This year, as I have done many times before, I celebrated Thanksgiving with friends instead of family. The food was great, the company was wonderful, and the discussion was lively and fun. The people who did the most to make this meal happen are always the life of the party and have a special way of bringing folks together. I am thankful for having them in my life.
When I was a boy, it was our family's tradition for the women to prepare the feast and the men to go into the deer woods. Most years, the hunters came home empty-handed and we didn't really care that the venison was still in the woods because it's the opportunity to hunt that counts, not the kill. I was reminded of this today when I talked to my uncle on the telephone. Last summer, he had open heart surgery and is still recovering, but he was able to hunt in his favorite deer woods, in his favorite stand. He didn't bring home any venison, but he was thankful for the opportunity to hunt.
As a man, our Thanksgiving hunts with my son and nephews have given me a special appreciation for this family tradition. My son took his first deer on such a hunt and I have taken some too. I really felt it today as I thought back to those days. The camaraderie that hunters share cannot be replaced by any other event. Only hunters share the woods with their prey and with each other. Only hunters know the smells and sounds of the woods, and only hunters feel the cold air and feel the weight of steel in their hands. I am thankful to have had those opportunities to pass on my family's tradition and I hope to do it many more times in the future.
Today I feasted with friends, but it's not the same as hunting with family. I miss my family, but mostly, I am thankful to have them in my life.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
SNOW!!!
When I returned from Anchorage, I was welcomed by a fresh blanket of snow on the tundra. I have always liked the snow and cold so the sight of snow is comforting to me. I am going to try to do a little Cross Country Skiing this weekend. I am still weak so I don't think I will last very long. I have been getting a little exercise in the school gym a few nights a week in an attempt to increase my stamina.
The river is frozen and that means that I can ski, walk, or snowmobile out of the village. I can't wait until I'm strong enough to escape for a little while.
I got to do a little fishing through the ice last week. I went for a walk around the village and saw some folks fishing so I went to say hi and be nosey. One of the fishermen was one of our Yup'ik teachers and she was cold. She said "Hi Jerry. Here, catch some Pike. I'm cold." and she walked home. She had given me her fishing gear as she passed. I wasn't really dressed for ice fishing but I found a hole and started fishing. One of the other fellows on the ice was my colleague's brother. He chatted me up and shared some advice about how Eskimos do it.
As with everything else in the Yup'ik world, the fishing gear is basic and simple. No Tip-Ups, no miniature rods with tiny reels, and no depth finders. The gear is a stick about a foot and a half long with heavy cloth fishing line, a steel leader with a big jig on the end, and some fish gut on the hook. I love it! No sportsman toys to feed the ego are needed here because their fish aren't impressed.
I got to participate in another significant cultural event recently; a funeral. On of the men passed away from cancer. He was only 60 years old and well liked by the people. As you can imagine, there are no funeral homes here. Most often, the body of the deceased is returned to the home for viewing and grieving. I didn't know the man in life, but as a part of the community, I was expected to pay my respects to the family. I always get a little weirded out about seeing dead bodies. To me, it is not beneficial to the process of creating happy memories so I hate to do it. Luckily, one of my fellow teachers suggested that we go together so we did. It was an uneasy event but I survived it. The funeral was the next day and school was let out early and everyone was expected to attend that too. The deceased was a Moravian Christian. The service was all in Yup'ik and lasted two full hours. It was torture. I don't know what the minister said to send this fellow off, but it sure seemed proper to me. I didn't go to the grave side service because I was way under dressed for the weather (but I looked great!) and I had had enough Yup'ik praying and singing for one day. I hope my next cultural experience is a happy one.
The river is frozen and that means that I can ski, walk, or snowmobile out of the village. I can't wait until I'm strong enough to escape for a little while.
I got to do a little fishing through the ice last week. I went for a walk around the village and saw some folks fishing so I went to say hi and be nosey. One of the fishermen was one of our Yup'ik teachers and she was cold. She said "Hi Jerry. Here, catch some Pike. I'm cold." and she walked home. She had given me her fishing gear as she passed. I wasn't really dressed for ice fishing but I found a hole and started fishing. One of the other fellows on the ice was my colleague's brother. He chatted me up and shared some advice about how Eskimos do it.
As with everything else in the Yup'ik world, the fishing gear is basic and simple. No Tip-Ups, no miniature rods with tiny reels, and no depth finders. The gear is a stick about a foot and a half long with heavy cloth fishing line, a steel leader with a big jig on the end, and some fish gut on the hook. I love it! No sportsman toys to feed the ego are needed here because their fish aren't impressed.
I got to participate in another significant cultural event recently; a funeral. On of the men passed away from cancer. He was only 60 years old and well liked by the people. As you can imagine, there are no funeral homes here. Most often, the body of the deceased is returned to the home for viewing and grieving. I didn't know the man in life, but as a part of the community, I was expected to pay my respects to the family. I always get a little weirded out about seeing dead bodies. To me, it is not beneficial to the process of creating happy memories so I hate to do it. Luckily, one of my fellow teachers suggested that we go together so we did. It was an uneasy event but I survived it. The funeral was the next day and school was let out early and everyone was expected to attend that too. The deceased was a Moravian Christian. The service was all in Yup'ik and lasted two full hours. It was torture. I don't know what the minister said to send this fellow off, but it sure seemed proper to me. I didn't go to the grave side service because I was way under dressed for the weather (but I looked great!) and I had had enough Yup'ik praying and singing for one day. I hope my next cultural experience is a happy one.
Sorry... I was too sick to write!
Here are the past journals that I failed to send.
September 25th 2007
Some Time to Coast?
The 15th of September was our last Cross Country Race for the regular season. As expected, some of the larger schools put on a clinic and showed us how to run a race. These are also the schools that have tryouts and people make or do not make the team. I prefer to have the team where the athletes compete because they enjoy doing it. Well, most of them enjoy it.
One of my junior high girls got a wild hair you know where and decided that she was not going to run. Just flat refused to run. Sheesh, I would ever dream that an athlete would have the gall to quit the team and her friends half an hour before race time. Her reason was that she wanted to run in the high school race so her former friends from a different village wouldn’t see her running with the junior high. She said that running in her age group was humiliating, so she quit. UNBELIEVABLE!!! I was steamed and at the same time, very disappointed in her lack of humility. What an arrogant little terd.
The rest of the team made me proud. We weren’t the fastest, but no one tried harder than we did. The Atmautluak team ran until they could breath and then they ran without air. Aside from the quitter, only one person was not able to finish and that was for medical reasons. Maybe that’s why I have such a low opinion of that girl.
I enjoyed the evenings without practices and having Saturday to myself. I had time to grade papers and do teacher stuff. Then I was asked to coach Volleyball. I refused. Then it was wrestling and again, I refused. Then some of the kids who really wanted to wrestle laid on the sob story and the guild real thick and I caved in. I agreed to coach wrestling. I don’t know anything about coaching wrestling. Just like I didn’t know anything about cross country. Everyone has assured me that they will not hold my ignorance against me as long as we have a team and we get to compete. Yeah, right. Through further investigation, I learned that we have NO EQUIPMENT. No wrestling mats, only tumbling mats. No head gear or facemasks and none of those cute little “George of the Jungle” suits that real wrestlers wear. I think we are in for trouble and I’m in for a bunch of work.
Part of that work came in the form of moving the weightlifting equipment out of storage and into an old building. I decided to tackle this task on a Saturday so I lined up some help on Friday. Well, the kids that agreed to help me never showed up and the only other able bodied staffer went moose hunting. I am used to working alone so I started moving the stuff. One of my students, a 9 year old girl, asked to help. She proved to be a fantastic worker so she and I moved most of the equipment and toward the end some other little kids helped out too. Of course the kids wanted to “USE” the equipment. I let them play around with it and I only interfered when I saw something unsafe happening. One of the pieces is an Ab-Roller, this little wheel with handles for your stomach muscles. It’s the simplest thing to use but it packs a punch. When I was demonstrating it, I felt this burning sensation in my lower back. It felt very much like the burning sensation that I felt the last time I pulled my hamstring, back on the first day of cross country practice. Yep, you guessed it. I monkeyed around and hurt my back.
Sometimes when I strain my back, I can jog and work out the soreness. So on Sunday morning I set out on a jog. It was a cool, crisp morning about 8:00 a.m. I felt ready for a run. My back hurt just as I thought it would and I knew the medicine I needed was to run. When I left the porch and got on the boardwalk I started out at a slow jog to get warmed up and then I really did it. There was some of that invisible frost on the boards and my feet slipped. When I tried to regain my balance I felt more of that burning sensation in my back. I had officially goofed up my back. It hurt so bad that I couldn’t breathe. Instead of running, I walked for about a mile and returned home. Hoping that I wouldn’t get too sore but it was no use.
Since then, life has been no fun. It hurts when I move and it hurts when I sit still. It has me walking funny and tying my shoes is long term project. I have to stop every few seconds for the pain so it takes twice as long. I am slowly getting better but I hate not being able to do P.E. with my kids. I am hoping to be 80% right by the time wrestling starts and 100% by the first match. I have my fingers crossed for luck.
3 October 2007
Pneumonia!
Have you ever been under a lot of pressure at work or at home and just when you think you have the problem figured out and maybe even whipped, the unthinkable happens? That is happened to me last week. My learning curve for teaching and managing the "phased education model" has been very steep. Likewise, the coaching for wrestling and Native Youth Olympics (asst. coach) has demanded very much of my energy. Along with this I have been trying to exercise so I may regain some of my health and lose some weight. Two weeks ago I fought off a chest cold. Last Wednesday I felt achy and went to bed with a fever. On Thursday, I decided to go to the health clinic. I arranged for a substitute teacher (my very first ever) and meandered across the village.
It took me longer to walk across the village, this morning, than it normally takes for me to run the entire perimeter of the village. When I arrived I was told that I must make an appointment prior to coming because of their volume of patience. Luckily, there was a vacancy for me. We have no doctors or nurses here so we have health techs screen each patient and fax the initial findings to the hospital in Bethel. The hospital either asks for more information or decides on an appropriate course of action. It's not perfect system but it works.
In my case, everyone (including me) thought that strep throat was my bug and we took that course of action. I was given a prescription and some good advice sent on my merry way. I was also told that I could return to work on Friday.
Fridays morning came and I felt pretty good so I went to do me job. As the day ebbed, I could feel my life being drained away. It was almost like having one of those video game life meters that tell you when you are at half life and going down. My whole body hurt and my head was ready to explode. Breathing and pain were only things on my mind.
At the first opportunity, I went to the phone to schedule a follow up appointment with the clinic. I had my visit and as soon as I got home my phone was ringing. The hospital sent orders for me to get on the next available flight to Bethel. I had to go the emergency room.
What a might mare! Calling airlines for next available seats, packing for an overnight night stay (or more?), cash for the cab, where will I stay, where is the hospital, and on and on. Thanks to Tatiana, our secretary, and others I was able to make it to the hospital safely and in a timely manner.
The license bureau and the emergency room are two places that always take it on the chin as dens of wasted time. The ER at Bethel has set the standard for inefficiency. The first 2-HOURS I spent there were filled with the normal errands to here and to there for EKG, Chest X-Rays, and blood work; pretty typical stuff. The next 3-HOURS were spent trying to chat up the natives (only one taker), people watching, and a little long-range TV watching. The women here are giving up smoking. Instead, they are taking up dipping snuff. Yeah, like our country boys do. You can tell it in their smile. It is also appropriate to have take-out delivered to the EM so you don't starve while you wait. That too, was a 1st for me.
Finally! My name is called. I only had to wait 5 hours and 15 minutes for the moment. I met with a doctor Smith who had my best health in mind (that was sarcasm). He said "Jerry, I have reviewed your labs and x-rays and there is not a lot to see." "I don't think you have pneumonia, I think what you have is strep throat with some other viral crud that is going around." I was taken aback by this. All of the pain and vomiting and coughing of blood was just CRUD? What exactly is crud? Then he started asking me questions off of his checklist. These were the same questions that the 4 people prior to him asked and wrote answers to, in my chart. In fact, I could see those very forms on his clipboard. Instead of answering his questions I suggested that he look at the papers in his hand for the answer. Sure enough, the answers were in my chart that he had claimed to have read. By now I knew that something wasn't right and I was getting angry. Dr. Smith said "I think what we will do is give you a breathing treatment and send you on your way." I interrupted him. I said "What about the spot on the x-ray that is about here on my chest, pointing to my left ribcage, that is giving so much pain and what about my temperature?' He paused for a long moment, like kid who has just been caught. "Uh, well, of course I'll take a listen." He listened and said "I'll be right back." then he left for about 15 minutes. When he returned, he said "Jerry, I sort of lied to you a little." "Before when I told you that I looked at your x-rays and stuff, I hadn't." "You are right; there are signs of pneumonia in your labs and x-rays."
I can't believe that this guy was about to send me away because I didn't look sick enough to him. I wanted to punch him smack in his face. This could have been one of those weird cases of someone dying from something that is very controllable. And not just someone, ME!
On the bright side, I now know how painful pneumonia and strep throat are. I also know that if it doesn't sound or feel right, then it's not. Be ready to take care of yourself because, you may be your only source of care. I will get another blog entry written while I'm sick so hang in there my friends.
October 23rd.
Finally!
Since my last entry, my life got real serious. The pneumonia got worse and I had to have emergency surgery. When I went for my follow-up at the village clinic, the med. Tech. was alarmed that she couldn’t hear any air move in or out of my left lung. Once again, I had to take a trip to Bethel. This time I was to report to one of the clinics inside the hospital. I was a little more optimistic about this visit to the hospital than I was about the emergency room. I was foolish. I got more of the same run around and I heard those same words again; “you don’t LOOK like you’re that sick.” Once again, the doctor was going to send me home. I knew that she was making a mistake that I couldn’t live with. I also knew that if I was going to get well I would have to take matters into my own hands. First, I demanded to be admitted and transferred to Anchorage. They refused to admit me because I didn’t LOOK sick enough. They sent me out to get some lunch and when I came back I finally looked sick. One of the nurses noticed that I was in some respiratory distress and took me back to the exam room. I hammed it up a little bit to sell it because I needed to look sick enough to great proper treatment. Finally, the doctor said that I was going to be admitted, but not sent to Anchorage as I requested.
As usual, I had to have an IV so I could get fluids, and etcetera. At final count, I was poked thirteen times before I was properly needled. I still have bruises from it. I was in the hospital at Bethel for roughly three days and then transferred. Before I was transferred, though, the doctors tried to relieve some of the pressure in my chest by attempting to sick a small tube through my back into my chest cavity in order to draw off some fluid. They did this three times and each one failed. It was then that they had the big idea to evacuate me to Anchorage.
Things started to look up. I was put on a Cessna Citation business jet and flown quite comfortably to Anchorage. Once on the ground, I was sent to the very nice, very professional Providence Hospital in Anchorage. I was stabilized and made comfortable until I could get my turn in the Operating Room. To top things off, my wife and son flew to Alaska to be with me.
I was so very happy to see my family and I felt very much at ease. They stayed with me through my surgery and recovery and gave me all of the support I could possibly need. After that, I only saw them occasionally because they went sight seeing at every possible moment. They had a wonderful time and they filmed their adventures so I could share in their good time with me.
November 14th 2007
I'm much better now. Since I was out of the classroom for about a month, I have had a lot to do to get back on track. I think that the time for my excuses has passed so I'll be writing regularly again.
September 25th 2007
Some Time to Coast?
The 15th of September was our last Cross Country Race for the regular season. As expected, some of the larger schools put on a clinic and showed us how to run a race. These are also the schools that have tryouts and people make or do not make the team. I prefer to have the team where the athletes compete because they enjoy doing it. Well, most of them enjoy it.
One of my junior high girls got a wild hair you know where and decided that she was not going to run. Just flat refused to run. Sheesh, I would ever dream that an athlete would have the gall to quit the team and her friends half an hour before race time. Her reason was that she wanted to run in the high school race so her former friends from a different village wouldn’t see her running with the junior high. She said that running in her age group was humiliating, so she quit. UNBELIEVABLE!!! I was steamed and at the same time, very disappointed in her lack of humility. What an arrogant little terd.
The rest of the team made me proud. We weren’t the fastest, but no one tried harder than we did. The Atmautluak team ran until they could breath and then they ran without air. Aside from the quitter, only one person was not able to finish and that was for medical reasons. Maybe that’s why I have such a low opinion of that girl.
I enjoyed the evenings without practices and having Saturday to myself. I had time to grade papers and do teacher stuff. Then I was asked to coach Volleyball. I refused. Then it was wrestling and again, I refused. Then some of the kids who really wanted to wrestle laid on the sob story and the guild real thick and I caved in. I agreed to coach wrestling. I don’t know anything about coaching wrestling. Just like I didn’t know anything about cross country. Everyone has assured me that they will not hold my ignorance against me as long as we have a team and we get to compete. Yeah, right. Through further investigation, I learned that we have NO EQUIPMENT. No wrestling mats, only tumbling mats. No head gear or facemasks and none of those cute little “George of the Jungle” suits that real wrestlers wear. I think we are in for trouble and I’m in for a bunch of work.
Part of that work came in the form of moving the weightlifting equipment out of storage and into an old building. I decided to tackle this task on a Saturday so I lined up some help on Friday. Well, the kids that agreed to help me never showed up and the only other able bodied staffer went moose hunting. I am used to working alone so I started moving the stuff. One of my students, a 9 year old girl, asked to help. She proved to be a fantastic worker so she and I moved most of the equipment and toward the end some other little kids helped out too. Of course the kids wanted to “USE” the equipment. I let them play around with it and I only interfered when I saw something unsafe happening. One of the pieces is an Ab-Roller, this little wheel with handles for your stomach muscles. It’s the simplest thing to use but it packs a punch. When I was demonstrating it, I felt this burning sensation in my lower back. It felt very much like the burning sensation that I felt the last time I pulled my hamstring, back on the first day of cross country practice. Yep, you guessed it. I monkeyed around and hurt my back.
Sometimes when I strain my back, I can jog and work out the soreness. So on Sunday morning I set out on a jog. It was a cool, crisp morning about 8:00 a.m. I felt ready for a run. My back hurt just as I thought it would and I knew the medicine I needed was to run. When I left the porch and got on the boardwalk I started out at a slow jog to get warmed up and then I really did it. There was some of that invisible frost on the boards and my feet slipped. When I tried to regain my balance I felt more of that burning sensation in my back. I had officially goofed up my back. It hurt so bad that I couldn’t breathe. Instead of running, I walked for about a mile and returned home. Hoping that I wouldn’t get too sore but it was no use.
Since then, life has been no fun. It hurts when I move and it hurts when I sit still. It has me walking funny and tying my shoes is long term project. I have to stop every few seconds for the pain so it takes twice as long. I am slowly getting better but I hate not being able to do P.E. with my kids. I am hoping to be 80% right by the time wrestling starts and 100% by the first match. I have my fingers crossed for luck.
3 October 2007
Pneumonia!
Have you ever been under a lot of pressure at work or at home and just when you think you have the problem figured out and maybe even whipped, the unthinkable happens? That is happened to me last week. My learning curve for teaching and managing the "phased education model" has been very steep. Likewise, the coaching for wrestling and Native Youth Olympics (asst. coach) has demanded very much of my energy. Along with this I have been trying to exercise so I may regain some of my health and lose some weight. Two weeks ago I fought off a chest cold. Last Wednesday I felt achy and went to bed with a fever. On Thursday, I decided to go to the health clinic. I arranged for a substitute teacher (my very first ever) and meandered across the village.
It took me longer to walk across the village, this morning, than it normally takes for me to run the entire perimeter of the village. When I arrived I was told that I must make an appointment prior to coming because of their volume of patience. Luckily, there was a vacancy for me. We have no doctors or nurses here so we have health techs screen each patient and fax the initial findings to the hospital in Bethel. The hospital either asks for more information or decides on an appropriate course of action. It's not perfect system but it works.
In my case, everyone (including me) thought that strep throat was my bug and we took that course of action. I was given a prescription and some good advice sent on my merry way. I was also told that I could return to work on Friday.
Fridays morning came and I felt pretty good so I went to do me job. As the day ebbed, I could feel my life being drained away. It was almost like having one of those video game life meters that tell you when you are at half life and going down. My whole body hurt and my head was ready to explode. Breathing and pain were only things on my mind.
At the first opportunity, I went to the phone to schedule a follow up appointment with the clinic. I had my visit and as soon as I got home my phone was ringing. The hospital sent orders for me to get on the next available flight to Bethel. I had to go the emergency room.
What a might mare! Calling airlines for next available seats, packing for an overnight night stay (or more?), cash for the cab, where will I stay, where is the hospital, and on and on. Thanks to Tatiana, our secretary, and others I was able to make it to the hospital safely and in a timely manner.
The license bureau and the emergency room are two places that always take it on the chin as dens of wasted time. The ER at Bethel has set the standard for inefficiency. The first 2-HOURS I spent there were filled with the normal errands to here and to there for EKG, Chest X-Rays, and blood work; pretty typical stuff. The next 3-HOURS were spent trying to chat up the natives (only one taker), people watching, and a little long-range TV watching. The women here are giving up smoking. Instead, they are taking up dipping snuff. Yeah, like our country boys do. You can tell it in their smile. It is also appropriate to have take-out delivered to the EM so you don't starve while you wait. That too, was a 1st for me.
Finally! My name is called. I only had to wait 5 hours and 15 minutes for the moment. I met with a doctor Smith who had my best health in mind (that was sarcasm). He said "Jerry, I have reviewed your labs and x-rays and there is not a lot to see." "I don't think you have pneumonia, I think what you have is strep throat with some other viral crud that is going around." I was taken aback by this. All of the pain and vomiting and coughing of blood was just CRUD? What exactly is crud? Then he started asking me questions off of his checklist. These were the same questions that the 4 people prior to him asked and wrote answers to, in my chart. In fact, I could see those very forms on his clipboard. Instead of answering his questions I suggested that he look at the papers in his hand for the answer. Sure enough, the answers were in my chart that he had claimed to have read. By now I knew that something wasn't right and I was getting angry. Dr. Smith said "I think what we will do is give you a breathing treatment and send you on your way." I interrupted him. I said "What about the spot on the x-ray that is about here on my chest, pointing to my left ribcage, that is giving so much pain and what about my temperature?' He paused for a long moment, like kid who has just been caught. "Uh, well, of course I'll take a listen." He listened and said "I'll be right back." then he left for about 15 minutes. When he returned, he said "Jerry, I sort of lied to you a little." "Before when I told you that I looked at your x-rays and stuff, I hadn't." "You are right; there are signs of pneumonia in your labs and x-rays."
I can't believe that this guy was about to send me away because I didn't look sick enough to him. I wanted to punch him smack in his face. This could have been one of those weird cases of someone dying from something that is very controllable. And not just someone, ME!
On the bright side, I now know how painful pneumonia and strep throat are. I also know that if it doesn't sound or feel right, then it's not. Be ready to take care of yourself because, you may be your only source of care. I will get another blog entry written while I'm sick so hang in there my friends.
October 23rd.
Finally!
Since my last entry, my life got real serious. The pneumonia got worse and I had to have emergency surgery. When I went for my follow-up at the village clinic, the med. Tech. was alarmed that she couldn’t hear any air move in or out of my left lung. Once again, I had to take a trip to Bethel. This time I was to report to one of the clinics inside the hospital. I was a little more optimistic about this visit to the hospital than I was about the emergency room. I was foolish. I got more of the same run around and I heard those same words again; “you don’t LOOK like you’re that sick.” Once again, the doctor was going to send me home. I knew that she was making a mistake that I couldn’t live with. I also knew that if I was going to get well I would have to take matters into my own hands. First, I demanded to be admitted and transferred to Anchorage. They refused to admit me because I didn’t LOOK sick enough. They sent me out to get some lunch and when I came back I finally looked sick. One of the nurses noticed that I was in some respiratory distress and took me back to the exam room. I hammed it up a little bit to sell it because I needed to look sick enough to great proper treatment. Finally, the doctor said that I was going to be admitted, but not sent to Anchorage as I requested.
As usual, I had to have an IV so I could get fluids, and etcetera. At final count, I was poked thirteen times before I was properly needled. I still have bruises from it. I was in the hospital at Bethel for roughly three days and then transferred. Before I was transferred, though, the doctors tried to relieve some of the pressure in my chest by attempting to sick a small tube through my back into my chest cavity in order to draw off some fluid. They did this three times and each one failed. It was then that they had the big idea to evacuate me to Anchorage.
Things started to look up. I was put on a Cessna Citation business jet and flown quite comfortably to Anchorage. Once on the ground, I was sent to the very nice, very professional Providence Hospital in Anchorage. I was stabilized and made comfortable until I could get my turn in the Operating Room. To top things off, my wife and son flew to Alaska to be with me.
I was so very happy to see my family and I felt very much at ease. They stayed with me through my surgery and recovery and gave me all of the support I could possibly need. After that, I only saw them occasionally because they went sight seeing at every possible moment. They had a wonderful time and they filmed their adventures so I could share in their good time with me.
November 14th 2007
I'm much better now. Since I was out of the classroom for about a month, I have had a lot to do to get back on track. I think that the time for my excuses has passed so I'll be writing regularly again.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Another Fine Day to be Alive!
Since I can remember, I have been a subscriber of The Magazine for Practical Outdoorsmen: Fur – Fish – Game. In that magazine there is a section called “I Knew That!” In the September 2007 edition of Fur – Fish – Game (page 2) a reader named Randy Zink offered a suggestion that you can use the bottom of a ceramic cup – you know, a coffee cup—as a knife sharpening stone. Since I foolishly did not bring any of my own stones to Alaska with me, I tried it. Guess what, Randy was right, it works. It will take a little getting used to but I sharpened my favorite kitchen knife (the knife that gets abused) on it and I am pleased with the resulting edge. Thanks Randy and thanks Fur – Fish – Game magazine!
14 September 2007
Staying Busy
It has been quite a while since I last wrote anything. Between planning lessons and coaching cross country, I have not had time to do much of anything.
My recent trip to Goodnews Bay was very nice. They don’t have trees either, but the mountains and the Bering Sea were wonderful. I would love to live and teach there but the people who go there, stay there. Across the bay is the small village of Platinum. We have a school there but it’s closed. There was once a Platinum Mine there but it has been closed for quite a while. When the mine closed all but the heartiest of the citizens left too. Someone is building a fish processing plant there that will operate in the summer. If that brings in enough full time residents to warrant the reopening of the school, I’ll be first in line with my resume’ in hand.
Our mode of transportation to and from Goodnews Bay was in Cessna 207s. The weather was extremely rough. So rough that there was talk about us being “weathered – in” and staying until the storm passed. After seeing the first plane I was a little nervous anyhow. The ceiling panel was being help up by duct tape. I thought to myself “There’s no duct tape on the outside so we are going to be fine.” The thirty year old planes performed flawlessly and I decided that I want one of my own.
Our next trip is to Bethel for the Regional Cross Country Meet. The scenery will not be as pretty but at least it’ll be new.
I have been practicing with my team so that I can get into better physical condition and maybe even lose some weight. At yesterday’s practice we were in the gym because of the weather and part of the workout involved balls. Somehow, I twisted wrong and pulled a muscle in my lower back so today I’m gimping around like an old man. On the bright side, I hurt my back in Alaska and I’ll heal in Alaska and that’s all I need. If I had a few trees to look at, I would be in sore-back heaven.
This is interesting… There was a community feast last night. It was to celebrate someone’s birthday. They invite the whole community without exception. One of my runners invited me personally so I would be sure to show up. She remembered that I did not go to one last month because I am shy and I didn’t want to impose on folks that I did not know. (Yes, I am shy!)
When I arrived the house was packed full of people from two other villages and every kid in town. I was welcomed warmly by the family, many of whom I had met before at school functions. And a couple of my neighbors were there too. On the offering was swan (the turkey of the north), duck, and moose ribs; akutaq and other stuff that I had never seen before. I, somehow, ended up with a kid’s plate of Rice-A-Roni, jello, and cake. The lady who served me likes to kid around with me so I think she played on my ignorance of their etiquette so she could have a chuckle. I’m fine with that, because I got to spend some time with nice people outside of the school and I didn’t have to cook or wash dishes. Besides, the food she gave me tasted very good.
I couldn’t help but to notice how many religious icons and family photographs were on display. It seemed like certain walls were devoted to one subject or the other. It is well known that I don’t know much about the Yup’ik people so it shouldn’t be a shock that was amazed at some of the pictures. There were kids and grandkids and grandmas and so on. That’s not the shocking part. I saw pictures of people that I thought were from other families on the walls. Then it hit me. Grandparents, aunts and uncle, and distant relatives will adopt kids for various reasons and raise them as their own. In these small communities of a few hundred, most people are related somehow anyway, so why not take in kids if needed? However, it has changed the way I see my students.
14 September 2007
Staying Busy
It has been quite a while since I last wrote anything. Between planning lessons and coaching cross country, I have not had time to do much of anything.
My recent trip to Goodnews Bay was very nice. They don’t have trees either, but the mountains and the Bering Sea were wonderful. I would love to live and teach there but the people who go there, stay there. Across the bay is the small village of Platinum. We have a school there but it’s closed. There was once a Platinum Mine there but it has been closed for quite a while. When the mine closed all but the heartiest of the citizens left too. Someone is building a fish processing plant there that will operate in the summer. If that brings in enough full time residents to warrant the reopening of the school, I’ll be first in line with my resume’ in hand.
Our mode of transportation to and from Goodnews Bay was in Cessna 207s. The weather was extremely rough. So rough that there was talk about us being “weathered – in” and staying until the storm passed. After seeing the first plane I was a little nervous anyhow. The ceiling panel was being help up by duct tape. I thought to myself “There’s no duct tape on the outside so we are going to be fine.” The thirty year old planes performed flawlessly and I decided that I want one of my own.
Our next trip is to Bethel for the Regional Cross Country Meet. The scenery will not be as pretty but at least it’ll be new.
I have been practicing with my team so that I can get into better physical condition and maybe even lose some weight. At yesterday’s practice we were in the gym because of the weather and part of the workout involved balls. Somehow, I twisted wrong and pulled a muscle in my lower back so today I’m gimping around like an old man. On the bright side, I hurt my back in Alaska and I’ll heal in Alaska and that’s all I need. If I had a few trees to look at, I would be in sore-back heaven.
This is interesting… There was a community feast last night. It was to celebrate someone’s birthday. They invite the whole community without exception. One of my runners invited me personally so I would be sure to show up. She remembered that I did not go to one last month because I am shy and I didn’t want to impose on folks that I did not know. (Yes, I am shy!)
When I arrived the house was packed full of people from two other villages and every kid in town. I was welcomed warmly by the family, many of whom I had met before at school functions. And a couple of my neighbors were there too. On the offering was swan (the turkey of the north), duck, and moose ribs; akutaq and other stuff that I had never seen before. I, somehow, ended up with a kid’s plate of Rice-A-Roni, jello, and cake. The lady who served me likes to kid around with me so I think she played on my ignorance of their etiquette so she could have a chuckle. I’m fine with that, because I got to spend some time with nice people outside of the school and I didn’t have to cook or wash dishes. Besides, the food she gave me tasted very good.
I couldn’t help but to notice how many religious icons and family photographs were on display. It seemed like certain walls were devoted to one subject or the other. It is well known that I don’t know much about the Yup’ik people so it shouldn’t be a shock that was amazed at some of the pictures. There were kids and grandkids and grandmas and so on. That’s not the shocking part. I saw pictures of people that I thought were from other families on the walls. Then it hit me. Grandparents, aunts and uncle, and distant relatives will adopt kids for various reasons and raise them as their own. In these small communities of a few hundred, most people are related somehow anyway, so why not take in kids if needed? However, it has changed the way I see my students.
Monday, September 3, 2007
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Berry Picking
So now I’m confused. I have a couple of kids that are down right bad in the classroom but, when we are out of the classroom they are my best buddies. What gives? It is like a Jekyll and Hyde thing. When I spoke to their parents, no one mentioned multiple personalities. As I reflect on the week over all, I think this week was slightly better than last. If the weeks continue to get better, they might become tolerable, and I may even begin to like being a teacher. It will never be as good as working for Jackie at Ball State, but I can always hope.
One of the high points of the week was going berry picking on Thursday afternoon during Yup’ik time. Since we live on the tundra, we only had to go a little way to find berries. We picked Blueberries, Low-bush Cranberries, and Blackberries. I think the English name for the Blackberries is Crowberries, but I can’t swear to it. None of these berries grow on much of a bush. They sprawl out through the Lichens and seldom get more than a few inches above the ground, so you have to good at squatting or kneeling. I also picked some herbs that they use in tea. The herbs, I carried in my shirt pocket instead of my pail.
Anytime you get kids, big and small, outdoors picking berries, berries will get thrown. As usual, I was the target. Not me as much as the pocket of my white shirt in which I stored the herbs for my tea. I didn’t notice any going in my pocket when we picking or when we go back. Upon returning from berry picking we went directly to the gym for P.E. We played a feisty game of Dodge ball and worked up quite a sweat. One of the kids alerted me to a suspicious color change in my shirt pocket. It was a Blueberry!
I washed the white shirt that had the berry stain on the pocket and the stain didn’t come out. I have decided to go out and pick more berries and make the whole shirt one color; Blueberry. I know this is extreme, but the shirt is ruined anyhow so what the heck… I might as well go for broke. Wish me luck.
On the way back to school, Olinka showed me a root that they used to eat. It is some kind of grass that looks like dwarf cattails but with no fuzzy end. I had a heck of a time getting them out of the ground at first. You have to root your fingers around in the peat kind of deep and grab it tight so you can wrestle the whole thing out without breaking the good part off. The flavor was kind of like potato, which is another reason I thought of cattails. Olinka said there is another plant that looks like this one but isn’t good to eat. The mention of that plant made me think of Iris; because they look like cattails but are not edible.
Last night, Olinka made berry muffins and berry jam from the berries that the kids picked and gave it to them for their morning snack. [Yes, just like Kindergarten in your schools, our 3rd, 4th, and 5th Graders get a morning snack.] I don’t know if all three varieties of berry were in the muffins, but they were good and the same goes for the jam. Inspired by Olinka’s selfless and tasty act, I separated my berries and put the Blueberries in pancake mix and made pancakes for supper. It was simple, yet just a little naughty. Not quite a masterpiece but, darn good.
I volunteered to be the Cross Country coach. I have 11 athletes which range from 6th Grade through 10th Grade. The girls greatly outnumber the boy 8 to 3, but the boys are way faster than the girls. My three boys are solid runners. They are long, lean, live right, and they love to run. I have three girls who like to run and they are fast. The rest of the team needed something to do so they joined Cross Country. I’m okay with joining because you are bored. They are getting some good exercise, learning about themselves, and they get to travel a little. If we win something, great! If we try our best and don’t quit; best! We do not get to travel this weekend but, we will be going to Goodnews Bay, on the coast, next weekend. The kids and I are really looking forward to the trip. I am told that Goodnews Bay is mountainous and beautiful. This will be especially nice because all I have seen for a solid month is tundra.
As you all know, I am fat and out of shape. So, I have been running with the team during practice. It feels good to get some exercise and burn some calories. When I look in the mirror now, my gut is in the same picture as the rest of my body. On the first day I hurt myself though. I was determined to beat this little girl during sprints and I felt my leg muscle tear. I babied it for a couple of days and I’m running on it again. I know, I know, stretch more because you’re getting older. I heard it all from the kids and the teachers and the villagers. That’s the trouble with being in a small town; everybody knows when you do something dumb.
We were without water again yesterday. It was only 24 hours this time but, it was the 4th time this month. I am really curious to see the machines that process our water to learn what the weak link is in the system. I signed my lease yesterday and for the price that I am paying for my apartment, I can’t complain. My rent is very cheap and since it is forced housing I can deduct it from my taxes. SWEET!!!
It is now September 1st and we are supposed to enjoy the long weekend. For me it means it to work on getting my reading program working properly and getting my writing program working period. So, that’s what I’m going to do. Good bye for now.
One of the high points of the week was going berry picking on Thursday afternoon during Yup’ik time. Since we live on the tundra, we only had to go a little way to find berries. We picked Blueberries, Low-bush Cranberries, and Blackberries. I think the English name for the Blackberries is Crowberries, but I can’t swear to it. None of these berries grow on much of a bush. They sprawl out through the Lichens and seldom get more than a few inches above the ground, so you have to good at squatting or kneeling. I also picked some herbs that they use in tea. The herbs, I carried in my shirt pocket instead of my pail.
Anytime you get kids, big and small, outdoors picking berries, berries will get thrown. As usual, I was the target. Not me as much as the pocket of my white shirt in which I stored the herbs for my tea. I didn’t notice any going in my pocket when we picking or when we go back. Upon returning from berry picking we went directly to the gym for P.E. We played a feisty game of Dodge ball and worked up quite a sweat. One of the kids alerted me to a suspicious color change in my shirt pocket. It was a Blueberry!
I washed the white shirt that had the berry stain on the pocket and the stain didn’t come out. I have decided to go out and pick more berries and make the whole shirt one color; Blueberry. I know this is extreme, but the shirt is ruined anyhow so what the heck… I might as well go for broke. Wish me luck.
On the way back to school, Olinka showed me a root that they used to eat. It is some kind of grass that looks like dwarf cattails but with no fuzzy end. I had a heck of a time getting them out of the ground at first. You have to root your fingers around in the peat kind of deep and grab it tight so you can wrestle the whole thing out without breaking the good part off. The flavor was kind of like potato, which is another reason I thought of cattails. Olinka said there is another plant that looks like this one but isn’t good to eat. The mention of that plant made me think of Iris; because they look like cattails but are not edible.
Last night, Olinka made berry muffins and berry jam from the berries that the kids picked and gave it to them for their morning snack. [Yes, just like Kindergarten in your schools, our 3rd, 4th, and 5th Graders get a morning snack.] I don’t know if all three varieties of berry were in the muffins, but they were good and the same goes for the jam. Inspired by Olinka’s selfless and tasty act, I separated my berries and put the Blueberries in pancake mix and made pancakes for supper. It was simple, yet just a little naughty. Not quite a masterpiece but, darn good.
I volunteered to be the Cross Country coach. I have 11 athletes which range from 6th Grade through 10th Grade. The girls greatly outnumber the boy 8 to 3, but the boys are way faster than the girls. My three boys are solid runners. They are long, lean, live right, and they love to run. I have three girls who like to run and they are fast. The rest of the team needed something to do so they joined Cross Country. I’m okay with joining because you are bored. They are getting some good exercise, learning about themselves, and they get to travel a little. If we win something, great! If we try our best and don’t quit; best! We do not get to travel this weekend but, we will be going to Goodnews Bay, on the coast, next weekend. The kids and I are really looking forward to the trip. I am told that Goodnews Bay is mountainous and beautiful. This will be especially nice because all I have seen for a solid month is tundra.
As you all know, I am fat and out of shape. So, I have been running with the team during practice. It feels good to get some exercise and burn some calories. When I look in the mirror now, my gut is in the same picture as the rest of my body. On the first day I hurt myself though. I was determined to beat this little girl during sprints and I felt my leg muscle tear. I babied it for a couple of days and I’m running on it again. I know, I know, stretch more because you’re getting older. I heard it all from the kids and the teachers and the villagers. That’s the trouble with being in a small town; everybody knows when you do something dumb.
We were without water again yesterday. It was only 24 hours this time but, it was the 4th time this month. I am really curious to see the machines that process our water to learn what the weak link is in the system. I signed my lease yesterday and for the price that I am paying for my apartment, I can’t complain. My rent is very cheap and since it is forced housing I can deduct it from my taxes. SWEET!!!
It is now September 1st and we are supposed to enjoy the long weekend. For me it means it to work on getting my reading program working properly and getting my writing program working period. So, that’s what I’m going to do. Good bye for now.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Thank God for Weekends
The week of August 20th was like some kind of crazy “hell week” with 9, 10, and 11 year olds doing the hazing. By Wednesday night I was sick of being a teacher and the thought of buying a plane ticket buzzed through my head. Bright and early Thursday morning I changed their world. They usually like to start trickling into the classroom about 8:00 a.m. after breakfast. Not today boys and girls! I kept the door closed and turned on only the lights that I needed to do my preparation work. When they opened the door, I said “stay out until I invite you in” and they knew that something was different. Class begins at 8:45 so at 8:35 I invited into the classroom. Instead of unstructured play time, (which they have none of during the day) I had desk work for them to do. They entered the classroom quietly and went to their desks. I introduced the busy work to them and they began. We have no bells so at 8:45 I told them to hand in their work and you should have seen their faces. The ones who chose to goof off during their work time began to plead for just a few more minutes. I refused and collected the work. We stood and did the pledge of allegiance, then I handed the work back to them and we discussed each item. The kids that were goofing off before were no longer goofing. They got busy and copied everything that was said. I remained emotionless for the rest of the day and through Friday.
By Friday night I was ready to kick back and party. I decided to whoop-it-up by going to the store and buying something I didn’t need. I bought some Olive Oil and Pringles. My party lasted fifteen minutes and I was at home again. I sure wanted a beer or something stronger to help me unwind. Keep in mind that we are in a dry community and any form of alcohol is strictly forbidden. I was wound tighter than a three-day clock and I had no idea what I was going to do.
Just then someone knocked at the door. My neighbor Virginia wanted to know if I would like to buy some of her excess perishable produce. One of the things she mentioned on her list of fresh goodies was garlic. It just so happens that I had been without any garlic since I left home and I sure wanted some. I ransacked her pantry to the tune of $6.00, including the appropriate shipping fees and stayed for tea. She had another treat for me… toast. Since her husband, Moses is a man who loves his toast and I have been without toast since I left home, we enjoyed honeyed toast with our tea. While we visited we kept hearing this horrible racket outside, but we couldn’t see the source.
When I left the neighbor’s house, I walked outside to investigate the noise. It was our principal, Larry cutting the tops out of 55 gallon drums with a Sawz-All. He was working on a solution to our cable TV problem. Curious and bored, I volunteered to help him. His plan was to put the post that would hold the 6 foot satellite dish in a barrel and set it with gravel. Then put more barrels around that one to keep it from tipping in the wind. It sounded good to me so we made some more cuts and took the four-wheeler and trailer with the barrels to fill them. After we filled the first barrel with gravel, we noticed that the high flotation tires on the trailer were quite squat and that we should curb our enthusiasm to fill the other barrels until later. We came home with one barrel and a lazy-man’s solution for getting it to the proper location for good reception. We decided to drive the rig over the surface laid fuel pipes and across the tundra muck and end up in the right place. That seemed a much better idea than emptying the dirt and carrying it over a bunch of stuff and more muck. After a quick prayer, Larry gave ‘er hell and aimed it true. IT WORKED! He only almost got stuck. We wrestled the barrel off of the trailer and got it into position. By then it was already 10:30 p.m. and we were just getting started. It didn’t take long for both of us to agree that we would quit for the night. Bruce, a fellow teacher, and I filled two more barrels over the weekend but we are still a long way from watching TV.
At our Friday staff meeting, Larry introduced an idea to save the school money and provide the students with some lunches more in keeping with their traditional food. He suggested catching salmon and using them for lunches. Everyone thought it was a great idea. It falls within the subsistence fishing laws and the Silver Salmon were still running. Besides, the school owns nets for the native education program and they were dry. The Yup’ik teachers knew just the man for the job; Joe. Joe is one of our janitors. He is a hard working quiet man with an unassuming demeanor.
I volunteered to help Joe and to help clean whatever was caught. The other new teachers volunteered to help as well. I waited until midnight on Friday to hear if I could go fishing with Joe. I woke early anticipating a knock on the door; but, just like Christmas, Santa never came; maybe next time.
Joe caught 16 silvers at the place where the Johnson River flows into the Kuskokwim River. He went alone and didn’t get home until 10:30 Saturday night. Sunday afternoon I rounded up the teachers and we went to the school’s kitchen for a fish cleaning party. One of the Yup’ik teachers, Olinka had some time so she came over to help. Help heck, Olinka is a one woman fish cleaning crew. Of the new teachers, I was the only one who had ever filleted a fish before. I hadn’t done it in better than twenty years, but at least I have done it. Our knife selection was pretty poor. We had some dull boning knives and a dull Ulu which Olinka snatched immediately. We hit the knives with the steel a few times, but it did little in the way of sharpening. I filleted a couple fish then I watched Olinka work her magic. I noticed that she left a lot more meat on the carcass than I do. As I am not one to pass up a learning opportunity, I asked “why do you leave so much meat on the bones? She simply said “You gotta leave somthin’ for da soup.” DING, DING, DING, Jerry, fish soup… hello. I have eaten fish soup and the fish came from somewhere… off the bones. I also learned that Larry saved the guts and head when he field dressed them on Saturday night. I talked about the cooked fish heads before; remember? I think we will be having more of them in the future.
The salmon skeletons were divvied up between those who wanted them so I took a few. I wasn’t really sure what I was going to do with them, but I had them none the less. I also had a few nice salmon steaks that were from the pectoral fin region of the fish. I cut the skeletons and fins down to soup pot size and put them on low heat. Then, I fried the pure meat that I was hoarding for myself. I ended up with a plate FULL of perfectly golden crisp salmon. I feasted! The bones simmered and I ate. Salmon is a rich meat so I may have eaten a third of that plate full. Stuffed to the gills, (< ha, ha, that was a pun) I put the rest in the soup pot.
I put the cooked salmon in the refrigerator to cool over night. Later Monday night, I picked all of the skin and bones and fins out of the meat and stock and then I thought about making some soup. When I was a little boy at my Grandpa’s Deer Camp in Dublin, Michigan, I took an ass whipping because I wouldn’t eat the Salmon Soup that my Grandmother, Dorothy White lovingly prepared for us. I’m sure it was a fine soup but this six year old boy thought that it smelled bad and therefore, it must be bad. This memory popped into my head as I started to make my fish soup. The thing that killed me about Grandma’s soup was the milk or cream; like you would use in chowder. I quickly decided against chowder. I decided on boring simple ingredients like potatoes, carrots, and, of course, garlic. Using my Food Network culinary skills, I dumped the ingredient in the pot. Put it over low heat and went for a walk around the village. When I returned home it was ready to eat. Now, you can ask my wife and kids and they’ll tell you that I CAN COOK. Sometimes I even stumble over a masterpiece. This soup was one of those times. In fact, it turned out so well that I had it for two meals and froze four quarts for later. Sadly, the only people to enjoy it was King Jerry the Magnificent (me) and me. I can't promise that there will be any when Pam comes up in December but, if she's lucky she'll get some.
I’m sorry that I have blabbed for so long about so little. Thanks for sticking with me. To my friends at Ball State, I miss you and I wish you were here. To my family, I miss you and I wish you were here. To anyone reading this that I don’t know; you should spend your time better, get a job or a hobby.
By Friday night I was ready to kick back and party. I decided to whoop-it-up by going to the store and buying something I didn’t need. I bought some Olive Oil and Pringles. My party lasted fifteen minutes and I was at home again. I sure wanted a beer or something stronger to help me unwind. Keep in mind that we are in a dry community and any form of alcohol is strictly forbidden. I was wound tighter than a three-day clock and I had no idea what I was going to do.
Just then someone knocked at the door. My neighbor Virginia wanted to know if I would like to buy some of her excess perishable produce. One of the things she mentioned on her list of fresh goodies was garlic. It just so happens that I had been without any garlic since I left home and I sure wanted some. I ransacked her pantry to the tune of $6.00, including the appropriate shipping fees and stayed for tea. She had another treat for me… toast. Since her husband, Moses is a man who loves his toast and I have been without toast since I left home, we enjoyed honeyed toast with our tea. While we visited we kept hearing this horrible racket outside, but we couldn’t see the source.
When I left the neighbor’s house, I walked outside to investigate the noise. It was our principal, Larry cutting the tops out of 55 gallon drums with a Sawz-All. He was working on a solution to our cable TV problem. Curious and bored, I volunteered to help him. His plan was to put the post that would hold the 6 foot satellite dish in a barrel and set it with gravel. Then put more barrels around that one to keep it from tipping in the wind. It sounded good to me so we made some more cuts and took the four-wheeler and trailer with the barrels to fill them. After we filled the first barrel with gravel, we noticed that the high flotation tires on the trailer were quite squat and that we should curb our enthusiasm to fill the other barrels until later. We came home with one barrel and a lazy-man’s solution for getting it to the proper location for good reception. We decided to drive the rig over the surface laid fuel pipes and across the tundra muck and end up in the right place. That seemed a much better idea than emptying the dirt and carrying it over a bunch of stuff and more muck. After a quick prayer, Larry gave ‘er hell and aimed it true. IT WORKED! He only almost got stuck. We wrestled the barrel off of the trailer and got it into position. By then it was already 10:30 p.m. and we were just getting started. It didn’t take long for both of us to agree that we would quit for the night. Bruce, a fellow teacher, and I filled two more barrels over the weekend but we are still a long way from watching TV.
At our Friday staff meeting, Larry introduced an idea to save the school money and provide the students with some lunches more in keeping with their traditional food. He suggested catching salmon and using them for lunches. Everyone thought it was a great idea. It falls within the subsistence fishing laws and the Silver Salmon were still running. Besides, the school owns nets for the native education program and they were dry. The Yup’ik teachers knew just the man for the job; Joe. Joe is one of our janitors. He is a hard working quiet man with an unassuming demeanor.
I volunteered to help Joe and to help clean whatever was caught. The other new teachers volunteered to help as well. I waited until midnight on Friday to hear if I could go fishing with Joe. I woke early anticipating a knock on the door; but, just like Christmas, Santa never came; maybe next time.
Joe caught 16 silvers at the place where the Johnson River flows into the Kuskokwim River. He went alone and didn’t get home until 10:30 Saturday night. Sunday afternoon I rounded up the teachers and we went to the school’s kitchen for a fish cleaning party. One of the Yup’ik teachers, Olinka had some time so she came over to help. Help heck, Olinka is a one woman fish cleaning crew. Of the new teachers, I was the only one who had ever filleted a fish before. I hadn’t done it in better than twenty years, but at least I have done it. Our knife selection was pretty poor. We had some dull boning knives and a dull Ulu which Olinka snatched immediately. We hit the knives with the steel a few times, but it did little in the way of sharpening. I filleted a couple fish then I watched Olinka work her magic. I noticed that she left a lot more meat on the carcass than I do. As I am not one to pass up a learning opportunity, I asked “why do you leave so much meat on the bones? She simply said “You gotta leave somthin’ for da soup.” DING, DING, DING, Jerry, fish soup… hello. I have eaten fish soup and the fish came from somewhere… off the bones. I also learned that Larry saved the guts and head when he field dressed them on Saturday night. I talked about the cooked fish heads before; remember? I think we will be having more of them in the future.
The salmon skeletons were divvied up between those who wanted them so I took a few. I wasn’t really sure what I was going to do with them, but I had them none the less. I also had a few nice salmon steaks that were from the pectoral fin region of the fish. I cut the skeletons and fins down to soup pot size and put them on low heat. Then, I fried the pure meat that I was hoarding for myself. I ended up with a plate FULL of perfectly golden crisp salmon. I feasted! The bones simmered and I ate. Salmon is a rich meat so I may have eaten a third of that plate full. Stuffed to the gills, (< ha, ha, that was a pun) I put the rest in the soup pot.
I put the cooked salmon in the refrigerator to cool over night. Later Monday night, I picked all of the skin and bones and fins out of the meat and stock and then I thought about making some soup. When I was a little boy at my Grandpa’s Deer Camp in Dublin, Michigan, I took an ass whipping because I wouldn’t eat the Salmon Soup that my Grandmother, Dorothy White lovingly prepared for us. I’m sure it was a fine soup but this six year old boy thought that it smelled bad and therefore, it must be bad. This memory popped into my head as I started to make my fish soup. The thing that killed me about Grandma’s soup was the milk or cream; like you would use in chowder. I quickly decided against chowder. I decided on boring simple ingredients like potatoes, carrots, and, of course, garlic. Using my Food Network culinary skills, I dumped the ingredient in the pot. Put it over low heat and went for a walk around the village. When I returned home it was ready to eat. Now, you can ask my wife and kids and they’ll tell you that I CAN COOK. Sometimes I even stumble over a masterpiece. This soup was one of those times. In fact, it turned out so well that I had it for two meals and froze four quarts for later. Sadly, the only people to enjoy it was King Jerry the Magnificent (me) and me. I can't promise that there will be any when Pam comes up in December but, if she's lucky she'll get some.
I’m sorry that I have blabbed for so long about so little. Thanks for sticking with me. To my friends at Ball State, I miss you and I wish you were here. To my family, I miss you and I wish you were here. To anyone reading this that I don’t know; you should spend your time better, get a job or a hobby.
Monday, August 20, 2007
The Day before D – Day
Much has happened since my last entry. I returned to Atmautluak the evening of the 10th of August; to late to see if my boxes from home had arrived. First thing Saturday morning I was at the Post Office waiting for the Postmaster to open the door. I felt like a little kid waiting for mom and dad to get out of bed on Christmas morning.
I followed her inside and she said “I can’t remember; what’s your name?” I thought, is she pulling my leg or does she really not remember? There are only three new people in the village. How hard can it be to remember the only white guy in town? Anyhow, I told her and she began looking.
She started handing out box after box after box and one large envelope. There were so many boxes that I had to go to the school and get a hand cart to move them all; even then it too three trips. It was like Christmas morning. I never thought that getting boxes of your own stuff that you packed could be so much fun.
As I opened each box and put each item away, I wondered what I was thinking when I packed this stuff. For example, the box of blankets and books held no joy for me after it was emptied.
I was surprised by the envelope that I received, however. My daughter in law, Brooke, wrote me a nice letter and made some cards with photographs for me to hang in my home. I would like to go now public record, here and now, and proclaim to the world and everyone in it that I love Brooke. I failed to make that clear before I left home and if I should die in a fiery plane crash tomorrow Brooke can now rest assured that she is loved by me. Thank you Brooke, for the nice letter and the pictures; I have hanging on my refrigerator like a good grandpa should.
I left home a week early so I could move all of my books and furniture into my new classroom before I went off for training. My plan was to be settled in so I could focus on writing lesson plans and then be ready to teach on the 20th. That plan was flawed from the start. When I arrived, no one on site knew which classrooms were assigned to whom. I couldn’t move anything. My boss arrived the evening of the 14th and we had district level training all day on the 15th. You guessed it, nothing got moved. Finally on Thursday, the 16th, we started moving everything for all four classrooms all at once. What a nightmare that was! At the same time, two ladies from the district office arrived to provide the new teacher with some help on the education system that we use. What they did mostly was help me unpack and start setting up my classroom. We worked until 10:30 that night. I was back at it at around 8:15 a.m. unpacking boxes and trying to figure out what I had.
This was also the first day of our two day carnival. It was nice to see all of the people from the village and some from other villages coming for the party. There were games for the kids, food vendors, junk vendors, and they raffled off a four wheeler. They had been planning a basketball tournament but not enough teams entered so they had a dance instead.
The two stores in the village both got shipments of supplies on that Friday. I did a little shopping and was surprised at how varied the prices are. Eggs were just under $3.00 per dozen but milk was over $3.00 per quart (yes, I said quart). Bread was 2 loaves for just under $6.00. So prices were not as bad as I thought they would be over all.
Since then I have been eating hamburgers and hotdogs and Chili Cheese Fritos. Before this shopping trip, then fresh food I had in the house was a bag of onions. I learned that when I like the food I’m eating, I tend to want to over eat. I guess I’ll go back to sardines and wheat crackers.
I woke up Sunday morning to no water in the house. Luckily, I keep water in the refrigerator so I was able to brush my teeth. My boss told me that it would be at least two more days before we get water. They have to fly the part in from Anchorage, install the part, fill the holding tank and administer the chemical dose. Then the chemicals have to settle before they can allow the people to consume the water. Great! No shower for the first day of class. At least I’m not alone.
By the way, I know what you’re thinking; “quit bitchin’ Jerry, you’re the one how wanted to go there.” You’re right, and a crummy day in Alaska is better than any day in Indiana. On that note, I will say good night.
I followed her inside and she said “I can’t remember; what’s your name?” I thought, is she pulling my leg or does she really not remember? There are only three new people in the village. How hard can it be to remember the only white guy in town? Anyhow, I told her and she began looking.
She started handing out box after box after box and one large envelope. There were so many boxes that I had to go to the school and get a hand cart to move them all; even then it too three trips. It was like Christmas morning. I never thought that getting boxes of your own stuff that you packed could be so much fun.
As I opened each box and put each item away, I wondered what I was thinking when I packed this stuff. For example, the box of blankets and books held no joy for me after it was emptied.
I was surprised by the envelope that I received, however. My daughter in law, Brooke, wrote me a nice letter and made some cards with photographs for me to hang in my home. I would like to go now public record, here and now, and proclaim to the world and everyone in it that I love Brooke. I failed to make that clear before I left home and if I should die in a fiery plane crash tomorrow Brooke can now rest assured that she is loved by me. Thank you Brooke, for the nice letter and the pictures; I have hanging on my refrigerator like a good grandpa should.
I left home a week early so I could move all of my books and furniture into my new classroom before I went off for training. My plan was to be settled in so I could focus on writing lesson plans and then be ready to teach on the 20th. That plan was flawed from the start. When I arrived, no one on site knew which classrooms were assigned to whom. I couldn’t move anything. My boss arrived the evening of the 14th and we had district level training all day on the 15th. You guessed it, nothing got moved. Finally on Thursday, the 16th, we started moving everything for all four classrooms all at once. What a nightmare that was! At the same time, two ladies from the district office arrived to provide the new teacher with some help on the education system that we use. What they did mostly was help me unpack and start setting up my classroom. We worked until 10:30 that night. I was back at it at around 8:15 a.m. unpacking boxes and trying to figure out what I had.
This was also the first day of our two day carnival. It was nice to see all of the people from the village and some from other villages coming for the party. There were games for the kids, food vendors, junk vendors, and they raffled off a four wheeler. They had been planning a basketball tournament but not enough teams entered so they had a dance instead.
The two stores in the village both got shipments of supplies on that Friday. I did a little shopping and was surprised at how varied the prices are. Eggs were just under $3.00 per dozen but milk was over $3.00 per quart (yes, I said quart). Bread was 2 loaves for just under $6.00. So prices were not as bad as I thought they would be over all.
Since then I have been eating hamburgers and hotdogs and Chili Cheese Fritos. Before this shopping trip, then fresh food I had in the house was a bag of onions. I learned that when I like the food I’m eating, I tend to want to over eat. I guess I’ll go back to sardines and wheat crackers.
I woke up Sunday morning to no water in the house. Luckily, I keep water in the refrigerator so I was able to brush my teeth. My boss told me that it would be at least two more days before we get water. They have to fly the part in from Anchorage, install the part, fill the holding tank and administer the chemical dose. Then the chemicals have to settle before they can allow the people to consume the water. Great! No shower for the first day of class. At least I’m not alone.
By the way, I know what you’re thinking; “quit bitchin’ Jerry, you’re the one how wanted to go there.” You’re right, and a crummy day in Alaska is better than any day in Indiana. On that note, I will say good night.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Yup'ik Culture Days
I have been waiting for today’s events ever since I decided to come here. Today we learn about the history and foundations of the Yup’ik. The agenda says that tonight we will enjoy a Yup’ik potluck and tomorrow we learn from an elder. But first, we have to suffer through classes.
The classes on the development and implementation of the Yup’ik curriculum were interesting but not so much fun. The best part about the whole program is that it was and is a Yup’ik product. It meets all of the requirements of the state bureaucracy while serving the cultural needs of the people. Most of the career staff at the district level has stayed because of the Yup’ik program. I heard it said that this school district does more to preserve and promote the indigenous culture than any other in Alaska. Does that mean that the Yup’ik people have won the war against cultural genocide? Not yet, but I’ll talk about that another day.
In the afternoon we watched a historical documentary called We of the River. It too is a native product that was co-sponsored by the Lower Kuskokwim School District and is a good video history of the Yup’iks from before the time of the Moravians, in 1884, until about the 1960s or 70s. I will buy a copy of this documentary for myself because it shows the people being themselves, as much as a movie can. The movie also gave purpose to the traditional dishes that we were going to sample at the potluck.
The moment we have all been waiting for, the potluck, was finally here. This was a spread fit for a king. There was Moose Soup and Moose Stew, Dried Salmon and Smoked Salmon, Salmon Fillets and Salmon Strips, Salted Salmon Eggs and Boiled Salmon Heads, and yes there was maktaq (whale skin and blubber). We ate Whitefish and Blackfish and Dried Pike and two kinds of Akutaq (AH-koo-TOK). We were served homemade jellies that were made from this season’s Salmon Berries and last season’s Blue Berries, Fry Bread and some things that I don’t have a description for. I loved something about each dish, even the fish eggs. I couldn’t help going back for seconds on some of the items because they were so good. I will be living well if I can keep eating like an Eskimo.
On Thursday, we had more culture lessons in the big room in the Cultural Center, but this time we moved the tables out of the way and put our chairs in a semi-circle so we could all be close to our honored guest speaker. His name is Peter Jacobs and he is a Yup’ik Elder. I would guess his height to be four feet six inches and his weight to be 90 pounds but, he spoke like a giant. His vigor and enthusiasm, at times, had me wondering if he really was 83 years old as he said during his introduction. Peter doesn’t speak much English so he used an interpreter to get his message to us. The stories that he told us about the old days were very similar to those that Katie told us a couple of days earlier. Like Katie, Peter is happy that we are here but at the same time wanted us to know that their journey to become Cussuk-like has been a painful one. The teachers during those early days, as we know, were abusive and didn’t want the scholars speaking in their savage language. The penalty for doing so was stiff and carried out without mercy. Peter’s message was honest and therefore, complicated, but we all got the point; be a good person first and a teacher second. He spent the best part of the day with us and it was time well spent. Peter told us that every elder has a specialty; one thing in which they are experts. In order to learn everything Yup’ik, you must visit many, many elders to learn their expertise. He then brought out a tote bag and from it he pulled some tools that his father had willed to him. He had three knives, all had a small blade that curved to the left and a handler made of Caribou antler. Each knife was a different size for different jobs. Peter demonstrated how the knives were used to carve serving spoons, bowls, and the sticks for holding fish open in the smoker. The sticks were split from straight grained wood by using the antler handle first like wedge and then like a froe (froe? look it up). He also had a couple of hand adzes that he used for roughing in the work. I hope to be able to learn more from Peter very soon.
The Yup’ik instructors taught us the story of the Floating Drum and the dance that was developed from that story. Did we have to do the dance? Yes, we did. We did the dance six or eight times for Peter and he laughed his head off the whole time. He also praised us for our efforts and encouraged us to dance with our village when we get home.
I first saw Yup’ik dancing on the website of the Yup’ik Cultural Center. They put the dance competitions on the site from each CAMA’I (chama-I) festival. Many of the villages have teams in the festival but, sadly, some of the villages do not have dance teams. Atmautluak does have a dance team and they are quite popular, as I hear it, for their contemporary flair on traditional dance.
I learned something totally new. I was always led to believe that the Eskimo people were generally not a warlike people. This is not true. At some point in history, they fought bloody battles to drive the Athabascans away from the coastal areas. In doing so, they earned the name Eskimo or “Raw Meat Eater” from their Athabascan enemies. They are quite proud to be known as Eskimos so referring to them as such is not an insult, but an affirmation of who they are. I will research these battles and tell you more when I have good information on the subject. You could also research this and tell me; I would like that.
I should mention the manner in which the Yup’ik instructors and Peter opened and closed the day’s lesson. The instructors consisted of Nita, Fanny, and Rachael; all three are Yup’ik Eskimos and highly educated educators that have taught in the villages. Peter Jacobs, as I mentioned earlier is the venerated elder and guest speaker. Peter, the eldest, led the group into the room and we all rose to our feet as they entered. The ladies followed him in an order that appeared to be by age, though I don’t want to presume too much. One of the ladies beat a rhythm on the traditional drum as the group entered. Peter carried a metal dish with some kind of herbs in it. Once they were in front of the class they lit the herbs on fire and crushed the flames so the herbs would smolder and smoke. Peter used a bird wing to move the smoke over himself like a ceremonial smoke bath. He then carried the dish of smoking herbs in front of the students and fanned the smoke over us and then he did the same for the instructors. The smoke is to drive bad spirits away from the gathering of people. Then Peter led us in a Christian prayer spoken in Yup’ik. I know it was Christian of some type because it ended with “Jesus Christo, Amen.” When we finished our day Peter led us in a similar prayer so that we part ways as blessed people. I appreciate the way some of these folks have kept their traditional belief structures intact while adopting the new religion. It is a shame that the new religion is not as tolerant as their own religion seems to be.
Since then, not much happened that is too exciting so I’ll say farewell for now. Thank you for your comments and please keep them coming. If you have a specific question, I’ll try to answer it directly to you so be sure I have your email address. One last thing; I am sick of apologizing for my lack of pictures but I promise to get some photos on this blog next week if it kills me. Until then, best wishes.
The classes on the development and implementation of the Yup’ik curriculum were interesting but not so much fun. The best part about the whole program is that it was and is a Yup’ik product. It meets all of the requirements of the state bureaucracy while serving the cultural needs of the people. Most of the career staff at the district level has stayed because of the Yup’ik program. I heard it said that this school district does more to preserve and promote the indigenous culture than any other in Alaska. Does that mean that the Yup’ik people have won the war against cultural genocide? Not yet, but I’ll talk about that another day.
In the afternoon we watched a historical documentary called We of the River. It too is a native product that was co-sponsored by the Lower Kuskokwim School District and is a good video history of the Yup’iks from before the time of the Moravians, in 1884, until about the 1960s or 70s. I will buy a copy of this documentary for myself because it shows the people being themselves, as much as a movie can. The movie also gave purpose to the traditional dishes that we were going to sample at the potluck.
The moment we have all been waiting for, the potluck, was finally here. This was a spread fit for a king. There was Moose Soup and Moose Stew, Dried Salmon and Smoked Salmon, Salmon Fillets and Salmon Strips, Salted Salmon Eggs and Boiled Salmon Heads, and yes there was maktaq (whale skin and blubber). We ate Whitefish and Blackfish and Dried Pike and two kinds of Akutaq (AH-koo-TOK). We were served homemade jellies that were made from this season’s Salmon Berries and last season’s Blue Berries, Fry Bread and some things that I don’t have a description for. I loved something about each dish, even the fish eggs. I couldn’t help going back for seconds on some of the items because they were so good. I will be living well if I can keep eating like an Eskimo.
On Thursday, we had more culture lessons in the big room in the Cultural Center, but this time we moved the tables out of the way and put our chairs in a semi-circle so we could all be close to our honored guest speaker. His name is Peter Jacobs and he is a Yup’ik Elder. I would guess his height to be four feet six inches and his weight to be 90 pounds but, he spoke like a giant. His vigor and enthusiasm, at times, had me wondering if he really was 83 years old as he said during his introduction. Peter doesn’t speak much English so he used an interpreter to get his message to us. The stories that he told us about the old days were very similar to those that Katie told us a couple of days earlier. Like Katie, Peter is happy that we are here but at the same time wanted us to know that their journey to become Cussuk-like has been a painful one. The teachers during those early days, as we know, were abusive and didn’t want the scholars speaking in their savage language. The penalty for doing so was stiff and carried out without mercy. Peter’s message was honest and therefore, complicated, but we all got the point; be a good person first and a teacher second. He spent the best part of the day with us and it was time well spent. Peter told us that every elder has a specialty; one thing in which they are experts. In order to learn everything Yup’ik, you must visit many, many elders to learn their expertise. He then brought out a tote bag and from it he pulled some tools that his father had willed to him. He had three knives, all had a small blade that curved to the left and a handler made of Caribou antler. Each knife was a different size for different jobs. Peter demonstrated how the knives were used to carve serving spoons, bowls, and the sticks for holding fish open in the smoker. The sticks were split from straight grained wood by using the antler handle first like wedge and then like a froe (froe? look it up). He also had a couple of hand adzes that he used for roughing in the work. I hope to be able to learn more from Peter very soon.
The Yup’ik instructors taught us the story of the Floating Drum and the dance that was developed from that story. Did we have to do the dance? Yes, we did. We did the dance six or eight times for Peter and he laughed his head off the whole time. He also praised us for our efforts and encouraged us to dance with our village when we get home.
I first saw Yup’ik dancing on the website of the Yup’ik Cultural Center. They put the dance competitions on the site from each CAMA’I (chama-I) festival. Many of the villages have teams in the festival but, sadly, some of the villages do not have dance teams. Atmautluak does have a dance team and they are quite popular, as I hear it, for their contemporary flair on traditional dance.
I learned something totally new. I was always led to believe that the Eskimo people were generally not a warlike people. This is not true. At some point in history, they fought bloody battles to drive the Athabascans away from the coastal areas. In doing so, they earned the name Eskimo or “Raw Meat Eater” from their Athabascan enemies. They are quite proud to be known as Eskimos so referring to them as such is not an insult, but an affirmation of who they are. I will research these battles and tell you more when I have good information on the subject. You could also research this and tell me; I would like that.
I should mention the manner in which the Yup’ik instructors and Peter opened and closed the day’s lesson. The instructors consisted of Nita, Fanny, and Rachael; all three are Yup’ik Eskimos and highly educated educators that have taught in the villages. Peter Jacobs, as I mentioned earlier is the venerated elder and guest speaker. Peter, the eldest, led the group into the room and we all rose to our feet as they entered. The ladies followed him in an order that appeared to be by age, though I don’t want to presume too much. One of the ladies beat a rhythm on the traditional drum as the group entered. Peter carried a metal dish with some kind of herbs in it. Once they were in front of the class they lit the herbs on fire and crushed the flames so the herbs would smolder and smoke. Peter used a bird wing to move the smoke over himself like a ceremonial smoke bath. He then carried the dish of smoking herbs in front of the students and fanned the smoke over us and then he did the same for the instructors. The smoke is to drive bad spirits away from the gathering of people. Then Peter led us in a Christian prayer spoken in Yup’ik. I know it was Christian of some type because it ended with “Jesus Christo, Amen.” When we finished our day Peter led us in a similar prayer so that we part ways as blessed people. I appreciate the way some of these folks have kept their traditional belief structures intact while adopting the new religion. It is a shame that the new religion is not as tolerant as their own religion seems to be.
Since then, not much happened that is too exciting so I’ll say farewell for now. Thank you for your comments and please keep them coming. If you have a specific question, I’ll try to answer it directly to you so be sure I have your email address. One last thing; I am sick of apologizing for my lack of pictures but I promise to get some photos on this blog next week if it kills me. Until then, best wishes.
Tea with Katie Albright
“Around” is a word I will have to apply to all aspects of travel in “Bush Alaska.”
The airplane was supposed to arrive around 9:30 a.m., when in fact it arrived at 10:00. It was supposed to have enough seats to accommodate around five passengers from Atmautluak when in fact there were only enough seats for three. The boxes that Pam sent UPS were supposed to be delivered around August 2nd when in fact they are still in the hanger at Arctic Circle Air and will now be delivered around Friday the 10th. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. This is the way it is here and I have to get used to it.
As soon as I arrived in Bethel and found the Dorm where I would be staying, I set out to see the town. Bethel is spread out all over the place. All of the roads that I have seen are dirt and only a few have boardwalks that follow them. Most of the time people walk along the side of the roads. There is a massive project underway to pave the main drag through Bethel which will do much to reduce the mud problem.
After dinner tonight, I mentioned going for a walk and a couple of my fellow teachers thought it was a good idea so we did. Before I continue with this story I should introduce my companions. My next door neighbor in Atmautluak and fellow teacher, Virginia and her husband Moses; Darren, a new teacher from Oregon and I all decided to find the Kuskokwim River to see if there were any big ships at the docks. It is important to note that Moses is a Yup’ik Eskimo from this part of Alaska. As we walked, people would stop to say CAMA’I (chama-I or hello) to Moses. It seemed like Moses had a cousin every quarter mile. Hanging around with this guy is a good way to meet people.
We found the river and the port and though there were no big ships in port, there was plenty to look at. We saw guys loading big barrels of gasoline into their boats to take back to their villages because the price of gas in the village is around $11.00 per gallon. We noticed too that the Kuskokwim River is greatly affected by the tides of the Bearing Sea, which is some 70 miles down stream.
On our way back to the dorm, Virginia spotted a small sign on the side of a house. The sign said “Albright, K.” and nothing else. She said to Moses “Hey Moe, I wonder if that’s your Aunt’s house.” Moses got very excited and they went to the door to ask if this was the home his Great Aunt Katie Albright. It was! The two went inside and immediately Virginia came back out to invite Darren and me inside. Game for anything he and I gladly accepted the invitation and went inside to meet Moses’ family.
Aunt Katie shook our hand and welcomed us warmly. Moses’ cousin David, the man of the house, greeted us and made us feel welcome as well. Darren and I kind of stood around as Moses and Katie chatted in Yup’ik. When it seemed like we were about to leave Katie invited us to stay and have tea. It was obvious that Moses really wanted to stay so he could visit with his aunt and we felt very welcome so we said yes to tea. Katie is 83 years of age and she likes to share her culture with the cussuks (Cossacks or white people) that she meets. After the tea was poured she scurried over the refrigerator and got out a bowl to bring to the table. She said that it is important for us cussuks to learn to eat like Eskimos so we don’t starve in the winter. The bowl contained Eskimo Ice Cream called Akutaq (AH-koo-TOK). This is the stuff of legends. The travel channel guy from that bizarre foods show had it. If I remember correctly, the ingredients are: Salmon Berries, Black Berries, Sugar, Crisco, and a smidgen of fish oil. I may be wrong on these so don’t sue me. Anyhow, it was very, very good. Since it is mostly berries, the Crisco and fish oil were barely noticeable. It tasted great and left your palate clean with only a little tartness from the Black Berries.
Katie told us about the conditions of life during her youth and how school was when she was a kid. Moses and Virginia later told us that she did that so that we might have some insight to the negative attitudes that some elders have towards school. After Katie described her life in the sod house of the old days she made it quite clear that she greatly preferred to live in her modern house with its electric lights and stove that requires no wood. She is quite happy to live like a cussuk and she is enjoying her life tremendously.
I feel privileged to have had the opportunity to share tea, dessert, and conversation with this Yup’ik Elder, Katie Albright. If I am lucky, I will have this opportunity again and again. My only regret is that I forgot to bring my camera on this walk. Oh well, maybe next time.
The airplane was supposed to arrive around 9:30 a.m., when in fact it arrived at 10:00. It was supposed to have enough seats to accommodate around five passengers from Atmautluak when in fact there were only enough seats for three. The boxes that Pam sent UPS were supposed to be delivered around August 2nd when in fact they are still in the hanger at Arctic Circle Air and will now be delivered around Friday the 10th. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. This is the way it is here and I have to get used to it.
As soon as I arrived in Bethel and found the Dorm where I would be staying, I set out to see the town. Bethel is spread out all over the place. All of the roads that I have seen are dirt and only a few have boardwalks that follow them. Most of the time people walk along the side of the roads. There is a massive project underway to pave the main drag through Bethel which will do much to reduce the mud problem.
After dinner tonight, I mentioned going for a walk and a couple of my fellow teachers thought it was a good idea so we did. Before I continue with this story I should introduce my companions. My next door neighbor in Atmautluak and fellow teacher, Virginia and her husband Moses; Darren, a new teacher from Oregon and I all decided to find the Kuskokwim River to see if there were any big ships at the docks. It is important to note that Moses is a Yup’ik Eskimo from this part of Alaska. As we walked, people would stop to say CAMA’I (chama-I or hello) to Moses. It seemed like Moses had a cousin every quarter mile. Hanging around with this guy is a good way to meet people.
We found the river and the port and though there were no big ships in port, there was plenty to look at. We saw guys loading big barrels of gasoline into their boats to take back to their villages because the price of gas in the village is around $11.00 per gallon. We noticed too that the Kuskokwim River is greatly affected by the tides of the Bearing Sea, which is some 70 miles down stream.
On our way back to the dorm, Virginia spotted a small sign on the side of a house. The sign said “Albright, K.” and nothing else. She said to Moses “Hey Moe, I wonder if that’s your Aunt’s house.” Moses got very excited and they went to the door to ask if this was the home his Great Aunt Katie Albright. It was! The two went inside and immediately Virginia came back out to invite Darren and me inside. Game for anything he and I gladly accepted the invitation and went inside to meet Moses’ family.
Aunt Katie shook our hand and welcomed us warmly. Moses’ cousin David, the man of the house, greeted us and made us feel welcome as well. Darren and I kind of stood around as Moses and Katie chatted in Yup’ik. When it seemed like we were about to leave Katie invited us to stay and have tea. It was obvious that Moses really wanted to stay so he could visit with his aunt and we felt very welcome so we said yes to tea. Katie is 83 years of age and she likes to share her culture with the cussuks (Cossacks or white people) that she meets. After the tea was poured she scurried over the refrigerator and got out a bowl to bring to the table. She said that it is important for us cussuks to learn to eat like Eskimos so we don’t starve in the winter. The bowl contained Eskimo Ice Cream called Akutaq (AH-koo-TOK). This is the stuff of legends. The travel channel guy from that bizarre foods show had it. If I remember correctly, the ingredients are: Salmon Berries, Black Berries, Sugar, Crisco, and a smidgen of fish oil. I may be wrong on these so don’t sue me. Anyhow, it was very, very good. Since it is mostly berries, the Crisco and fish oil were barely noticeable. It tasted great and left your palate clean with only a little tartness from the Black Berries.
Katie told us about the conditions of life during her youth and how school was when she was a kid. Moses and Virginia later told us that she did that so that we might have some insight to the negative attitudes that some elders have towards school. After Katie described her life in the sod house of the old days she made it quite clear that she greatly preferred to live in her modern house with its electric lights and stove that requires no wood. She is quite happy to live like a cussuk and she is enjoying her life tremendously.
I feel privileged to have had the opportunity to share tea, dessert, and conversation with this Yup’ik Elder, Katie Albright. If I am lucky, I will have this opportunity again and again. My only regret is that I forgot to bring my camera on this walk. Oh well, maybe next time.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Crap!
Still no pictures guys, sorry. I'll have to work on it when I get back to Atmautluak.
When I get some time I have some pretty cool stories to tell you about the food and the people, so hang in there.
When I get some time I have some pretty cool stories to tell you about the food and the people, so hang in there.
Monday, August 6, 2007
Happy Birthday to Me!
August 6th 2007
Happy Birthday to me! Also the 62nd anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, I think.
What a good birthday! I got to talk to my sweetheart and two of my boxes came in the mail. I also got messages on face book from a bunch of my friends but I can’t access face book through the school’s server. I’ll have to work on that.
I though I had the picture posting thing figured out but no such luck. Sorry, I'll keep trying.
I go to Bethel for training tomorrow so there may not be any new entries for a few days. Maybe by then I'll have this picture posting thing figured out.
Goodbye for now.
Happy Birthday to me! Also the 62nd anniversary of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, I think.
What a good birthday! I got to talk to my sweetheart and two of my boxes came in the mail. I also got messages on face book from a bunch of my friends but I can’t access face book through the school’s server. I’ll have to work on that.
I though I had the picture posting thing figured out but no such luck. Sorry, I'll keep trying.
I go to Bethel for training tomorrow so there may not be any new entries for a few days. Maybe by then I'll have this picture posting thing figured out.
Goodbye for now.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
The Challenges of Relocating
August 3rd 2007
It dawned on me how large a mistake I made by not following my plan. By not getting my boxes mailed out earlier, I had nothing to unpack and set up nor did I have any food standing by. I still have four days before anything happens so I guess I’ll just hang out and watch the locals.
I went for a walk around the village last night at around 8:00. Since there was still four hours of daylight left in the day I figured that I might as well make use of them. There is one main gravel road here that goes to the airstrip and the rest are boardwalks. If I had to guess, I would guess that there is somewhere around two miles of boardwalk in the Village of Atmautluak. These are more than walkways though; they serve as racetrack for four wheelers and bicycles and as playground and jogging track. The boardwalks connect to each house in town and there is a wider part, like a drive way or parking pad for the resident’s four wheeler.
The houses are on stilts of various sorts but all are about three or more feet off of the ground. I guess this is so the heat from the house will not thaw the permafrost. The “yard” between the houses is probably three times that of the typical suburban neighborhood. Most homes had a fish drying shelter and a walk-in smoke house. There seemed to be a boat or two, a snowmobile or two, and a four wheeler or two per household. A few homes had those six wheeled amphibious vehicles in the yard as well. I also saw cars and trucks. They looked mostly like junk vehicles but it is possible that they are used after the ground freezes.
I slept pretty well last night. I decided to sleep on the couch because I like them better than beds. Since Pam is not here to make me come to bed I didn’t. Besides, the couch is much cozier than the bed. I discovered that I need a night light in the bathroom.
I have failed to describe my new home for you. Hot pink, is all I can say. The majority of the living room and adjacent kitchen is a very fun pink color. My guess is that the previous resident, Susan Haas (she left a bunch of stuff behind is how I know her name), wanted to end the boredom of plain white walls and her apartment her way. I’m good with that. I’m good because I don’t get excited about painting and have no desire to give the place a new color.
The layout of the place is like two single wide mobile homes side-by-side with a common roof. My side is long and narrow with the kitchen toward the entry and the bedroom at the opposite end. These are simple, functional accommodations with no frills. I am happy to report that I have running water, a flush toilet, a shower, and a washer / dryer set. The heat is fuel oil and the stove is electric. I don’t have and air conditioner for obvious reasons.
Since I have been here, the temperature has been in the mid sixties during the day and the high fifties at night. It has rained off and on since Bethel and I don’t think it will quit until it freezes.
The kids here play wherever they want for as long as they want. I was pouring down rain and these three little boys were outside playing in t-shirts like nothing was happening. There must be hardy people.
I talked to my wife today! Boy, do I ever feel better! I also learned that my first shipment was delivered, but not to me. Someone named Raymond T. signed for it so I went looking for Raymond T. I spoke with the construction workers, the proprietors at the local stores, the Post Master, and anyone else who would listen but no Raymond T. So I called the UPS Store in Bethel and spoke with a lady who knew absolutely nothing. I’ll try again tomorrow with a fellow named John at the UPS Store; he is supposed to know something according to the ladies who did not. On the bright side, I got to meet a lot of people today.
It dawned on me how large a mistake I made by not following my plan. By not getting my boxes mailed out earlier, I had nothing to unpack and set up nor did I have any food standing by. I still have four days before anything happens so I guess I’ll just hang out and watch the locals.
I went for a walk around the village last night at around 8:00. Since there was still four hours of daylight left in the day I figured that I might as well make use of them. There is one main gravel road here that goes to the airstrip and the rest are boardwalks. If I had to guess, I would guess that there is somewhere around two miles of boardwalk in the Village of Atmautluak. These are more than walkways though; they serve as racetrack for four wheelers and bicycles and as playground and jogging track. The boardwalks connect to each house in town and there is a wider part, like a drive way or parking pad for the resident’s four wheeler.
The houses are on stilts of various sorts but all are about three or more feet off of the ground. I guess this is so the heat from the house will not thaw the permafrost. The “yard” between the houses is probably three times that of the typical suburban neighborhood. Most homes had a fish drying shelter and a walk-in smoke house. There seemed to be a boat or two, a snowmobile or two, and a four wheeler or two per household. A few homes had those six wheeled amphibious vehicles in the yard as well. I also saw cars and trucks. They looked mostly like junk vehicles but it is possible that they are used after the ground freezes.
I slept pretty well last night. I decided to sleep on the couch because I like them better than beds. Since Pam is not here to make me come to bed I didn’t. Besides, the couch is much cozier than the bed. I discovered that I need a night light in the bathroom.
I have failed to describe my new home for you. Hot pink, is all I can say. The majority of the living room and adjacent kitchen is a very fun pink color. My guess is that the previous resident, Susan Haas (she left a bunch of stuff behind is how I know her name), wanted to end the boredom of plain white walls and her apartment her way. I’m good with that. I’m good because I don’t get excited about painting and have no desire to give the place a new color.
The layout of the place is like two single wide mobile homes side-by-side with a common roof. My side is long and narrow with the kitchen toward the entry and the bedroom at the opposite end. These are simple, functional accommodations with no frills. I am happy to report that I have running water, a flush toilet, a shower, and a washer / dryer set. The heat is fuel oil and the stove is electric. I don’t have and air conditioner for obvious reasons.
Since I have been here, the temperature has been in the mid sixties during the day and the high fifties at night. It has rained off and on since Bethel and I don’t think it will quit until it freezes.
The kids here play wherever they want for as long as they want. I was pouring down rain and these three little boys were outside playing in t-shirts like nothing was happening. There must be hardy people.
I talked to my wife today! Boy, do I ever feel better! I also learned that my first shipment was delivered, but not to me. Someone named Raymond T. signed for it so I went looking for Raymond T. I spoke with the construction workers, the proprietors at the local stores, the Post Master, and anyone else who would listen but no Raymond T. So I called the UPS Store in Bethel and spoke with a lady who knew absolutely nothing. I’ll try again tomorrow with a fellow named John at the UPS Store; he is supposed to know something according to the ladies who did not. On the bright side, I got to meet a lot of people today.
The Trip
August 2nd 2007: The trip to Atmautluak, Alaska.
Let me first confess that I already miss my wife, Pam. I want to call home but, as suspected, no cell phone service and no land line in my apartment. I have not felt this feeling for a long time; lonely.
My trip started yesterday, August 1st late in the afternoon. We said our goodbyes and parted ways. It seemed weird though, because it was unceremonious. We exchanged hugs, Pam and I kissed a few times, and I wandered off. It seems like it should have been different somehow, but I don’t know how.
The flight to Chicago was typical, crowded and short. Still, it was better than driving to O’Hare airport. My flight from Chicago to Anchorage was long but better. The airplane was filled to capacity because Alaska Air stranded a bunch of people and had to put them on our plane. Families and groups were scattered all over the aircraft. Kids of all ages were without the direct supervision of their parents.
The passengers in my row were two such children. Mary looked nervously out of place when I sat down. There was a seat between us so I didn’t press getting acquainted. The plane was almost full and I was beginning to think that the seat between us would remain comfortably empty. Just then, a very large family of small boys boarded and away went our spacious accommodations. The center seat was taken up by Mitchell, a nine year old boy from the Seattle area. He, like Mary, looked very unsure of these travel arrangements.
Shortly after getting airborne, Mary started to break the ice with Mitchell. We soon learned that Mary is the oldest of four children and she is due to start the Seventh Grade in a Christian School in Anchorage. It didn’t take long to find out that Mary is also hopelessly horse crazy and plans to become a Large Animal Veterinarian.
Mitchell is not horse crazy. He is a typical nine year old boy from the suburbs. He plays baseball and is a WEBLOS Scout. Like Mary, he is the oldest child in his large family. I lost track of all of his siblings but, there must be a bunch of them.
We landed at about 11:00 p.m. Alaska Standard Time (AST) which is 3:00 a.m. Eastern Standard Time (EST). The sun had not yet set when we exited the aircraft. I was torn between finding a quiet corner in the airport and curling up for the night or getting a hotel. I called around to several hotels and few rooms were to be had and each one was pretty expensive. I decided to stay in the airport because the cheapest room was $150. Then, I looked at my flight itinerary for my trip to Bethel. My flight didn’t leave until 11:53 a.m. That is twelve hours from now, I thought to myself. So I ended up getting a room.
The room was a small old Best Western room; nothing special and definitely not worth $150! The shower and the bed did feel good, but still not for that kind of money. When I walked out of my room the next morning, I saw Lake Hood and it was packed full of float planes. I was in awe at the sight. I walked about half way around the lake checking out all of the different float planes and then I saw the mountains in the background. The dark overcast sky with low slung clouds and snow capped peaks made the money I spent the night before worth every penny.
I found my way back to the airport in Anchorage to start the next leg of my journey, to Bethel and then Atmautluak. I got to the airport about two hours early, so I got some breakfast and looked at the Native Art Exhibits and dead animals on display. When I finally found gate C-9 I also found about twenty five Eskimo kids and their escorts. They were returning from something called ANSWER Camp. I will have to find out more on this camp but, it has to do with getting Alaska’s native children to meet and interact with Natives from all over the state. These were twelve and thirteen year old kids and boy, did they act like it. They were just like kids of that age anywhere on the planet.
I noticed something important about those Eskimos in the airport that made me worry a little. They were wearing a lot more clothing than I was. I knew that I was under dressed but my t-shirt and long sleeved shirt nothing compared to their winter coats. I brought a winter coat with me but it was checked in with my suitcase. I thought to myself, it’s too late now, I guess this will be a painful lesson.
All of those people who warned me about the culture shock that would come with a visit to this part of the world were and are right. Bethel is like a third world country right here in the USA. I am not going to say more about it because I don’t want to form a premature opinion Bethel. I met a fellow Atmautluak teacher Virginia and her husband Moses in the airport; that was nice.
As we made our final approach to Atmautluak, I recognized it instantly from all of the computer reconnaissance and research that I did earlier. By now it was raining and had cooled off some. I half expected to walk to the village from the airstrip, dragging my bags behind me, but it was not to be. Owen and Buster were waiting for us. They had four-wheelers with trailers so we were able to ride right to our door step.
My apartment was waiting for me as promised. It was a welcome sight. What were not waiting for me were the totes that Pam shipped earlier. No tote means no food or rain gear or toilet paper. Since I brought no food with me and since there are no restaurants in the village, I would have to buy some food at one of the two local stores. The following is a list of what I bought:
• Charmin Ultra – 4 rolls $5.95
• Distilled Water – 1 g. $6.74
• Chili Cheese Fritos $5.29
• Sardines – 2 cans $1.69 each
• Kipper Snacks $2.49
• Roast Beef Hash $3.93
• Tax $0.83
o Total $28.61
The item that killed me most was the distilled water. The last I knew, distilled water costs about 75 cents at the grocery store. I will not last long with these prices.
I ate some the hash and some Fritos as I was writing this. That hash is the worst thing I have ever eaten! I am going to put on some boots and a jacket and explore this town. I am kind of tired and I would like to rest but, I didn’t bring any movies or music with me and this apartment is very quiet, too quiet. More later.
Let me first confess that I already miss my wife, Pam. I want to call home but, as suspected, no cell phone service and no land line in my apartment. I have not felt this feeling for a long time; lonely.
My trip started yesterday, August 1st late in the afternoon. We said our goodbyes and parted ways. It seemed weird though, because it was unceremonious. We exchanged hugs, Pam and I kissed a few times, and I wandered off. It seems like it should have been different somehow, but I don’t know how.
The flight to Chicago was typical, crowded and short. Still, it was better than driving to O’Hare airport. My flight from Chicago to Anchorage was long but better. The airplane was filled to capacity because Alaska Air stranded a bunch of people and had to put them on our plane. Families and groups were scattered all over the aircraft. Kids of all ages were without the direct supervision of their parents.
The passengers in my row were two such children. Mary looked nervously out of place when I sat down. There was a seat between us so I didn’t press getting acquainted. The plane was almost full and I was beginning to think that the seat between us would remain comfortably empty. Just then, a very large family of small boys boarded and away went our spacious accommodations. The center seat was taken up by Mitchell, a nine year old boy from the Seattle area. He, like Mary, looked very unsure of these travel arrangements.
Shortly after getting airborne, Mary started to break the ice with Mitchell. We soon learned that Mary is the oldest of four children and she is due to start the Seventh Grade in a Christian School in Anchorage. It didn’t take long to find out that Mary is also hopelessly horse crazy and plans to become a Large Animal Veterinarian.
Mitchell is not horse crazy. He is a typical nine year old boy from the suburbs. He plays baseball and is a WEBLOS Scout. Like Mary, he is the oldest child in his large family. I lost track of all of his siblings but, there must be a bunch of them.
We landed at about 11:00 p.m. Alaska Standard Time (AST) which is 3:00 a.m. Eastern Standard Time (EST). The sun had not yet set when we exited the aircraft. I was torn between finding a quiet corner in the airport and curling up for the night or getting a hotel. I called around to several hotels and few rooms were to be had and each one was pretty expensive. I decided to stay in the airport because the cheapest room was $150. Then, I looked at my flight itinerary for my trip to Bethel. My flight didn’t leave until 11:53 a.m. That is twelve hours from now, I thought to myself. So I ended up getting a room.
The room was a small old Best Western room; nothing special and definitely not worth $150! The shower and the bed did feel good, but still not for that kind of money. When I walked out of my room the next morning, I saw Lake Hood and it was packed full of float planes. I was in awe at the sight. I walked about half way around the lake checking out all of the different float planes and then I saw the mountains in the background. The dark overcast sky with low slung clouds and snow capped peaks made the money I spent the night before worth every penny.
I found my way back to the airport in Anchorage to start the next leg of my journey, to Bethel and then Atmautluak. I got to the airport about two hours early, so I got some breakfast and looked at the Native Art Exhibits and dead animals on display. When I finally found gate C-9 I also found about twenty five Eskimo kids and their escorts. They were returning from something called ANSWER Camp. I will have to find out more on this camp but, it has to do with getting Alaska’s native children to meet and interact with Natives from all over the state. These were twelve and thirteen year old kids and boy, did they act like it. They were just like kids of that age anywhere on the planet.
I noticed something important about those Eskimos in the airport that made me worry a little. They were wearing a lot more clothing than I was. I knew that I was under dressed but my t-shirt and long sleeved shirt nothing compared to their winter coats. I brought a winter coat with me but it was checked in with my suitcase. I thought to myself, it’s too late now, I guess this will be a painful lesson.
All of those people who warned me about the culture shock that would come with a visit to this part of the world were and are right. Bethel is like a third world country right here in the USA. I am not going to say more about it because I don’t want to form a premature opinion Bethel. I met a fellow Atmautluak teacher Virginia and her husband Moses in the airport; that was nice.
As we made our final approach to Atmautluak, I recognized it instantly from all of the computer reconnaissance and research that I did earlier. By now it was raining and had cooled off some. I half expected to walk to the village from the airstrip, dragging my bags behind me, but it was not to be. Owen and Buster were waiting for us. They had four-wheelers with trailers so we were able to ride right to our door step.
My apartment was waiting for me as promised. It was a welcome sight. What were not waiting for me were the totes that Pam shipped earlier. No tote means no food or rain gear or toilet paper. Since I brought no food with me and since there are no restaurants in the village, I would have to buy some food at one of the two local stores. The following is a list of what I bought:
• Charmin Ultra – 4 rolls $5.95
• Distilled Water – 1 g. $6.74
• Chili Cheese Fritos $5.29
• Sardines – 2 cans $1.69 each
• Kipper Snacks $2.49
• Roast Beef Hash $3.93
• Tax $0.83
o Total $28.61
The item that killed me most was the distilled water. The last I knew, distilled water costs about 75 cents at the grocery store. I will not last long with these prices.
I ate some the hash and some Fritos as I was writing this. That hash is the worst thing I have ever eaten! I am going to put on some boots and a jacket and explore this town. I am kind of tired and I would like to rest but, I didn’t bring any movies or music with me and this apartment is very quiet, too quiet. More later.
Friday, July 27, 2007
About Friends
I recently got a phone call that I never expected. The call was from a friend that I have not seen in months and expected to never see again. My friend Sam Cho called from Korea and we talked for about twenty minutes. His phone call made me feel happy inside and I like that feeling. I look forward to seeing Sam and his family again in the future.
I also got reacquainted with some friends that I had not seen in a couple of years. That reunion, likewise made me happy. I see a pattern developing here. I think that staying in touch with old and new friends just might be a way to bring joy into your life at regular intervals. I'll work in it and let you know.
I'm still stuck in Indiana but my departure day is getting closer. It just dawned on me that my shipped goods will be arriving in Alaska after I do. This is bad because my initial stock of groceries are in these shipments. As a fat guy, this troubles me, but not too much because it will do me good to eat less. I don't think there is any real threat of starvation until I go for a month or so without food.
Back to the subject. The message here is, thanks for staying in touch, friend (this means you).
Until next time, good bye.
I also got reacquainted with some friends that I had not seen in a couple of years. That reunion, likewise made me happy. I see a pattern developing here. I think that staying in touch with old and new friends just might be a way to bring joy into your life at regular intervals. I'll work in it and let you know.
I'm still stuck in Indiana but my departure day is getting closer. It just dawned on me that my shipped goods will be arriving in Alaska after I do. This is bad because my initial stock of groceries are in these shipments. As a fat guy, this troubles me, but not too much because it will do me good to eat less. I don't think there is any real threat of starvation until I go for a month or so without food.
Back to the subject. The message here is, thanks for staying in touch, friend (this means you).
Until next time, good bye.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Still waiting to go.
I fly to Anchorage in one week and emotionally I am ready. I still have a lot more stuff to ship. I had no idea that I would need so many boxes to move so little material.
Pam and I are going to Michigan this weekend so I can say my farewells. Seems crazy that I'm the one leaving, again, and I have the farthest to travel, yet I have to go to them to say goodbye. Doesn't that seem backwards?
The list of people who want to stay in touch with me on this journey is growing, almost, daily. This makes me happy because, the more people I can get excited about this part of Alaska the better off the schools will be. They still need teachers so I am doing my part to recruit some help.
More to follow later. Thanks for visiting and post your comments as you wish.
Jerry
Pam and I are going to Michigan this weekend so I can say my farewells. Seems crazy that I'm the one leaving, again, and I have the farthest to travel, yet I have to go to them to say goodbye. Doesn't that seem backwards?
The list of people who want to stay in touch with me on this journey is growing, almost, daily. This makes me happy because, the more people I can get excited about this part of Alaska the better off the schools will be. They still need teachers so I am doing my part to recruit some help.
More to follow later. Thanks for visiting and post your comments as you wish.
Jerry
Monday, July 23, 2007
My First Day with My New Blog!
Thanks for visiting my blog site. It is pretty skimpy right now and it is likely to stay that way for a couple of months. Don't get frustrated though, because real soon it will contain photographs of my new home, my classroom, and my travels in Alaska.
Please feel free to leave comments or questions as you wish.
Please visit again.
Jerry
Please feel free to leave comments or questions as you wish.
Please visit again.
Jerry
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