Last Week in Blueberry Land

July 26th, 2012
 

 On Monday I with Ana and her baby along the road down to the river. The sun was setting and the river always looks so smooth at this time of day. Children were playing in front of the log cabins as we walked past. As with many people here she told me about her traumatic upbringing with two alcoholic parents who were always fighting. She moved here to live with her grandmother who is one of the elders here. Many people live with their grandparents as all of the parents seem unable to function. What a strange landscape I find myself in.

We have just returned from camping with some of the older kids. Crimson, William, Phillip and Joseph came who are all between 11 and 14. The camping trip was my idea and so it was filled with the usual chaotic planning style. Amy is not particularly comfortable with that style of planning but she tried not to freak out. Yupik Eskimo communication is a bit .... uh...different from New York. They are called the "Silent People" and don't really respond much. It took us two weeks to get an answer as to whether we would have access to tents and gunners. Yes, you need to have people with guns to accompany you when you take children camping here due to the possibility of a bear attack. Every time I asked someone about coming they would say something like "maybe', "I'll see," "I'll let you know". When I asked other people about someone good to come with they would frown and say, "oh, I don't know." Trying to be a good anthropologist I refrained from attacking them.

Due to the whole concept of a possible bear attack and lack of commitment of a gunner, Amy was logically anxious about the plan. While walking with Ana we came across two men at the river who had been listed in our notes as reliable and I asked if they were interested. They said yes. the next morning we planning and feeling good about it when the head, non-native woman came in and said  said she would never let this guy go as he has had some 'issues'  and she wouldn't trust him with a gun. We both sat there stunned, not knowing what to do as our notes had indicated that his family was reliable. After she left the native ladies came in and said he was a good and responsible person and they didn't know what that white lady was talking about. This was all in our 'home' the office of the tribal council.

We did go and Father Michael took us in his boat. We piled the kids and luggage in and he said he wasn't sure the boat would make it with so much in it. When pulling out from the harbor I decided we could use a dog so called one of the many dogs on the beach to swim over to the boat. The kids were calling their dog and he was hesitating then jumped in the water. He was a bit old and couldn't reach us so I got out with rubber boots and helped him into the boat. He looked rather confused when we started to ride away. I asked the kids if it was alright that their dog came with us. "It's not our dog," Joseph said. "Whose is it?" I said, and just at this moment this man Bill rode up. "It's his dog, " they said and shouted to Bill. "Can we take your dog on a camp out ?" they said. He said, "Sure, where is he?" as he looked around. They he saw Brutus in the boat with us and yelled, " You already have him. Dog napper, Dog napper". We all were laughing and rode away.

 

When we landed on the island we found many moose prints and a sandy beach. Amy and I set up the tents while the kids were 'helping' by finding firewood. As Amy struggled to make a fire to cook the package of hot dogs we had bought at the the tiny store in the village, our gunners showed up-Michael and William, rifles over their shoulder. Now this sounds a bit scary but they were two men in their early twenties and well know in town. They proceeded to walk into the woods on the island to make sure there were no bear around. When we finally cooked the hot dogs the kids all said, "What no ketchup?" as Amy stared at me. I had been too worried about money to buy condiments. Oops.

The kids were all excited. They were like superheros to them. While Amy struggled to get a fire going as I looked for more wood, they left in the boat to find more wood. They returned with birch trees on from the other side of the river and proceeded to built a giant bonfire in five minutes. Michael and William then cut down small trees and built themselves a hut with branches for walls and a fire pit for warmth.  They then took two boys fishing, came back with two white fish, filleted them and cooked them.We could hear an owl hooting across the river and as I walked across the beach looking for wood there were so many prints. 

While this was happening Joseph, Phillip and William were in and out of the water but it was so cold that they were shivering most of the time. William, kept saying, " This is so fun, so fun," while shivering in front of the fire after swimming in the cold river. Most of the time they love to spend time with us but our coolness had clearly been usurped by the older guys. Michael had managed to find whitefish which he cooked in the fire. They had seen moose by the water while out on the boat. The boys all picked at it saying, "Hmmn, so good, so good." I don't eat fish but it indeed looked good and juicy. The older William ran races with the boys as well as Crimson who appeared to be a track star. They loved him.


Later on the girls went to their tent and we sat by the fire with the boys just chatting about nothing serious. They seemed just happy to be with us. It was so nice to just listen to them by the fire and have their attention. I think they were really tired (even though most nights they stay up so late). We finally said it was time to sleep and they ran to their tent. It was 3:00 am. I looked in and they were all snuggled under one blanket and just excited to be camping out.

Amy and I got in to our ridiculously small ten. It was freezing but I felt a bit claustrophobic and moved upside down so I could see out the opening in the door way. We woke up to cold rain and the sound of a motor boat coming to get us. It was 8:00 am, and everything was wet and cold. The gunners were still awake in their hut ever reliable. Their pit fire had kept the enclosure warm.

 

 

 

Leaving Chewy

July 30th, 2012

It's around 1:00 am and I am in the office in Anchorage. I'm feeling a bit disoriented and exhausted being back. It is so strange to go from one reality to another. We had two intense days of traveling and seeing people and finishing up the program. We had a long day of meetings and paperwork and hearing about others peoples experiences, some of which made me green with envy. On the other hand as Amy has said to me in the past, "Those are their experiences, these are ours." There is so much I wouldn't have wanted to miss. Saying goodbye to Amy last night as her husband picked her up was hard. Teri and I stayed up talking with Emily till midnight last night and Teri left this morning to meet up with her son. So here I am getting ready to leave for Denali.
 

On the last week, in addition to the camping trip we had a sleepover with the younger kids. We wanted to divide them up so that each of the kids would get more individual attention. We did it upstairs in the city building at night which was great as we could make as much noise as possible. Each of the children showed up all excited with their pillows and blankets or sleeping bags. We played twister, zombie tag, capture the flag and the bomb which was a big hit. You pass around a balloon to each of the kids trying to keep it up in the air and if it gets dropped it 'explodes'. I think that's the part they like the best - when it exploded.  We hung up the parachute and pretended it was a tent and they all wanted to sleep under it. Steven, a six year old chubby cheeked boy with a Mohawk, wanted to sleep next to Amy, which was sweet. I slept next to Stephanie and Deshaun, a big boy for his age - he looked older then seven- but a sweet demeanor and well like by everyone. In the middle of the night he woke up missing his mom and snuggled by me. I rubbed his back and he went back to sleep.

In the morning Amy made tie dye pancakes. The kids love them as they put food coloring on top of them and make their own design. Steven had a habit of saying, "I need help, I need help." for the most simplest of tasks and he was asking me now to cut his pancake. Not very good in the morning I was being grumpy to him while his sister Stephanie said, "Brother, you can do it yourself." Of course Stephanie would cry on a dime about anything but they were also enthusiastic about playing all the games and Stpehanie was a great artist who at seven years old told me she wanted to be a doctor in New York when she grew up. Their mom was very involved with them which impressed me and their dog Cujo was sweet and strange looking.

On the day before we left we made boats out of ice cream sticks and took them down to the water to race in the stream. Everyone became interested and creative in doing it. We took them down by the water and raced and it was interesting to see the different designs that worked. Troy, a very hyper but adorable boy, seemed to be the best at it and it was good to see him concentrate on something as he didn't do that often. I had met a radio reporter at the city building who helped me take down the lunch food to the river and he interviewed many of the kids there. We had offered everyone swimming as it was the last time we would do so but Troy was the only one to go in the water. Each kid was talking to the reporters big microphone and fascinated by it. We went up later and gave out the games to the kids. That night, knowing how much Troy wanted the life jacket (he had asked for it over and over) Amy and I walked over and gave it to him.
 

So many memories from the experience envelope me now. The village itself. It was set on the hillside in front of the Kuskokwim River. Behind us were the Russian Mountains and the hills were still covered with spongy tundra but also with many, many skinny pine trees and other greenery. There were shades of blue green and brown and a bright green grass covering the spongy earth of the tundra mosses. I loved to walk on it and bounce. The view out our cabin window - pine trees, gray green, wheat like tall grasses and lime colored horse twill and mountains beyond that you can only see on a clear day.

One night we made a fire for the teenagers but none came. We were starting to think no one would come when the boys showed up. It was one of the rare sunny days in Chewy and the evening sun made the river and trees glow. We sat talking and making s'mores. The boys gathered firewood. They were laughing and talking until one of the parents showed up, looking intoxicated and asked for a smore. Her son handed his over and she just sat there looking angry. After she left the boys took us for a hike by the creek, through the high grass. It blazed a trail next to the stream surrounded by tall grass and trees. They kept leading us through, so excited to show us the path. It was wonderful and we were laughing. They never wanted us to home but we had to sleep. Many nights kids and dogs were knocking on the doors and windows, wanting our attention, but unlike Yupiks, us gussicks needed sleep at night.

Waking up late on a rainy Saturday with Amy making coffee. Watching Pierce Brosnan movies at night while we ate her signature dish of rice beans, cheese and picante sauce.  The first time Steven went swimming in the river in his little life jacket. He was on the dock with the other kids saying to his mom, "look mom, I'm swimming, I'm swimming. This is so fun."

Kay- a ten year old girl who does not really speak much but communicates in the Yupik way - by raising her eyebrows for yes and pursing her lips for no. Being taught other words by Crimson like,  "Eeeeee and Waca."The boys when teasing each other say, "So psycho you are" or "I joke."

Helen took us berry picking with the kids and then left us there. she told them to be good and listen to us which worked, at least with the girls. The boys started berry picking but ten minutes into it were jumping around and wresting with each other. Inevitably someone would get hurt, start crying, we'd break them up and then five minutes later they'd be doing it again and laughing. Meanwhile the girls were diligently picking berries from spongy earth with the Christmas tree plants all around. This was for the Augdig, the 'ice cream."

 

 

 

Being on the river at 12:00 midnight in the cold misty rain but it all being so peaceful. Passing the log cabins which dotted the pine tree covered hillside. On the last day, while packing frantically, I asked Father Michael to take me down to the church. It was silly that I never had found the time to do if before but Amy said to me, "when would you have done it?" It was true, we didn't seem to have much free time. It was up on a hill and looked very old and dilapidated. Inside there was wood paneling which looked strange contrasted with the beautiful religious paintings brought from Russia. There were also gold lanterns and chalices on the alter. He showed me prayer books written in yupik and Slavenia which is the language used for the religion. There is a wood stove to keep the church warm in winter and he said it is sometimes too hot in there. His soft lyrical voice was telling me about a saint who lived in this village. I thought of my Ukrainian grandmother as we looked at the at the fenced in graves in the yard and the Russian crosses on the graves. He wants to build a new church as this one is sinking into the mud. 

The boys hung around while we backed and Kay sat on an ATV in tears. We finally convinced them to show us Yupik dancing They stood outside the building - William banging on a 'drum' while Deshaun, Joseph and Phillip danced. They danced shyly and laughing slowly showing us the bird dance they do. Then Eric Morgan, who had been our cultural guide, picked us up on his ATV with the trailer behind him. As the dogs followed us, he said, "Once you feed them they will follow you everywhere." But even he seemed sad for them as he shooed them off the tarmac.

We said last goodbye to the boys and I felt so sad leaving them behind. Our three faithful companion dogs -Harley ( golden retriever) Cujo ( lab/shcnauzer) and Penny (new black pup) ran after the ATV all the way to the airstrip.  Harley, golden girl, sat on the tarmac watching as we got into the little plane which carried us, a reporter from the local radio station and an old Eskimo lady with a puppy. As we flew up over the village on the hill with the old Russian church and skinny pine trees, I could see Harley turn and walk back to the village.

 

Traditional Day

7/19/12

Today we had a Chuathbaluk Tribal Gathering with bike races, egg toss, three legged race and a BBQ of steak,  ribs and salmon. We lucked out with the weather. It was cloudy and about 50 degrees but it never really rained which is good.  There were bike races, egg toss, sack races that we helped out with.

There was a fish cutting contest and several of the elders took part with Sophie the winner cutting up a salmon in 59 seconds. Father Mike blessed the meal. He is a Yupik man here who is also a Russian Orthodox priest. He has an office in the building, actually the room where Amy and I sleep. He comes in around 9:00 am in his long black robes with his long shaggy black hair. At first he seemed cold and unfriendly but after some time I realized that this is the Yupik way. They are known to value silence and I have come to admire it although my skills don't run in that area. In an effort to connect with him I shared that my grandmother was Russian Orthodox and he seemed to appreciate that.

 Last night I joined Father Mike, his wife Matushka and Helen on a boat for the fishing contest. This involved something called a drift.  For some reason that I don't really understand this is best done at 12:00 midnight (that's Yupik time which is actually 1:00 am in Gussick time). I actually debated going as we had to be up so early the next morning but I wanted to experience it.

I walked down to the river at 11:45 am with some ambivalence as I saw Amy snuggle into her sleeping bag. It was cold and rainy and I was tired but I didn't want to miss it. As I walked down the empty road past dark log cabins it occurred to me that this would be the perfect time for a bear to emerge. I walked past a broken down deserted cabin that the kids said was haunted and thought I heard a noise and moved quickly.

I arrived at the beach and no one was there, for the contest. (Helens methods of publicizing this event were somewhat ...well... low key).  It was dark grey outside, windy and misty. I was immediately freezing and wished I hadn't come. But it was also kind of beautiful. It's hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that there are so few people in this part of the world. True wilderness here. I stood on the beach divided. One part of me hoping that no one would show and I could go back to bed and the other enjoying the peaceful serenity of standing on the river beach in the grey misty wind alone.

While I was waiting a couple came along on an ATV. I thought finally someone is here for the contest but they were looking for their son William who had taken a boat to Aniak that morning. The Yupik man was dark haired, around forty five and handsome in a chiseled kind of way. The woman, younger and part Caucasian, was worried. Her 19 year old son and friend hadn't returned and their cell phone wasn't working. They were in a canoe. I looked out at the choppy river and hoped nothing had happened to them. So many young people die here from suicide and drowning.

Finally Helen and Father Mike arrived around 1:00 am. Now I'm from New York City ... you know...the city that never sleeps, but Yupiks really never sleep. They seemed to find this perfectly normal to be going out fishing in the cold rain at 1:00 am. This wouldn't have really bothered me except that we had to be up at 7:00 am and there was also the issue of the ribs. But I'll get to that in a minute.

The Yupik people have this really soft way of speaking. To my New York nasally ear it's almost as if they are swallowing their word which makes it difficult to understand sometimes. There is also a Canadian aspect to their accent or border accent - sort of like the one they had in that movie Fargo. It reminds me of how far north I am. I like to listen to their voices. I sat on the boat shivering and watched as Father Mike and Helen put out a large net into the water down river from Chuathbaluk. Then they sat until the floats started bobbing which is apparently the sign for fish getting caught. Matushka was steering the boat, coming close to the other side of the river moving where Father told her to go.

The salmon get their gills caught, I think. As they pulled them in I was amazed at the size of them. They were at least three feet across. Father Mike struggled to get their teeth out of the net and was bitten at one point. Their teeth are large. We went to another location (extending our 'half hour' trip into two) and found many more in a net that had been set up a day before. . It was really cold but still a grey light was out as this is summer time. The others seemed completely unaffected by the cold. As they pulled fish in they determined which ones were too old for eating and Helen would throw those back. But that would be only if they would survive. Because if they were going to die anyway she said they would use them. I was excited to see tradition in action. Father Oleska had told us in Anchorage that the Yupik culture involved the concept of wasting nothing. So no fish would be wasted. It was about respecting the animal and his offering. They found chum salmon and whitefish and they were huge. It was soooo cold for me with the wind and the mist but doesn't bother them. there seemed to be no worry about the time and the temperature. I don't think people sleep much in the summer. Children seem to stay out half the night and no one seems to worry. I wondered, not for the first time, if this is some adaptation to the seasons as it is so light for so long in the summer and so dark and cold in the winter. For our 'half hour' ride we returned home at 2:00 am and Helen came in to check the ribs. I had to be up at 7:00 am. I am not a morning person.

Now about the ribs. Helen had asked me to cook ribs for the barbecue. Yes me, who never turned on her stove, cook ribs.  Earlier in the day she asked me if I could cut up a giant box full of frozen beef ribs and boil them. She said this would take an hour. Appalled, I pointed out that Amy and I had no actual kitchen to do this in, no large knife, no stove and most importantly of all, no frig.  "Oh," she said in her soft voice, " I guess I'll have to do them." Thank God, I thought, I don't even like to eat chicken with bones. Suddenly Amy says, "Are you sure we can't help, Helen? It's not really a problem." Helen replies, "Oh, that would be great. I have a big pot and you can put it on the hot plate." I look at Amy in shock. What is she thinking? She doesn't even like to look at meat and I don't cook. Helen runs home to get her big pot.

"What are you doing?" I ask exasperated. "I thought you wanted to do something traditional. You were just complaining that we hadn't done anything traditional so here's your chance. I'll help."
 Now Amy is a pescatarian. She doesn't eat meat. She hardly eats fish.  I knew this would be traumatic for her. Since she had been doing most of the cooking I decided to do it all. "You know" I said as I searched for rubber gloves,"Barbecued ribs are not traditional food." 

I began the surgery. I started cutting the frozen ribs in the bathroom, our only sink, with an old knife that I found in the outside. (I had found it when we were playing hide and seek with the children. One of them said to me, "That's Jamie's mothers." I responded, "Not any more." ) We had cleaned it and hidden it after that. I began when I realized I could get blood on my pants so I asked Amy to remove them since I had my surgical gloves. I hope no one was walking by the cabin when this happened. For two hours I sawed at the ribs. There was blood flying everywhere in the small bathroom. "Oh, god, oh god," I kept saying. Amy offered to help but I thought only one of us should  be traumatized so she chatted with me from the other room. I began to load up the giant pot on the tiny burner until it was full. Then I had to find something to fill it up with water. The only thing we had was a coffee pot so in and out of the bathroom I went, pants less, filling up the pot.  Pictures were taken. After the giant pot was filled with ribs and water we turned on the plate to boil. Helen came in and asked if we could set our alarm at 3:00 am to check it. I said no. I had to draw the line somewhere.

 When we returned at 2:00 am nothing had happened with the water despite the plate being on for three hours. We just turned it off and I crawled into bed at 3:00am. She returned at 7:30 am full of energy, much to my chagrin. The loud leader of the tribe had returned after a few days in Anchorage and decide to take control of the meeting on running the days events in her ever diplomatic style. The games were fun although the poor boys had to do a very long bike race around the town that Helen devised to get their energy out. Poor guys came in sweating and drained. But then they did three legged races and that seemed silly and fun. Before the meal the elder woman named Sophie spoke at the meeting about how elders weren't being taken care of and how the parents are drinking too much and needed to get back to the old ways. Her soft voice resonated and people listened so quietly.

Afterwards we had a BBQ where the Russian Orthodox priest father Michael said a prayer and we ate steak, ribs, salmon, whitefish, macaroni salad and agudiq which is Crisco, sugar, berries and fish. They call it Eskimo ice cream. People won prizes for picking berries and for fishing including ten gallons of gas which is worth about $100 dollars. There are no roads here and the only way in or out is by boat or plane so that is worth alot. Father won as he was the only participant.

I had been a little skeptical of the event as Helen had organized it but it didn't seem to be publicized very well. She's not very organized but then neither am I and I sort of delight in the chaos. (Amy does not - thank God - at least with her things get done.) There were no signs, no activity in the office for days but somehow it all came together and it seemed like there were well over a hundred people there.

Getting to know the Village

July 14th, 2012

We ran into the post office today as it started to rain while we were down on the beach. We tried standing under the porch but it leaked and we were getting wet. It's in a wooden building which overlooks the river. The man there sits at a small desk behind a screen. Above him are rows of boxes, each with a name of a family in the village. One of the girls here, Kelsey kept asking him why she did not have a box with her name on it. He said, "Well, I guess you never got mail here before." She seemed quite disappointed about that. The mail is brought in from Bethel once a week by plane. It's hard to imagine there are still places like this in the world.

The office politics continue. Apparentlty the woman in charge doesn't like another woman who has been really helpful and is being very vocal about it. The helpful woman doesn't like another office worker. Our contact Heen is basically praying for eveything to turn out okay.  We are gingerly walking around the office (our accomodatiom remeber) drinking coffee and trying to seem like we don't notice any of this.
 
Last night Amy and I received a call from Helen to come and have a steam bath. We were given directions like, "Go down the hill. Make a left at the log cabin with the broken down green snowmobile. Follow the path to the shack on the right."  Luckily for us there were kids standing on the road along the way. A man was standing on the porch of his cabin pointing to a shack in the back. Amy and I walked down a path in the tall green grass and  to an old shack with smoke coming out and a curtain in the door way. We went inside and there were two naked old ladies. ( Actually they probably weren't all that much older then me.) Both of us were wearing out bathing suits but Helen said, "Oh no, you need to be naked. That will be uncomfortable." As close as Amy and I have become we have not been planning on seeing each other naked. To make it worse we were both having a bout of ....well how should I say it...stomach problems which was made only tolerable by the fact that both of us have sinus issues and our sense of smell is basically dead. We turned away from each and took our suits off and went into the steam part of the shack self conciously holding our small travel towels in front of us.

It was dilapdated old wooden structure with a large black stove in the middle. Helen was feeding wood into it. As first we had been so cold outside that it felt good. It warmed us and helped soothed the excessive amount of mosquito bites that we had. We had a bowl of water beneath us and soap for washing but Helen told us to just let the steam get into our pores. So therer we were four naked women sitting in this old shack with the glowing embers of the hot stove in front of us. Once we go used to being naked it was comforting sitting there in the warmth - four women together. But then Helen warned us to hold our face clothes on our faces and she threw water onto the rocks. This intense wave of heat came at us and it was suffocating. I started to have a bit of a panic attack and went back outside. I told Amy not to look at my cellulite.

I sat on the bench for awhile, cooling off and watching the wind blow the old curtain open. I could see the tall green grass and trees made golden by the evening sun.  Helen came out and pointed out yellow hummingbirds in the trees. I waited till I was freezing and then went back in. It felt good to have the hot steam ooze out the toxins from my skin. I've never been a clean freek but between the bug spray and lack of showers I feel extremely dirty here.  Hot steam oozing all the toxins and dirt and just a sense of peace sitting in silence with these two ladies. It was great. In and out several times, talking about how the village used to be, the troubles now, how they use wood stoves to keep warm in the winter and steam baths to clean and apparently never sleep.

Afterwards one of the villagers took us fishing. He told us we would only go for an hour but we ended up coming home at 3:00 am. It was beautiful out on the river at that time but so cold and we coverd ourselves up in blankets while he talked about how he had to go looking for wood in the winter at 11 because his parents were drinking. He seemed to need to talk and we floated there wrapped in blankets for awhile.

The dogs of the village, of which there are many, follow us everywhere we go. Peopele here would be shocked at how much we baby dogs at home. Here they are like stray cats, running around. I suggested to one of the boys that we bathe them. He looked confused and said, "Why?" It is interesting to see how differently another culture deals with their animals. They throw rocks at them sometimes and apparently the dogs aren't allowed in the houses even when it is 30 below outside. They grow an extra layer of hair here. One of the dogs, called fungus, is really weird looking - big head and long hot dog body. He has taken to hanging around our house with Harley, the golden retriever who follows us everywhere. We are hoping she will alert us if there are any bears around when we go walking. Aparently you can smell a bear before you even see them. Eric saw one walking past his house yesterday morning.They saw a bear in town last week and this is apparently the busy season for them as people are smoking their salmom in these outdoor shacks called smokehouses.The bears smell them and come into town.

Eric has somewhat controversial status here - could possibly be the chief (if that's the right word). Personally I like him. Some prior groups indicated that he was a busy body. He's a bit inquisitive but that's okay. He has the most well kept house in town and tells us much about how living in the village used to be. How people fished most of the time in summer and smoked salmon so that they had enough to get through winter. How the kids would help cut trees for wood so they keep their houses warm. How there was little time for children to run around and stay up all night as there was so much work to do. He comes by regularly to check on us and will ride around town at night. He'll tell the kids to go home if they are hanging around the tribal council office and tell them to go to bed. He's concerned about the village. But then he has lost a son in a way, so that makes sense. I understand what that is like.

Week 2 Chewy: Is it raining again?

July 15th,

Our second week begins. Have I mentioned the mosquitoes? They are EVERYWHERE and so much worse then in Borneo. If I had know I would have bought a bug hat. Those ones that look so ridiculous but keep these critters from driving you mad. Even when I put on mosquito repellent everywhere they are tap, tap, tapping to get in. They are a bit befuddled by the smell of citronella so they don't bite but they still go everywhere with Amy and I. We walk around with gloves on and hoods pulled around our faces to hide as much bare skin as possible.

There are only 13 kids that we are working with here as opposed to almost fifty in Bethel. We are working in the upstairs of the city building which is nice but we have to try and be a bit quiet during the day which is virtually impossible when working with boys. The kids are much more quiet here and polite. They seem less troubled then in Bethel although alcoholism is a problem here as well.  Amy is attracting many here although she does nothing to encourage it. She had her gloved hand kissed the other day by a very charming albeit intoxicated man.  

 On Friday we had a dance party with the kids although it wasn't as successful as our "So you think you can Dance Bethel" party. The kids were more shy and reluctant to dance but the older girls were sooo excited to help us decorate. Kaylee and her sister Crimson helped us blow up balloons and hang them from the ceiling. Crimson dressed up for the event and looked so pretty in her earrings and Cuspuk (not sure how to spell that). The older boys like Joseph and Phillip sat underneath the table and watched as some others like DeShaun and Kaylee got up to try out for our dance contest. The room looked pretty with all of the balloons hanging from the ceiling. The girls covered up the windows to make it darker and we all filmed while groups got up. Deshaun ended up saving the day as he had an Ipad which had lots of good dance songs on it including my personal dance favorite, "You're sexy and you know it" .  Troy and Steven two energetic seven year olds got up to dance and Steven ended up wanted the spotlight the whole time. Well I get it...so do I.

I tried to get the older kids to dance by laying on the floor and doing "the worm" but it didn't happen. The big hit was playing limbo and pulling the balloons down to have balloon fights outside. Amy had used our left over food to make up snacks including pizzas with melted cheddar cheese on something called Pilot Bread (like a giant Ritz Cracker) it seemed to work. Much of the time everyone stood around the edges of the dance floor much like my junior high dances. Joseph, Philip and Kaylee ended up helping us clean up which was nice. They are 12 year old twins and the nicest boys. Both of them and Kaylee (age 10) hang around the house alot. They all stay out late and we can't decide if it's because that's normal here or they don't want to go home. We care for them and worry that they are okay out so late.

The Bethel census indicates that there are about one hundred people in town. All seem to be related to one another. Every time we talk to someone they tell us someone else is there sister, brother, auntie or uncle. We have been learning much about what the town is like including the fact that they only just got in running water about a year ago.  Before that it was transporting water on the back of an ATV and honey buckets for going to the bathroom. In addition to electric heat they use wood stoves as the temperature can go down to forty below here in the winter. People are given aid by the government but also practice subsistence living. That means they are doing a lot of fishing right now for Salmon as well as hunting moose and bear. The post office is right out of a Norman Rockwell portrait with one older white guy with missing teeth and a friendly demeanor. Strangely in a town full of Eskimos the mayor and head of tribal council is white and the chief does not appear to be working with the tribal council at all. Lots of politics in this small town.  

I always dreamed of staying in a log cabin but my dreams didn't exactly look like this. It is the Tribal Councils office so it has desks, computers and files. The walls and floor are plywood and sheet rock but they have these strangely plush area rugs that no one is allowed to walk on. They are beige which is not the greatest color in a town where it rains all the time and people are dragging in either dirt or dust. It's good for Amy and I since we sleep on them.

It's well.... more comfortable then Borneo but hot water and a shower would be nice. We finally took one at the washteria  and did wash which costs us $4.00 each. The major downside is that the office workers are in here at 7:30 am (apparently the only Eskimos that like to get up early) and Amy and I are forced to interact prior to caffeinating. We can't leave because the coffee pot is here and there's no other place to stay in town but it does have a nice view of the mountains. We had rice, beans and cheddar cheese which is our Saturday night meal here and we topped it off with Gatorade. Woo, hoo.
Yesterday it was rainy and cold (what a surprise) so Amy and I pulled up a movie on netflix and watched a very poorly acted movie of Pierce Brosnan pretending to be a Canadian Indian. The only up side was when he took off his shirt. Since the Internet connection was bad I had to keep hitting refresh well after Amy went into dreamland. I miss t.v.

Today two of the local guys took us to Mohawk Mountain which is part of the Russian Mountains about eight miles inland. We rode on ATV's sitting on the back. After dousing ourselves with bug spray we sat on the back and bounced along through the marshy landscape. There are no roads back there so we are literally riding on the spongy hills of moss that we are bouncing off and our two escorts - Robbie and Joseph carried shotguns in case we ran into any bears. The skinny pine trees became more plentiful filled in with small birch and many different kinds of bushes. It's very green but so different from anything I've ever seen. The ATVs kept overheating so we had to keep stopping and letting them cool. Harley, the local golden retriever and our new best friend followed us the whole way. We rode as she ran along beside us.

When we got to the bottom of the mountains we hiked up while the mosquitoes followed us. We went up this steep rocky outcrop which over looks a valley between the two mountain ranges. There was a river far below surrounded by pine trees. Mountains surrounded us. It looked like a movie set. Well except of course for Amy and I who were bundled up with long johns, rain suits, two hats and a hood completely covering most of our face to avoid the relentless hammering of the state bird in our faces.

As we sat there Harley snuggled into our laps. So loving this dog. She fell asleep as I patted her. It was so peaceful and far from the world. At one point Robbie shot his rifle and the sound echoed through the valley across the hill from us. Above the green the tops of the two mountains were rocky and barren. I searched with my binoculars for any sign of life and there was none. How could there be a place in this world that is so vast and empty of humans. To look at the valley from the cliff and realize it just keeps going and going with no one living there. The idea of that amount of wilderness leaves me breathless.

We rode back on our ATVs, bumping along the spongy tundra, hoping to see some animal, any animal. As usual the only one around were the mosquitoes which increased in volume as the day went on. It was pretty uncomfortable but I was happy to be out and about. Harley with her thick red gold fur kept following us back. She is sweet, sweet, sweet and we rewarded her with some beef jerky. In some ways dogs are lucky here because they can go wherever they want but people don't treat them like members of the family like we do back home. There are three that hang around us now (I suppose they heard about the beef jerky). One is called Cujo -a dog with a giant labs head and paws but small hot dog kind of body. The second is Penny a black puppy and our beloved Harley. They all sleep outside the house now. It can be upsetting as they are dying for some love. Amy and I give it to them.

Chewy, the hills where the big blueberries grow.

July 12th,

We are starting to adjust to our surroundings although having people in the office by 7:30 in the morning ready to work does not really gel with the overall slow movements of Amy and I. Thank God that she gets up before me and makes coffee or I'd be incapable of speech. Which come to think of it, isn't necessarily a bad thing for the people surrounding me.

The cabin where we stay is clean and nice although the view from the front encompasses tanker containers which seem to be left all over Alaska. The view is quite lovely from the other side of the cabin. There are two windows which lookout on the hillside where there are skinny pine trees and tall grasses and mountains in the distance. The town is a collection of cabins - some well maintained and many not, sprinkled on a hillside above the Kuskokwim River. We are about 90 miles upriver from Bethel now and the terrain is is a transition zone between artic tundra and boreal forests. It feels very far away.  

Sometimes around midnight I look out the window and watch as the setting sun goes behind the mountains. It is at that time when the land seems to glow and be at its finest. Pink and orange light glints through the branches. Between the many conifers there is still tundra, that spongy earth filled with small berry bushes, moss and lichens and tall grasses.  I stare out the plexiglass wishing I could hear the night noises. No one seems to have screens here. I think to myself: this is the right time to see the bear or a wolf that might be wandering past in this silent, glorious world of pine trees, rivers and midnight sunsets.

I look out and think about going outside but fear and the pull of my sleeping bag keeps me inside. I snuggle back down and listen to Amy's breathing and fall asleep. 

The next morning we are awakened to a frenzy of activity. The head of the council is here. She is not native but married to a native man, lives without electricity and not anything like the 'silent people' I have been meeting. She seems very east coast - very verbal and well somewhat bossy. I am wondering how she ended up here. The Yupik people on the other hand are very non-verbal. They don't speak much and answer questions either with eyebrows raised for yes or a pout for no. They don't come across as very warm but I am realzing that the culture is so different and I must be overwhelming them with my chattering and endless questions. There is so much I want to know.

 Most people barely respond to us when we ask them a question. When they do their response is silencet or I don't know or you should call ____ (fill in name here). 

Oy, needless to say we're not exactly feeling the love. 

I am on the phone with our boss from Anchorage who when this woman, let's call her Joanne, come sits down at the table and starts talking very loudly.  My boss doesn't understand why we are not feeling happy and tells us of another group who did not have tells us another group didn't have any running water and had to haul their own for several days. Joanne, who seems much more like a fellow New Yorker then an Alaskan is talking loudly to Amy about the fact that we have found another place to hold program. This, we think, is a good idea as it gets us out of their office but she seems to disagree. I see Amy's face and know this is not good. My boss is listening.

With the comparison of Joannes aggressive and loud approach to the native women in the office I am forced into self awareness, not for the first time, how I might be coming across. (Amy is always saying to me, "Stop yelling at me.") As charming as I think I can be I realize that my loud, nasally voice is perhaps just a bit off putting to the culture here. That matched with my inability to communicate and get answers reminds me with dismay as to what a poor anthropologist I really am. Arrgh again!

The issue is ultimately resolved by basic amguity as to whether it is okay for us to use the space. We take that as a yes.  Amy and I are relieved but still struggling with the lack of privacy and hot water. There is no kitchen for cooking and no refigerator. This means we make two servings of our shelf stable dinners each night and no more. Our meals involve rice, canned string beans and corn, as well as nuts and beef jerky. We have dried fruit and cereal for breakfast. We have to heat up water in a kettle to wash our dishes with.  We are being 'flexible' which is part of the pep talk that we received when we were in training.

We have found another space to work with the kids - above the city offices and that is a nice carpeted space which the kids love. There does seem to be some politcial issues between the tribe and the city  government but we are not involved and everyone is being helpful, well sort of. Now when I say the city I mean the mayor who is a white, grizzly looking guy in his fifties, an eskimo named Jerry who is in charge of their building and two or three of the women here. There are several older women who have been helpful to us but there does seem to be the question of who is actually our contact and that is sometimes seemingly in dispute. 

We've begun to see peoples smoking salmon for the winter. Almost everyone has a smokehouse in their backyard and once the fish is caught people hang them up to dry. We are hoping to get out to a fish camp to see it as now the salmon are running and fishing is busy. Many kids are away now so we only have about ten but that is great after Bethel.

The town has the following:

-two small stores, one which doesn't seem to ever be open;

-a tiny dock;

-city building;

-tribal council;

-middle school,

-a Russian orthodox church & graveyard:

 -clinic,

-post office

and about 20 houses.

We have met the children who prefer to play zombie tag and red rover. They are well behaved and wonderful. Friendly, dirty dogs follow us everywhere. They seem to enjoy the love we give them.

Arrival in Chuathbaluk, Population 100

July 7, 2012

After an all night packing extravaganza in Bethel, (Well at least for me. Amy being organized and doing double the packing was in bed much earlier then I) we were picked up by Rhonda early in the morning feeling sad to leave the children here behind but excited for our next adventure. The most devastating moment of the morning was when I realized the coffee shop wouldn't open until 10:00 am and our flight was at 9:30 am. How was I going to function?


Getty to Chewy took all day. We first flew to Aniak and as we traveled above the tundra I was amazed to see how vast an empty of humans the Kuskokwim Delta is. For a New York, it's an amazing experience to see endless land with no one living on it.  Mile after mile of marsh, lakes, tundra and scrubby trees stretched out below us. I looked for any sign of human existence but none was there. Alas, there was no sign of animal existence either and the pilot told us there used to be caribou in this area but not any more. (Arrrgh, I silently thought. Nothing like t.v.). As we continued to flight east the tundra began to give way to a more forested area and the marshland began to become more hilly until the hills became mountains.

When we landed at Aniak we were delighted to see that we actually had our own small airplane encompassing just Amy, myself and the pilot. It was so small that our bags were stuffed in behind us and up in a front compartment next to the engine. We dutifully took a photo with the pilot who looked very much like you'd expect a bush pilot to look like. He, like seemingly every other person in Alaska (except for the native communities) came from somewhere else and said he now lived in Aniak which was hard to imagine. It seemed so far away from everything.


As we circled the village we could see how small it really was. Log cabins trickled up the hillside and and an old Russian Church with a dome was visible overlooking the river. There was a rocky beach along the huge Kuskokwim River with a small dilapidated dock  and motor boats parked along the shores. The hillside was dotted with these small, skinny pine trees that I have only seen here in Alaska but to my joy it was very green with a mix of blue green trees and lime green grass. Rising up behind the village was the Russian Mountains which seemed to shoot straight up. Oh yes, this was much more lush and dramatic then Bethel although I had already started missing the spongy tundra and Pinky's Park.

We landed on the air strip above the town confident that our contact would be there to meet us. When we got off the plane a man named Eric was there with an a.t.v. He wasn't our contact but offered us a ride into town which we accepted. We watched our pilot fly off and felt a tad of anxiety. When we were dropped off at the Tribal Council building we were a bit confused as we were told we would be sleeping elsewhere and proceeded to debate this with Eric. He was a bit irritated with our insistence but left us there where we waited for someone to come and open the door. The girl who did come to open the door, let's call her Mary, did not seem particularly excited to see us but reluctantly opened the door and left. We found ourselves in and old log cabin with desks and computers and no kitchen.

We went for a walk around the town in our semi awake state. I can barely muster the energy to walk up the hills. Although it is quite beautiful we are consistently assaulted with mosquitoes. Now I've been in the jungle many times but I have never had to deal with this level of mosquitoes. They were EVERYWHERE hitting us right in the face, the mouth, the hands. Anything that was uncovered was fair game and by the time we finished our walk we were completely covered up and sweating. We meet two of the local kids who chatter away while walking and normally that would be great  but we can't handle the relentessness of the bugs and go back. 

Later in the day our contact Helen came in and told us this was where we would be sleeping. We felt it had to be a mistake as there was no lock on the supply room door and people would be in early. No privacy which is something that both Amy and I prize. Helen also invited us to a memorial 'feed' which is something people do when someone has died. It's really quite a beautiful idea as a mass is held at someones house a year after a person dies and then everyone eats. I expressed our discomfort at the idea of doing something so personal when not knowing the person but Helen said it would be a good thing to do to meet the town and that it is an open house.

While doubtful I talked Amy into going and we arrived there as the mass was going on. People were hanging around inside and outside and we stood self consciously in the hallway. There was no sign of Helen and Amy is looking at me anxiously. I wasn't sure what to do but didn't want to miss a cultural happening. Mary was there and I asked her where Helen was and looking annoyed, again, said she didn't know. We stood a bit longer and then feeling uncomfortable left. Later though, unable to resist the feeling of a lost opportunity I went back as a lady on the street, lifting her bug net, told us we should go, hoping that Helen would have arrived. Unfortunately there was no Helen and no one else but the family. I am now in the house of someone who just lost someone and then are looking at me as if to say- "Who are you" .  Not knowing what else to do I went up and shook the hands of the elders, introduced myself and said, "so sorry for your loss." I tried to sneak a glance at the food on the table, the anthropologist in me unable to resist missing traditional food, and left.

Exhausted, Amy and I both stretched our sleeping pads out on the carpeted floors of this plywood interior and went to sleep.

July 8th,

I woke up to Amy feeling ....well...somewhat stressed.  Mainly this was due to the toilet being blocked up just as some of prior years information had indicated. That comprised with the fact that we have no kitchen, no privacy as this is an office and no lock on our stock room makes us feel as if we are a bit on the disadvantaged side of this experience. We have made the mistake of reading other peoples postings on facebook talking about the beautiful places they are, the teacher housing they have with apartments, televisions, separate bedrooms. As we wait for David to bring a plunger we evaluate our situation.  Here we are sleeping on the floor, have no privacy and no kitchen to cook in. We will be cooking on our hotplate and worrying about our personal items. The notes from prior years indicate lots of drunks are out on the weekend and last night we awoke at 1:00 am to some people outside throwing things against the wall of the cabin. Amy could here them talking about us. It was a bit scary as we are new and didn't know who was outside. We write an email to our boss back in Anchorage whining about our situation. We can't get into the showers which are in another building and it's not open on weekends. We thought about touring more of the town today but alas the mosquitoes pelted our faces when we opened the door despite the endless rain. We lay in our sleeping bags reading and despondent. Oh woe is me, we wonder as I try to read my book about Yupik culture  and Amy downloads photos.