor gets cold on nights like that. But, our space heater and slippers help to take off the edge of the chill. Our house is insulated well and for that, I am thankful.

Denali’s been doing great outside during the day, although she has yet to go into her doghouse. I was worried about her being out in that cold, but she seems to be made for it. She gets a little frosty around the neck but seems happy and healthy.


Ten sleeps from now, Sarah and I will be bedding down in Bethel for the night. Eleven sleeps from now, I’ll be having a cocktail on the lanai of our condo in Honolulu – 72 degrees, watching the sun set without even a jacket on. I wish I could find that magic wand that I misplaced so that I could be sure to set a spell and slow down time while we are in Hawaii…

Pneumonia, Round 2

Pneumonia. This is the second time I’ve been down with it in the past 45 days. It’s worse this time, much worse. I took all the precautions – got the 7-year pneumonia shot last year (that covers 25% of the strains out there – apparently the other 75% are in Kwethluk), take a daily vitamin (when I remember), drink plenty of orange juice, take Echinacea and vitamin C supplements, get plenty of rest, and I even started exercising (remember Jillian?). However, there is one little bugger that I can’t seem to tame… stress. Beyond that, I’m not sure what else I can do. Anyway, here’s the story that led me to today…

Last Friday, I came home from school feeling like I was getting a cold – stuffy nose, drainage in the throat, the usual. I started dosing up on herbal tea and vitamin C. It just got worse. By Saturday night, I had a pretty bad cough and by Sunday, I knew it was at least Bronchitis – fever coming in around 99. I made an appointment at the clinic for 9am, found someone to cover my class, bundled up, and made the half-mile walk there in 20 below windchill temps.

My fever was 100. After 30 minutes of her asking me questions, looking up information in a medical textbook, and writing down details on a sheet that she would soon fax to a doctor in Bethel, the exam was over. She told me that she heard crackling in my lungs and was sure it was pneumonia. I was sent back to school and told that she would call me later that afternoon with doctor recommendations.

At 3pm, I still had not heard from the clinic, so I called. My aide told me that the Bethel doctor said that my fever needed to be 102 before they’d prescribe antibiotics. That’s a new one! So, I called the Bethel doctor and she told me that without a chest x-ray (which can only be done if I spend an entire day flying back and forth to Bethel to have it done in the hospital there), my temperature has to be 102 for them to diagnose pneumonia. Where do they make up these rules?

By Tuesday morning, I was beginning to see stars from being lightheaded. In the classroom, I was useless as I only had a whisper of a voice. The soonest the clinic could see me was 2pm. I hauled myself there (remember that it’s a mile roundtrip) in the subzero temps, colder than Monday. They examined me (temp at 102), sent off the paperwork to Bethel, and I was given antibiotics. I barely remember my walk home. I know I was weaving as I walked down the road just concentrating on breathing, which was difficult, and keeping my eyes focused enough to put one foot in front of the other. Oh yeah, on my way out of the clinic, they demanded that I make a follow-up appointment for Wednesday (walk back there again? NOT!) which I did and promptly called to cancel Wednesday morning.

I spent the next several days in and out of bed, never leaving the house, doped up on as much medication as I could find. Thursday morning, I woke up with 9 cold sores lining my top lip and by Thursday night, I also had sores inside my nose. Miserable. Frustrated. Now, angry.

Now, it’s Friday. I’ve still got a bad cough and a sore chest, but I’m getting better, slowly. Now, my bigger concern is that I have a compromised immune system and I’m going back to the same conditions on Monday that got me sick twice so far. If I can just make it 12 more days, I’ll be on a tropical beach…

Smile like there's nothing wrong...

I just have to share the poem below that one of my students wrote and published on her blog. It speaks volumes. Her blog is entitled "Smile like there's nothing wrong."

I am both american and yupik because....
i am an american because.
I speak English, I had learned it from my parents.
I live in the United State and the state Is Alaska
Going on the computer for Facebook, Myspace and Hoverspot
I go to the store, to get junk food, because I got addicted to it
Going walking around Kwethluk, with my friends. At the night time.
Staying up late and waking up late.
Eating fast food when I don’t know what to eat.
Going to travel with airplane to other villages.
Trying to be really perfect act like were all that.

I am an yupik because
Eating Eskimo food like meat, akutaq, and other good food.
Manaqing at the river for good fish.
Yuraqing for the cultures of our traditions
Berry picking, for my family so that we could put berries away for Christmas
Packing water from the river so that we could have water in our homes.
Going haunting and getting real food for the family to have for the winter
My grandmother is from the Kuskokwim, and my other grandmother is from the Yukon
Getting wood from the fores, so that we could have for the winter and steaming
Finishing school and graduating to get a good education.
Steaming and feeling really clean.

#24 Thankful for My Independence

The chatter in class today was all about the impending Thanksgiving Break. Augusta asked me if I was going anywhere for Thanksgiving.

“No, I’m staying right here in Kwethluk and relaxing.”

“Where are you going for Christmas?” she asked, curious.

“Hawaii.” Was my simple, one-word reply.

“To get a husband?” she asked, quite serious. This question was unexpected and threw me off of my usual rhythm for a split second.

“No. To get a tan.” Was my final response, much to the delight of the rest of the class.

You see, marriage here is very much a way of life. It’s survival. Women who aren’t married don’t eat, at least not much. The men bring home the bacon, so to speak… actually it’s caribou, moose, and a variety of fish along with an occasional porcupine, beaver, or bird of sorts. Women marry early and stay married. If they divorce or become widowed, they remarry quickly (my being divorced after 12 years is very much an anomaly here).

Domestic abuse is an everyday occurrence. I’m sure that it is partly because the woman being abused has nowhere to go. She must stay to survive. That is not to say that there are not happily married folks in the village because there absolutely are.

So, when my students find out that I have been divorced for such a long time, their mouths literally drop open in disbelief.

This afternoon, my students wanted to ask me about my hair, since I had just dyed the gray away (also an uncommon thing in the village). Kris, student, asked me, “Did you do it so that you can find a husband?” Again, utter shock on my part.

“No…,” I slowly answered, “I’ve been single for 12 years and I’m very content.”

“Was it because of alcohol? The divorce?” Kris further probed. That one floors me, too.

“On his part or mine?” I jokingly responded. The kids all laughed. Alcohol is the most common reason for divorce here. It’s also the most common reason for crime, teen pregnancy, and death.

So, yes, I’m thankful for my independence, for today at least…

#23 Thankful for This Experience

It is only befitting that at some point, I admit my thankfulness for this experience of living and teaching in the bush on Alaska’s tundra. This experience has given me  stories for my grandchildren that they will absolutely never believe, material for a book that needs to be written, insight into what’s really important to me, an appreciation for being appreciated, time to read books and learn to sew and bake bread, enough cash to take my daughters to Hawaii for Christmas, and a thankful heart for all the blessings in my life, never again to be taken for granted.

#22 Thankful for The Calendar

I’ve never been more thankful for a calendar than I am this school year. It is my window into the future. It gives me hope for the future and strengthens my confidence that I can make it through this day and mark it off. At this very moment, the calendar tells me that I have the next four days to myself. The only thing that I am scheduled to do is go to a teacher potluck tomorrow at 2pm. Otherwise, the days are all mine. The calendar also tells me that I have only 28 more days until I’ll leave for Hawaii. The calendar reminds me that on November 30^th, I’ll have survived four months here and will have only five more to go (accounting for the trip to Hawaii). It measures my progress and is a constant reminder of all that is in front of me. I am thankful for the calendar.

#21 Thankful for Coffee and Tea

I have to put these two drinks in the same category because they are both warm and comforting in an equal way, at least in my book. I love to drink something warm in the morning, every morning. There’s just something about holding a warm cup and the feeling of that warm liquid soothing my body from the inside out as well as the inside in as I start my day. Even though I’m strictly a decaf drinker, something is just off about my day if I don’t start it with a cup of K-Bay Coffee (hot tea will work in a pinch).

I also love to have a cup of tea in the evening – Chamomile Lavender is my favorite. It is consoling after a long day, helps me relax, soothes my throat from all of the teacher-talk that I put it through every day, and just quiets me down for bed.

*** I just realized that I was thankful for coffee twice this month. Oh well! ***

#16, 17, 18, 19, 20 Thankful for Discount Stores, Hotels, Restaurants, Alcohol, and Hockey

These are the things which have consumed my life for the past three days. It has been a wonderful vacation in Anchorage… feels like a working vacation, but vacation nonetheless. Hold on, let me refill my Dixie-cup-sized paper-hotel-cup with a cocktail…

Okay, so we arrived in Anchorage at 10am on Thursday, grabbed the keys to the rental car, loaded our 2 Rubbermaid tubs and empty cooler (aka luggage) into a cherry-red Toyota Tercel and headed straight to Sushi-Ya for lunch, after searching for the DMV for an hour to collect a title history on my car (another blog waiting to happen). Lunch consisted of an incredibly fresh variety of salad, miso soup, rice noodles, sesame chicken, more salad, sushi rice, those little fried Chinese dumpling things, tempura shrimp and vegetables, and ahi tuna sushi. … ahhhh… heaven. (wait! I just realized that we never got our fortune cookie!)

Then, we spent the afternoon at the Dimond Mall, Sarah shopping her heart out and me carrying the bags. LOL. We made a quick run through Wal-Mart for hair dye and make-up… lots of make-up… before we headed to the hotel to check in and color our hair side by side in the bathroom – a true mother/daughter moment. We met my friend Ann (with our new hair) for 6 o’clock reservations at Orso’s – an amazing Italian restaurant in downtown Anchorage. Fried Calamari, Caprese Salad (fresh, homemade mozzarella and vine ripened tomatoes), Seafood Pasta (Alaskan Halibut, Salmon, King Crab, and shellfish) proved to confirm Orso’s incredible reputation for great food in a terrific, calming atmosphere.

After dinner, Sarah’s friend, Stephanie, and her mom, Lori, met us back at the hotel. They had driven up from Homer just for the night to spend time with us. Stephanie and Sarah went to the midnight showing of Harry Potter at the new IMAX Theatre while Lori and I enjoyed cocktails, laughter, and shared stories of our crazy lives. The girls took a cab home, but Lori and I were in bed long before they arrived. LOL.

Friday, Sarah and I were up in time to enjoy a delicious lunch of Jambalaya Pasta (for her) and Strip Steak over Blue Cheese Mashed Potatoes (for me) at the Glacier Brewhouse before heading to meet my attorney (see above mentioned “car” blog waiting to happen) at 1pm. We then headed out shopping once again.

We walked into Sullivan Arena just as the National Anthem was being sung. The UAA Seawolves Hockey team beat the St. Cloud Huskies 3-2 in sudden death overtime. It was a great game and we ate dinner (chicken tenders and fries) in our seats and also enjoyed flavored coffee and caramel apple cider. Leaving with UAA Seawolves hoodies in tow, it was a good night.

Saturday morning, we ate a leisurely breakfast in the hotel before heading out for day three of shopping – this time to Costco, where we filled two carts, packed the goods into tubs and mailed them back to Kwethluk from a nearby Post Office. Then, we headed to Wal-Mart, filled another cart and left it in the Bush Delivery department for them to pack up and mail to us. After that, we headed to the 5^th Avenue Mall where Homer kids were killing time while in Anchorage for the All-State Band and Choir competitions. I got to spend a quick hour chatting with my dear friend, Amy (band director), before they left to go back to Homer. After leaving the mall, Sarah and I went to Target where I actually found a couple of pairs of jeans long enough to fit my tall frame. We were back at the hotel, exhausted and hungry, by 8 o’clock so we just ordered dinner to be delivered – gyros and Caesar salad – what a perfect way to end a busy, shopping weekend.

Sunday morning found us packing up and heading to the airport. It was a busy week, but a so-needed respite from village life. We went home rejuvenated, anti-frumped… hoping that attitude will take us to Christmas.

#15 - Thankful for Books

Books are my escape. Patrick Taylor takes me to rural Ireland in the 1960’s. The brogue in his books (An Irish Country Doctor, An Irish Country Village, and An Irish Country Christmas) is so strong that I can hear it in my head. It is a world away from my little village on the Tundra and I can bring it right into my living room with the turn of a page.

Right now, I’m reading Ballad of the Northland by Jason Barron. I think it’s a self-published book. I know it just came out this fall and I ordered it straight from the author in Montana. It’s a beautifully heart-wrenching story of a boy growing up in bush Alaska, raised on the brink of starvation. An orphan living with relatives, his only form of transportation is dogsled. It sucks me in with its stunning prose and then slaps me with its horrific reality. It’s just the kind of book that I hope to write one day.

I’m not sure what book will be next, but I know that as we head in to Anchorage tomorrow, Sarah and I are looking forward to spending time in several different bookstores, stocking up for the winter.

Getting Caught up on My Thankful List

#10 – Thankful for Candles
My house is very well insulated and when it’s zero degrees outside, we can’t really open the windows to air the house out. Sometimes, the lingering scent of dinner from the night before makes me eager to light a candle. Soon, my house smells like a bakery or a spice shop and all is well with the world again.

#11 – Thankful for Coffee
I love coffee, even though all I drink is decaf. I love the smell of it, the warmth of it, the creamy sweetness of it – you see, I usually have a little coffee with my milk and sugar. There’s just something comforting about holding a warm mug of coffee and slowly sipping it away.

#12 – Thankful for Vicky
I have had very few good friends in my life and Vicky ranks right up there. We met through myspace – weird, I know – because we were both fans of the boys on the Deadliest Catch and she just added me as a friend one day. We started chatting and she has come to visit me twice. We have an incredibly close friendship, like sisters. She is my number one go-to person when I really need a care package NOW! She sends medicine to me, ingredients to make bread, even her own DVDs so that I have something to watch. I love Vicky and don’t know how I would have survived the past couple of years without her.

#13 – Thankful for Reggie
Our little kitty drives me crazy. He chews up electrical chords, drags socks all over the house, teases my dog incessantly, and leaves his cat hair everywhere. But, he brings us so much joy and laughter. It’s comforting just to pick him up and rub his thick, soft fur. He is incredibly good natured, letting the dog use him for a chew toy and sharing a water bowl with her. It’s loads of fun to watch him play with a ball or a toy mouse or even the bubbles from the kitchen sink.

#14 – Thankful for Chocolate Chips
They have got to be one of the most versatile foods in the world. I put them in cookies, dessert bars, and muffins. Heck, I even use them to make Chocolate Croissants. They add a little “hmmm” to a pot of chili and even serve as a sweet snack in a pinch, all by themselves.

Thank you for The Vampire Diaries

I think Sarah and I watched eight episodes yesterday. We borrowed the first season on DVD from a fellow teacher and it sucked us in immediately. Since we have no TV channels, finding a series that we love on DVD is a goldmine. We will finish Season One tonight and then start catching up on Season Two on the internet.

It provides an escape like none other. Yes, I’m thankful for The Vampire Diaries. Meanwhile, I patiently await the entire series of The Love Boat and Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman, that are being shipped to me at this very minute. We watch movies like nobody’s business. I guess I’m really just thankful for the whole DVD idea and putting TV shows on DVD. It makes us feel a little closer to normal.

Running Water

November 7, 2010 - 30 days of Thanks entry...


As much as I hear myself complain about the day to day insanity here, it does make me thankful for the little things. For example, I really miss having a dishwasher and never want to live without one again. But, I am SO grateful to have running water. A lot of the homes in the village do not have running water. Those people have to come to the school or go to friends’ houses to take a shower – most just use the steam house as a bath. I could never get used to that – just sweat, soap up, wipe it off, and call it good. Folks who raise, and race, dogs here have to pack water up from the river for their dogs every day. Many of the local Yupik teachers (all of the white teachers live in teacher housing with complete facilities) even bring their laundry to the school to do it while they are at work or on the weekends. If they don’t have running water, do they have an outhouse?... you might be wondering. Sorry folks, no outhouses on the tundra – permafrost keeps one from being able to dig a hole deep enough and those subzero temps make one completely impractical October through April. Honeybuckets are plentiful out here. It’s basically just a 10 gallon bucket lined with a plastic bag (maybe) and with a toilet seat rigged on top (if you have a deluxe model). Those honeybuckets are dumped into a receptacle somewhere. I’m not sure where in Kwethluk. I’m thankful that I have a good, old fashioned, flush toilet. I’m pretty sure Honeybucket is an oxymoron…

Yes, I’m thankful for running water, clean running water even. I have a washer and dryer in the house and a full bathroom. Even if the shower is way too hot and I have to brush my teeth with warm water every day, at least I have access to that water with the turn of a faucet.

I'm thankful for snow...

November 6, 2010 – Snow

I’m thankful for snow. Winter is my favorite season. The snow makes everything look fresh and new and cozy. It covers up the trash on the ground in my village. It covers up Nali’s anaq (Yupik for poop) which is nice for now, because I don’t have to clean it up, but it will be a real mess next spring when the snow melts. Sorry, I digress.

I love to ski. I love to watch Nali bound through the snow – winter is also her favorite season (and Sarah’s). I love to ride snowmobiles (called snowmachines and snogos in Alaska, depending on what region you are in). Snow makes me smile.

As a side note, since I started writing this, the fog has rolled in and the snow has begun falling in earnest. I can see the flag flying hard in the wind as I sit in my workshop in Bethel (it’s lunchtime) and pray for the weather to clear so that we can get home tonight. At this very moment, snow is not my best friend. The weather folks call it "freezing fog." Visibility is currently at 1/2 mile. It has to be 2 miles for us to go home…

30 Days of Thanks

This is a great idea that I've seen in other blogs, so I had to do a little catching up first, but from here on, you should see a blog entry of Thanks every day for the rest of November. What a terrific way to stay grounded and grateful!

November 1 – My family.

I almost cheated here and thought about writing about each family member on a different day, but then decided to go ahead and challenge myself. After all, that’s what the 30 days of thanks is for, right? However, I will talk about each that I am thankful for, individually.

I am thankful for my daughters (I dare not list one before the other). They are the light of my life and the reason I get out of bed each morning. I am so proud of them and the young women they are becoming. I am so amazed at their sense of humor, intelligence, insight, and capacity for love. They have repeatedly forgiven me for my mistakes and loved me for who I am.

I am thankful for my dad. His patience and unwavering love have pulled me through many a dark time in my life. He believes in me and is proud of me. Our daily phone calls are a habit that I never want to break. Four thousand miles melt away every day as we talk about the weather, what we’re making for dinner, how crazy our family is, and how terrific his granddaughters are. My dad is the laughter in my life; he makes me smile every day.

Sometimes I still find it hard to believe that I really have a sister. Holly and I met each other for the first time 14 years ago. Wow, has it really been that long? She is such an incredibly “good” person. There’s just not a better word for it. She’s just good. She’s empathetic in a way that I’ve never known another human being to be. She is the perfect older sister – calm, grounded, married (LOL). When things seem to spiral out of control in my life, she brings me back in line, gently, with laughter and love. She is my rock. Her husband, sons, and daughter are a colorful extension of her and I’m thankful for them, as well.

I have other relatives, but no one else who feels like “family.” My family is small. My family is spread out, geographically (daughter in Wisconsin, dad in South Carolina, sister in Washington). Most of all, my family is MY family and I’m so thankful for them all! My family is my light, my laughter, and my rock.

November 2 – My Dog

When I was a kid, we always had pets, but they were pets that my parents brought home and they were just playmates for me. I never got terribly attached… and we never had them for long. For example, my dad brought home a Golden Lab when I was young (5ish). His brother’s dog had pups and Libby was one of them. The problem was that we lived in a subdivision in a suburb of St. Louis – no room for a dog of that size to run. Once she grew up (about a year old), dad gave her away to the local Duck’s Unlimited club.  Then, my parents gave me a Miniature Schnauzer, Gretel, for Christmas when I was 7, but my mother gave her away when we moved to Wisconsin (I was 9). After we moved to Wisconsin, my stepdad (who was a Deputy Sheriff) brought home a German Shepherd that he trained as a police dog. Birch was a terrific family dog, but was trained to attack visitors (including my best friend, Debbie – that’s another story).  When Rich, stepdad, died of cancer 2 years after getting the dog, the dog went to another police officer. So, you get the picture – I never really made a connection with any pets we had when I was growing up.

As an adult, I’ve always had wanderlust and liked to get up and go at a moment’s notice. Because of this, I felt that my home wouldn’t be conducive to raising a dog. So, I  never had a dog as an adult… until Nali.

When we moved to Homer, I felt like I was finally “home” and I felt settled enough to finally commit to being a dog owner. I wanted an Alaskan dog, so I knew it had to be at least part Husky, and had to be a large dog. That, and I knew that I didn’t want a Lab – too hyper. January 4, 2009, we went to the Homer shelter, but they only had a couple of Husky Lab pups. No good. I called the Kenai Shelter (90 miles away) and they had a litter of three Husky Shepherd pups. Perfect, I though! I knew Shepherds were smart and easily trained. I filled the car with gas and we headed to Kenai. Of the three little puppies, there were two girls and one boy. I told Sarah to pick a girl (this was supposed to be her dog – she’s the one who really talked me into the whole “getting a dog” scenario in the first place).  The girls looked very similar except that one had blue eyes and one had brown eyes. The 8-week-old blue-eyed baby girl came home with us that day. She had a swollen belly filled with worms and shivered out of fear as much as the January cold, but those blue eyes…

That was it. She had my heart. After a round of worm medicine, plenty of Puppy Chow, and even more love, she became my third child. She was a wild hellion until she was about 6 months old, but after that she settled down, becoming the well-trained, doting dog that I’d always dreamed of. I was 41 years old and a first time dog owner.

Now, two years later, I can’t imagine my life without her. She follows me everywhere, circles me when strangers get close, and sleeps on her pillow in my room every night, right by the door. She is my best friend, my fiercest protector, and my third daughter (that palm reader in New Orleans was right!). I am thankful for my Nali.

November 3, 2010 – Ann Shuda

Even though the date on this is November 3^rd, I’m still catching up on my 30 days of Thanks and I’m writing this on November 5^th.  Last night and tonight, I had dinner with Ann. She is one of the few people in this world who really understands what I’m going through right now (living and teaching in a Yupik village). I’m so thankful to have her in Bethel. Her place is “safe” to me. It’s like when I was a kid playing tag and there was always a tree that we called “safe.” If you were touching the tree, nobody could tag you. I can feel the craziness of the world melt away as we talk about our day, last week, or our future. It’s a bubble of normalcy that I crave the moment I’m back in Kwethluk. I am thankful for Ann.

November 4, 2010 – Television

Right now, I’m sitting in my room at the Long House Hotel in Bethel, here for another district-sponsored workshop. I have the TV on and am watching “Outrageous Food” on FoodTV. I miss having television channels like nobody’s business! To be able to watch the news is such a luxury. I didn’t realize that there had been an earthquake in Indonesia, had forgotten that it was hurricane season, and hadn’t thought about the President in months. I feel like I live under a rock. There was a time when I thought I’d like to live without television, live a simpler life, get back to nature, blah blah blah. I was wrong. There is nothing noble and fulfilling about living in a void with no television to keep me informed and entertained. I remember the good ole days when I used to watch Rachel Ray create some easy, delicious dish and immediately go online to find the recipe. The next day, I was at the grocery store picking up necessary ingredients for the delectable creation that I would serve for dinner that night. No more (I already know what I’m going to be thankful for tomorrow – LOL). TV, I will never take you for granted again or wish you away or say that you are unworthy. I am thankful for television, what little I get when I’m out of the village!

November 5, 2010 – Grocery Stores

Strange, right? It’s not so strange when you live in a Yupik village in the middle of the Alaskan Tundra. Sure, Kwethluk has the Native Store, an overpriced, understocked, dirty version of a Kwik Trip. Sorry folks, but that just doesn’t count! Someone familiar with Kwethluk might argue that we also have the Sports Store (I’m not sure why it’s called that) but I don’t think a Kwik Trip with a “last chance” hardware/sporting goods store attached counts either.

I’m talking about Fred Meyer, Safeway, Brookshires (for you southerners), and Marketplace IGA (for my fellow Haywardites). Large, franchised, mopped-daily grocery stores with lighted freezer cases, fresh produce, and Hoisin Sauce.

Bethel has the AC Store and Swanson’s, which will do in a pinch. However, paying nine dollars for a gallon of milk or a container of ice cream (your average 1.75 quart container) makes it a stretch to think you're really at a normal grocery store. However, they do carry cat food, which I have to pick up tomorrow before I head back to Kwethluk, where there is no cat litter or cat food. I’m not joking, here. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again - This place is too crazy to exaggerate!

So, you may be wondering, “How do you eat?” Well, I shipped A LOT of nonperishable food up here when we first moved in July. Since then, I have placed a bush order through Fred Meyer, which was mostly damaged, dented, and broken when it arrived covered in Original Ragu. I also had a meat order shipped in from Mike’s Quality Meats in Eagle River, Alaska. That was enough to last us until sometime next spring and was delivered frozen (that's a good thing) via the local puddle jumper from Bethel. I also subscribe to bi-weekly deliveries of fresh produce from Full Circle Farms in Washington state. It’s not cheap, but it’s fresh, organic and impossible to get in Kwethluk. However, even with these deliveries, we are starting to run low and I’ve already started a list for our trip to the city.

Sarah and I are headed to Anchorage in less than two weeks. We are terribly excited to have the chance to go grocery shopping at Cosco and Safeway and wherever else we can find. Thank goodness Alaska Air lets us check three bags per person when flying in the state – we’ll be going back to Kwethluk with six checked bags, two of which will be coolers filled with fresh and frozen food, and two of which will be large Rubbermaid tubs filled with nonperishables. I am thankful for grocery stores!

Hot Flash, Hot Tamale, Hot Blooded, Hot as Hell

I just stepped out of a scalding hot shower – I’m surprised I have any skin left! Seriously… apparently our water pipes have heating coils that run alongside them so that they won’t freeze in the winter. Ira, maintenance-man extraordinaire, informed me of this little detail the other day when I let him know that we didn’t have any cold water. Since the weather has cooled off – highs in the 20s- the heating coils have been turned on. We seriously do not have cold water in the house. We brush our teeth with warm water. The shower is the worst part, though.

You see, we have one of those shower faucets that’s all one piece. You turn it to the left to turn it on and the further left it goes, the hotter it gets. The only problem with that is that when there is no cold water that mixes in with the hot water, the output is nothing short of scalding. So, I compensate for this by turning the water handle just far enough to the right to ease the water pressure to a dribble without it shutting off the shower nozzle completely. That way, the blisteringly hot water is just barely tinkling on me instead of showering me to death. However, this does make rinsing soap and shampoo off quite a chore.

These heating coils keeping our pipes warm apparently don’t have a temperature gauge, only an on and off switch. So, it appears that they will now be “on” until sometime next spring… probably about the time school lets out for summer.

The good news is that my skin is now a shade of pink that it never was before. I suppose that is an improvement over the snow white, because I am constantly covered up from head to toe in an effort to keep Mr. Frostbite at bay. Maybe if I unscrew one more light bulb in my bathroom, my skin will almost have a tan hue to it when looking in the tiny bathroom mirror (the only mirror in the house). You see, there is always a silver lining…

The Pain of Change

“It’s got to hurt for change to take place.” … Jillian Michaels

I received Jillian Michael’s 30 Day Shred exercise DVD in the mail yesterday. I excitedly changed into workout clothes – I use that term loosely (shorts, t-shirt, and wool socks are my workout clothes), put the DVD in the player, laid down a blanket for a mat and grabbed a couple of jars of spaghetti sauce to use as weights. I was ready! That was the longest 20 minutes of my life. It should be a clue when the coach uses jumping jacks as a warm-up! I was dying as I tried desperately to keep up with the lunges and arm weights at the same time. The video goes through three circuits of cardio, weights, and ab exercises – three circuits in 20 minutes! After the second circuit, I couldn’t go on and turned my back to the TV as I started to walk toward (what else?) the kitchen. Just then, Jillian firmly calls out, “Don’t give up now! I know it’s hard. I know you’re hurting. It’s got to hurt for change to take place! Now is not the time to give up. Let’s finish strong!” It felt as if she were standing in my living room. I got back to work and finished the workout as strong as I could.

Those words came to me this morning as two of my students were led away to be suspended by the Dean because they skipped detention that I had assigned to them for laying their heads down in class. I have made it a class rule –

Do NOT put your head down in this class – not during SSR, not ever.

Head Down = Detention

Detention = Pick up Trash Outside

Still, the students put their heads down in class. So, punishment is rendered. I am frustrated. They are passively disrespectful and it will drive me crazy if I let it.

I hear Jillian’s words echoing in my mind, “It’s got to hurt for change to take place.” That applies to my students, but even more so to me.  This is painful for them – to have a teacher who has high expectations, to have a teacher who doesn’t give in and give up and just show movies while they sleep. It’s going to hurt, but they will change.

This is even more painful for me, I’m sure. I am changing. I can feel it. I hope it’s a good change.

The Cost of Running Water

On my way out of school this afternoon, I heard the secretary tell the administrator, “I just stopped some people who were coming inside and they told me it was okay because they were going to the showers?” The administrator replied, “It’s okay. If they have lice, they can use the showers.”

I let the front door of the school shut behind me as I walked down the metal steps into the 25 degree sunshine contemplating the consequences of my choices while taking a deep breath and coaching myself to just keep putting one foot in front of the other, making a mental note to never use the school bathrooms again.

Shattered Dreams

10-10-10 – seems like a good day for reflection.


The words of a Gordon Lightfoot song come to mind, “Picking up the pieces of my sweet, shattered dream… I guess it must be wanderlust or trying to get free… Now, the thing that I call living is just being satisfied with knowing I got no one left to blame.”

For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to live in the wilds of Alaska. Away from civilization. Alone. Off the road system. It just seemed like the perfect life to me. A fairy tale of sorts.

Here I am. Yupik village. Off the road system. Away from civilization. I’ve never felt a greater feeling of being alone. It’s far from perfect.

I miss how Book Club feeds my nerdy side. I miss having random TV channels on for background noise. I miss the freedom that a car gives. I miss paging through cooking magazines, picking out a recipe and going to the store for that one special ingredient. I miss long hikes when I worry that I may go too far before turning around and not get back to my car before dark, or exhaustion, sets in. I miss going out for a drink with friends and laughing and dancing until we’re out of breath. I miss going for a long drive on Sunday afternoon and then stopping for a Peanut Butter Shake on the way home. I miss stopping by the winery to taste the latest they have to offer. I miss football games and theatre popcorn and KBay Mochas and coaching DDF. I miss sitting on my deck with a margarita while grilling my dinner and gazing at the snow-capped mountains and glaciers across the bay. I miss being friends with my kids’ parents. I miss my life.

I miss it like a lost love. I miss it and I’m scared that I’ll never get it back. I know that one can never truly go back to a place they were before. It will be different. I will be different. That saying, “God never gives you more than you can handle,” is a lie. People get more than they can handle every day. I feel like I may just break in half any day now.

How can a dream be so misguided? How could the target have been so off course? I have been shaken to the core. My dreams are shattered. Now what? How does someone, at 43, find a new dream? I’m scared to trust myself to dream again.

I know I'm in Alaska when...

It's 35 degrees on September 27 and I’m putting together a dog house with no instructions, 5 inch nails, and a hammer while a crowd of Yupik boys gathers around in amazement that a woman can make a dog house all by herself. Yep, I was racin’ daylight this evening after school, trying to get the dog house ready for Nali to use tomorrow. The weather is turning fast and snow is in the forecast. Winds have been averaging 20mph but may hit 35 again tomorrow – just too cold for a dog to be out in the wind with no shelter to escape it.

While I was working, Nali disappeared for about 10 minutes and came prancing home with a big moose leg bone in her mouth. She was in doggie heaven!

I did make a few boo-boos, but with those super-long-honkin’ nails, it was bound to happen! All in all, I think it turned out pretty good. When I was done with the building, I pulled it up under the house and situated it just so, hoping that the door will be out of the main wind. Then, I gathered dried grass from around the house to make a bed inside. It looks nice a cozy to me!

The huge nails!

Just getting started.

Oops!

Ta dah!

Dried grass for the inside.

It's Time for a Smoke



Cold morning on the river

 Winter is so close that I can feel it, literally! The wind the past few days has been voracious, devouring the leaves from the trees and making its howling presence known. Because of that, my attempt at smoking fish has been a trying one. I’ve smoked fish before, mind you. However, this is my first try in the tundra. There is no place that is completely out of the wind other than inside the house. I started with the smoker underneath a corner of the house but came out to check on it a couple of hours later and the lid had blown off. So, I moved it into our back door mud room but it wasn’t long before our kitchen smelled like a smokehouse. Then, I moved it to the back steps, and bungee chorded it down to keep it from shifting with the wind. It has now been there for 28 hours and the fish is still smoking, slowly smoking.



The Salmon has been brined and prepared for the smoker.

The temps didn’t get out of the 30’s today and with those 30mph winds, it felt like winter… at least it felt like winter in Homer. I took Nali out for a walk and my ears hurt and my jaw was frozen by the time we came in 15 minutes later – a hat is in order for my next venture outdoors, that’s for sure. Locals here tell me that it isn’t unusual for it to be 60 below in the winter. I’m a believer now with this cold wind in September.

I do like winter better than all the other seasons put together. I love the snowy blanket covering everything in its path. I love the howl of the wind. I love the comfort of a warm house after spending too long outside. I love the deceptively sunny days… deceiving you into going outside to enjoy the sun’s warmth, but the frigid air snaps at you the moment you open the door. I love the long nights, giving sloth a reason to come in and bed with you.

The final resting place for the smoker.

However, will I love 60 below and the isolation that brings? Will I love the snow drifting in under the outside door in my classroom? Will I love the creeping cold air as it finds its way through the cracks in the classroom walls? Will I love the fact that the heaters are old and broken in my classroom? I may not love it, but I will savor it – I can promise you that. It is an experience that will mold my soul and shape my future. What’s not to love about that?

Surviving without Survivor

At some point, you have to make a decision. Boundaries don't keep other people out. They fence you in. Life is messy. That's how we're made. So, you can waste your lives drawing lines. Or you can live your life crossing them. But there are some lines... that are way too dangerous to cross. ... Meredith Grey

Those of you out there in civilization know that this week and last week were the weeks of series season premiers on all of the network channels. Survivor. The Amazing Race. The Office. Grey’s Anatomy. Chuck. Glee. … and my personal guilty favorite… The Jersey Shore. Well, as exciting as that may be for all of you, we don’t have any TV channels here. That’s right. Zip. Zero. Nada. It seems that because our house is located just on the north side of the school and within spitting distance of houses on either side, we can’t get any satellite reception here which means (drum roll please)… NO TV!

Sarah and I have been subsisting on movies, borrowed from friends and rented through Netflix and Blockbuster (both via mail delivery). It’s a hard life and very much a challenge. You see, I am a self-proclaimed Reality TV addict. (The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem, right?) I was beginning to get the shakes.

Our Calendar



Sarah figured out early on that the major networks upload their TV shows online within a few days of the original airing, so she occasionally watches shows that way. However, internet is unreliable at our house and the computer screen is small. We tried hooking the computer up to the TV, but again the internet is unreliable and besides, we couldn’t figure out how to get the picture to show on the TV at all. Bummer, I know!

Last week, Sarah had had enough! She made it clear that on Friday (last night) we were going to have a “TV” night in my classroom – computer hooked up to the big screen projector – a night of all of our favorite shows. She’s even been keeping the calendar marked with the days of our shows so that we can keep track.


TV Night!

 So, last night we did it! We took over a load of snuggies, popcorn, chips, peach tea, and the space heater (just in case). Nali even went with us. We watched Survivor, Jersey Shore, and Grey’s Anatomy! There were times when buffering videos slowed things down a bit, but it was still a real treat! We came home at 10pm with smiles on our faces and a feeling of contentment that only a night of watching TV (with commercials!) can give you.

We are Survivors!

… oh, and it was pretty funny when Jim was locking up the school (there was a basketball tournament going on) and he came down the hall with his headlamp on to see what the noise was in my classroom. I believe he got a good laugh to see us all snuggled in with blankets and makeshift recliners, munching on popcorn, and watching Meredith try to get approved by the hospital psych guy to go back to surgery (Grey’s).

What makes Mother Earth cry?

The trash around the school.

The trash is everywhere. I find it hard to understand. Sarah and I spent 30 minutes picking up trash on the ground around our house after school today, filling 1 ½ garbage bags in that short time period. There will be trash in our yard again tomorrow. I’m not sure if it’s just the kids or if it’s the adults, too. The kids throw their gum wrappers, soda cans, chip bags, everything – it gets thrown on the ground, everywhere. Sarah and I feel like we live in the middle of a landfill.






 We couldn’t stand it any longer, so we went on a rage today, armed with rubber gloves and trash bags, we at least made the area around our house clean. But, the kids have no sense of ownership, of personal space, of taking care of the land. Therefore, the trash will be everywhere, again… soon.

I would think that the native people would take more pride in Mother Earth. I thought that they, above all others, would “leave no trace.” I was wrong. How can these people just use the land instead of care for it? It saddens my heart as it hurts my eyes to look around at the dump they have created.

Commonplace, in our "dry" village.

Other teachers have tried to pick up the trash, but it’s a never-ending process and they eventually give up. So the trash builds. When I asked a co-worker about it, their response was, “It’ll look better this winter when it’s covered with snow.” What?!

Our yard, clean at last!

Those of you who know me well know that I am a tree hugger, a recycler, a re-user. To be so helpless here is very hard on me.

Tundra Highlights

“Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting. So... get on your way.” … Dr. Seuss

Elementary Cross Country Racers

Another week has come and gone. The frost covers the grass in the wee hours and the tundra is donning its fall colors. As if that weren’t enough excitement, Kwethluk hosted a Cross Country meet last Friday. There were three races – elementary, junior high, and high school – with schools flying in from Akiak, Akiachuk, Oscarville, and Bethel. The races were from one to three miles long and there was even a community-wide Fun Run that evening. And, yes, the rain even abated for us. That brought out droves of people – it was quite an event!



High School Cross Country Racers

 Stefanie, Ashley, and I had to head to Bethel on a 7pm charter for a First-Year Teacher Inservice on Saturday. It feels pretty weird to be a first-year teacher… AGAIN! Anya, our itinerant school counselor, shared the plan ride back to Bethel with us. It was her Birthday! When our pilot found that out, he grinned and said to her, “I’ll give you a roller-coaster ride for your birthday!” To which Anya quickly replied, “And I’ll give you a present of Corn Dogs and Green Beans.” The pilot sheepishly responded, “This’ll be the smoothest ride you’ve ever had!” He certainly delivered.

Ashley (Science Teacher) with one
of the village pups



Anya's Birthday Flight



It was a beautiful flight – fall colors and clear skies. The four of us squeezed into exactly four seats on the plane, but not before announcing our weight to the pilot. This is certainly an anomaly in Alaska. Every time I fly anywhere, the pilot asks for everyone’s weight and documents it in a logbook of sorts. There is no room for vanity out here, that’s for sure! I’ve even had the guy at the ticket counter in Bethel call to me across the room before, “Hey, how much do you weigh?” No matter that there is 15 feet between us, I simply yell back, “One-eighty.” Everybody does it. Nobody cares.



Ashley and Anya departing the aircraft

When we arrived at the Yute airport terminal, baggage claim is a bit of a myth. Boxes and bags are just stacked and taken away – no security, no problem. Heck, there’s no boarding passes or seat assignments – what do they need security for?

Our "luggage" (coolers, boxes, backpacks)



Once we collected our bags and called the LKSD (Lower Kuskokwim School District) DO (District Office) to come pick us up, we collected our bags and headed out to the curb (actually, there are no curbs). Our chariot (named Desire, no doubt) arrived with Ross at the wheel. He seems to be the DO chauffer these days and he drove us the few miles into town.





It truly was a streetcar named Desire!
(or maybe a vanbus full of desirable ladies?!)



Our Bethel Chariot



The inside of our Bethel Chariot.

It was a quick trip, arriving in Bethel at 7:30pm Friday night and then attending the inservice 8am-3pm on Saturday. We had time for a quick trip to the grocery store before heading back to the airport for our 5pm flight back to Kwethluk. However, once at the airport, we were told that Yute had overbooked all the charters and so they were running late. We were 3rd in line for our plane that had to take a group to one village, come back and take another group to another village, and then come back and take us to our village. Those planes must log millions of miles! We finally got back to Kwethluk a little after 7pm Saturday evening.

Fireweed cotton



I spent five hours Sunday (morning until afternoon) working in my classroom. It was beautiful outside and Sarah and I took Nali for a long walk in the late afternoon. We made the loop through Uptown (we live uptown, upriver, as opposed to downtown, downriver) and then headed out Airport Road. On our walk, we noticed that the Fireweed has turned to cotton – a sure sign that summer is over. We walked far enough out toward the airport to see the Kuskokwim Mountains in the distance. That was my goal… to see the mountains.



I miss the mountains terribly. I knew I would, but it’s still hard. It wouldn’t be so bad if we had a 4-wheeler to get out on the tundra, to get out into nature. But, we don’t. All we have is our two feet and those don’t work well in this rain-soaked marshy land. I dream about having a snowmobile (aka snowmachine or snowgo) this winter so that we can have some freedom. There’s not very far one can walk around here and we’re feeling a little penned in. No endless beach to walk. No water taxi to take us across the bay to the mountains. Not even a 4-wheeler to take us to where the berries are, or were… we missed out on that. (sigh)