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)