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.