Nanwalek

I read this on someone's blog today (they are referring to a nearby - across the bay - Aluttiq village)...
"Nanwalek feels more like a 3rd world country than anything I’ve encountered in the U.S. People own ATVs instead of cars, live in dilapidated houses, and struggle with deafness and diabetes related to in-breeding, not to mention mental health issues such as depression and alcohol addiction."

Nanwalek has a reputation for having the highest HIV rate in the nation. I had heard this before and don't know anyone who goes to Nanwalek to "visit," but I had wondered how much truth there was to it. After a little digging online, I found this...
"But secrets are badly kept in Nanwalek. Evans' job was to staunch the spread of the HIV virus that had infected one in seven adults. It came with the oil, when Exxon's clean-up crews shared their needles and sexual appetites with village residents. Nanwalek's unhappy secret was the women's discovery that children had been molested by drunk, possibly infected, relatives." (GregPalast.com)

Nanwalek, meaning "place by lagoon", is not more than 15 miles (as the crow flies) from Homer, yet it is truly a world away. This village of 200 people is accessible only by boat or plane, landing on the beach at low tide. Only 5% of the population has any college education. Their water is taken from a surface stream, treated, and piped to all homes in the village. Sewer is piped from village homes to a community septic tank. The village even has electricity. However, to travel to Nanwalek, one must have the prior approval of the village Chief.

Although Alutiiq people have lived in this region for thousands of years, the community of Nanwalek began as a Russian trading post, built by fur traders in 1785. It was first named "Alexandrovsk" after the Russian tsar, Alexander I. Alutiiq families settled Alexandrovsk as it was a center of commerce, a place where they could trade furs for Western goods. After the Russian's left Alaska in 1867, the village name was change to English Bay. In 1991, villagers changed the community's name again, selecting Nanwalek. I'm not sure why. I would guess it would have something to do with the natives wanting their village to have a native name. But, a name doesn't change a place's history. A name doesn't wipe the slate clean.

Knowing that 9% of Alaskan teenagers attempt suicide and 70% of those are natives, it makes me pause. As I roll these words and numbers around in my mind, I feel my chest tighten. I sit here, in Homer, a mere 15 miles from the third world. Disconnected. Thankful. Thoughtful.

Dreams

Today is a thoughtful day for me. Sarah had her senior pictures taken this afternoon. It was a two hour, outdoor process with several outfit changes. They started at Bishop’s Beach, then went to the docks at the marina and finally to a beautiful setting up on the bluffs above Homer where the leaves are changing. Today’s forecast called for a 60% chance of rain, but we actually had sunshine peeking through the clouds all day – a blessing. Most senior pictures in Homer are done outside – photography studios are a myth in this beautiful seaside community. The outdoors is truly embraced here like I’ve never seen anywhere else. The 50 degree temps made it a bit chilly but the mountains provided a blanket-like backdrop.

Sarah’s Senior year. While that brings much excitement with it, it is also bittersweet. It is an ending and a beginning all wrapped up in one. It will be the end to 14 years of my number one job being a single parent. My taxi service, overnight chaperone service, making of daily breakfasts, lunches, and dinners for someone else, and everything else that goes along with daily parenting will disappear, literally overnight, next August. Both of my little chicks will be out of the nest and on their own. It will just be me (and the dog and the cats). I understand that the empty nest syndrome is a difficult time for married couples. I cannot even fathom how I will deal with it alone. But, like the tides coming in every day, it will happen. It will change the landscape for me, but I will still be here, embarking on a new adventure.

Last March, my lifelong dream of living in the bush came crashing down around me. It’s all I’d ever wanted. That’s where I saw myself when my kids were gone from home. I’d live and teach in the bush. Reality became a nightmare. My dreams shattered. I stumbled back from that experience wounded and lost. I had to start over, literally. I’ve always been a person with big dreams and goals to make them come true. When I realized my dream was not what I wanted anymore, I was shaken to my core. What now? Forty-four years old and… what now? Well, I’ve gotten my balance back and have done a lot of soul searching. Who am I? What are my talents? What do I really want out of life? Where do I want to be emotionally, financially, and geographically in 10 years? How do my soon-to-be-grown children play into all of this?

Well, I’m here to tell you, “When your dreams turn to dust, vacuum. Then, begin to dream again!”

This is what I know about myself: I love Homer, writing, cooking, being outside, teaching, being around teens, making people happy, and trying new things. I’m good at writing, cooking/baking, organizing, managing and motivating people, teaching, and selling (that’s an awful lot like teaching).

While both of my daughters are embarking on the next big adventures in their lives, I’m working on a new dream. It will involve all of the things that I love and am good at. If there’s one thing I’ve taught my girls, it’s to dream big. I feel like one of those little mechanized toy cars that you wind up and put on the floor and it zooms off, only to run into a chair leg, back up, turn in another direction and zoom off again.

Carrie King (check out Kings of Small Things on Facebook) worked at the Homer News this summer and she’s working on a terrific project. She asked what my message to America would be. I didn’t even have to give it a second thought – LIVE YOUR DREAM!