Thanks!

The last NYO trip of the semester, the coach came and asked me after lunch if I could chaperone the next day. I wasn’t at all prepared, but I said yes, knowing the trip would be off if I declined. I was hoping to finally have a weekend off but that’s just the way it goes sometimes! I haven’t had to travel as much as I did last year, but I still travel lots!

On this trip to Toksok Bay, the coach was not at all happy about the way things went. The kids kept him up most of the night and he barely got any sleep, but that’s to be expected. Like I’ve said before, you go assuming to be uncomfortable sleeping on the floor, tired, and dirty from the muddy and/or slushy ride in the sled. It’s just part of the job! 

Here’s how the NYO trips are laid out: you fly in, throw your bags on a sled and then jump on top of your bags, ride on the sled being drug by a four wheeler or snow machine, getting wet/muddy/cold. Drop your luggage off in a classroom at the school, where you’ll be sleeping, and usually walk to the village store if there’s time. Then you’re in the school until you leave the next day. Friday has 10 hours of events. Most of the time there are very scarce, if any, seating - the “bleachers” go to the chief and elders in the village, so you either sit on the floor or stand. Usually I wind up helping judge or score an event because there are not enough coaches to go around. There’s an hour for dinner, when the school feeds you, then it’s back to events. They usually get done around midnight, then the kids play around in the school. You get what sleep you can, sleeping on a hard cold floor, then the next morning you grab some breakfast and it’s 4 more hours of events. Then they’ll haul you back up to the airport if the weather is good. 

The trip was almost canceled due to bad weather. We were supposed to fly out at 10:30 and didn’t leave until after 2. There was crazy horizontal snow. Then, when trying to get back to Newtok, it looked like a blizzard was about to hit us. We rode out to the airport, and by the time we got there we were completely covered in snow, so no one was surprised to hear the pilot say over the radio that he was going to have to fly over us to another village and wait till it cleared up. So we hunkered down and waited, and fortunately it cleared up nicely within minutes. We radioed the pilot and he circled back to get us. I felt bad for the guys from the other school, though, because the pilot didn’t have enough fuel to take them. So they had to go back and wait for another flight. 

Students carving a pumpkin!

I’ve been on most of the trips for school traveling and have gotten use to how things work. It’s nice, though, when you actually get a weekend off every now and then. On our speech trip recently, they had to make a last minute flight adjustment and called to double check our arrangement. The pilot was already in the air, close to landing, and they needed to know first, and fast, how much we weighed. So we were frantically calling out how much each of us weighed and making the calculation so the pilot would know if he could even take us. Fortunately we were all able to get on the plane.

Most Fridays the school generator goes out so we have to finish the work day with no power. Thankfully the kids leave after lunch. Considering our work load this time is very much needed! Here’s a recap of what I teach: for grades 6-12th: reading, p.e., and speech; grades 9-12: health and science lab. Then there’s after school study hall and computer lab, and I’ll start coaching high school girls’ basketball next Monday.

Speaking of flights... one thing I’ve learned is that if you want to get out for Christmas, you have to make sure you have a reservation early in the year. A few other teachers and me made flights back in early October, so if weather cooperates, I’ll be home for Christmas. Not long now - only 3 weeks. This semester has really flown by.

There was apparently lots of drinking on Thanksgiving, and a bad snow machine accident happened. The two guys who crashed were rushed to Anchorage and had brain surgery, but they will live. Besides that, the holiday was nice. We got Thursday and Friday off, and I went over to Brandi, Paula, and Kevin’s house (the teachers from Louisiana). They are great people and take good care of everyone! 

ii-i!

The night that we heard the three Earviaks passed away, I was talking to 3 of my students in front of the school. All people have basic needs, but the Eskimos needs are intensified and more complicated than what others may think. They can’t go buy food from a store. They hunt their food. And even though I’ve known this and lived among them for almost 2 years, it still startled me when my students’ first reaction was how the family was going to survive. They were concerned, saying the family has no one to hunt for them anymore - all the males are gone. The girls have to pick up the slack, dump the honey bucket every morning, pack water, shovel snow, and learn to hunt for the family. It’s still hard to believe people today still live subsistence lifestyles, but they do. And people fear for their survival when that necessity is jeopardized. It’s not like the village is going to sit by and let them go without food, but it’s a startling realization of how significant a matter is when the means of hunting and gathering are gone. 

There was an article in the The Tundra Drums Newspaper about the family and the need to help them out. It talks about all the kids sleeping on a big mattress in a room and how their need for food is now a huge dilemma. If you want to read it, you can do so here:  

http://www.thetundradrums.com/article/1045y-k_deltas_help_needed_for_earviak_family_in

The Yupiks do not completely share the traditional beliefs of Native Americans, but some are still similar. They’ll start watching for the spirits of the three deceased to be reborn in babies in the tribal group.

The week before last we had a few dilemmas in the school. Our secretary was out, so the site administrator was filling in while trying to do his duties, and our cooks were gone for the week. In such a small school, the teachers fill in where we are needed. We came early to cook and serve breakfast, taking shifts to get ready for class. Preparing lunch was pretty busy, as we would take turns watching each other’s classes, running to the kitchen to cook and serve the kids. It went pretty smooth and the teachers collaborate well together. I’m lucky to get to work here.

That weekend I was back in Bethel for a second year teacher in-service. A colleague and I stayed at a bed in breakfast. I was going to stay at the district office, but this time I wanted to see the Rangers play, so I went somewhere with a TV.

So after we had checked in at the front desk, we went outside to find our building. (In the morning you walk outside to another building for breakfast. Everything’s different in the bush.) We were trying to open the outside door to go to our rooms and the key would not come out of the door. We stood there 10 minutes in the cold trying to get the key out. We finally had to call the owners (when we checked in they checked out for the night) and they had to talk us through the sequence. It was crazy. A seemingly trivial issue unless you’re standing in freezing temperatures working with a metal doorknob with no gloves. I hadn’t planned on being outside much so my gloves were stuffed in the bottom of my backpack. Anyway, The room I stayed in was the size of a walk-in closet. It had a twin size bed and an unfinished table with a small TV on it. There wasn’t even a working clock. (Remember a few blogs back I said Alaskan’s are practical…?) It didn’t bother me a bit though… it’s actually nice, considering other options. Much better than sleeping outside like I almost had to do that time, or on the floor, which is where I usually sleep over at the district office. Anyway, most TV sets pick up one channel out here. The GCI Company in Anchorage chooses the station and whatever they pick is what you watch. I was pretty confident they would have the baseball game on. Good thing I was right.

an arctic fox I saw near the airport

I’ve mentioned before that the Eskimos are people of few words. Instead of saying “yes,” they raise their eyebrows. I’ve even gotten in the habit of doing this. Here are a few phrases they use:

Instead of answering “I’ve already done that,” they say “already.” “Only” means “only so much of something.”

“Not even” means “don’t even think about it;” “try ask” means “why don’t you ask;” and instead of saying “I’m just kidding” they say “I joke.”

I like the little routines and the jokes I have with many of my students. Every time I see Jack, he says “Kim!” I respond with “Jack!” He says “You know what?” and we say together “Eeehhee!” (the Yupik spelling is ii-i). This joke came about my first month of teaching last year. My students were helping me get some of the basic words down in Yupik. I had already learned “Quyana.” – thank you. They were telling me how to say “you’re welcome,” which is ii-i. I kind of thought they were joking just because it sounds so funny. So I would say it really dramatic, stretching it out, which they thought was funny. So it’s been a joke every time we pass each other. 

The younger students call me Kim Possible or Cowgirl because I’m from Texas. One little girl, every time she sees me, puts her hand up and turns it in a circle, pretending like she’s a cowgirl roping. We get some laughs out of it.

If you live here long enough the Eskimos will give you a Yupik name. All Eskimos have their Yupik name and their English name. I even use their Yupik names for several people, but some are very hard to pronounce. Last year my students gave me my Yupik name: “irrcinraq” pronounced “ick (throat sound here, like you’re hocking a loogie) en-hawk (rolling throat sound). It means “little woman.” I earned this name because 1) I’m short and 2) I’m the youngest teacher they’ve known.

It seems like we are always having problems with our school internet. The upper wing rarely gets connection, which means I have to go down to the elementary wing to get online or even to print something. It’s been like this ever since I got here and it’s a pain. But we just have to adjust and deal with it. I have to make sure I have everything ready (hopefully days in advance) in case the connection shuts down for days at a time. 

It’s that time of year when there are lots of school trips - NYO, speech, FTA, Student Council. Because the form of transportation is by plane, boat, or snow machine, the handbook gives guidelines for school travel. Since I’ve been here we’ve never taken students by boat or snow machine because the other villages are too far away. Schools south of us do this often, especially those on the coast. The handbook gives guidelines for traveling by boat or snow machine. Here’s a little clip about what it says:

If travel is not by commercial carrier, survival gear will be carried including: 

1. matches, flares, food, first aid equipment, flashlights, and candles
2. sleeping bags for all travelers
3. two shovels and an axe
4. a canvas tarp or tent
5. a compass
6. picture wire for snares

All students traveling out of their sites on school sponsored trips, no matter the means of travel, shall carry a sleeping bag or blankets, even on a day trip. 

The excitement of living in the bush. :)

When I am weak, then am I strong

George Earviak, a husband and father in Newtok, took 2 of his 4 kids (George Jr, age 10 and Teddy, age 8) out on the snow machine to check their black fish trap. They left Friday morning and never returned. The village had several search and rescue volunteers that went out, searching for 2 days but had no luck. After the first unsuccessful day the Tribal Council called for the Coast Guard and Air Force. Saturday there were several planes flying over the village and the tundra, looking for any sign of survival. Sunday morning I went outside and saw Grant ride up on his snow machine. He came over and talked for a while - he had been out searching and the men just found the Earviak’s snow machine submerged in a pond right behind the airport. The whole village had been on their toes, holding their breath for the past 2 days. When Grant told us this, our hearts fell to our stomachs. If the snow machine was in a pond, they would be too. And there is no way anyone would be alive after 2 days in that water. So without stating the obvious, we all knew what that meant. It was so sad hearing Grant say “If only I had dug around in the snow over there... or walked up to the airport that day...”

The tension had been so great during the wait that it was almost unbearable. My roommate (Naomi) and I decided to clean the house - actually, it’s never been cleaner. We decorated for Christmas early and tried not to think about what state the Earviaks were in. Whenever someone gets lost or stranded out on the tundra, you feel guilty about staying indoors, in a safe, warm place.

There’s a teacher who doesn’t have a VHF, who taught George Jr. last year, so I went over to break the news to her. I hated to do it but it was either that or she would find out at school the next morning. We had a brief staff meeting and Grant, a Native, told us it’s okay to talk about what happened and reiterate the importance of safety.

Me and Naomi were actually glad our snow machine is not completely fixed yet. There were lots of times I’ve wanted to ride it this fall, and that could have very easily been me. Yall know how crazy I can get out there. Many larger ponds look as if they’re frozen and I’ve been on lots of hikes walking across solid ponds, and actually have fallen through a couple of waist deep ponds. I know compared to the Natives I am ignorant about what it takes to survive here. I can be naive and careless, and I cringe when I think about all the times I could have died, and almost did, but didn’t.

Paula, the teacher from Louisiana, has been here 8 years, longer than any other teacher. She’s watched these kids grow since they were babies. What’s hard is that there is no real outlet, no real break, no time to stop and regroup. If you need to stay home a day, the only choice for a sub is a villager, which seems cruel to ask them to fill in. When I first saw Paula after the tragedy, the first thing she said to me was “please don’t fall in a frozen pond.” We both knew I’ve been lucky. I nodded and vowed to myself be more careful.

How these people can be so strong and resilient astounds me. There are (was) 320 people living in this village. They say every year someone has an accident or gets lost in a blizzard out there. Sometimes they make it, sometimes they don’t. I can’t explain enough how hard a life it is here, especially for the Natives. Their subsistence lifestyles, the brutal environment, no plumbing or running water, the erosion destroying the land. This year especially has been purely brutal with loss and no hope for the depressed. The teenager committing suicide, several other suicide attempts, the school aide who died with a heart attack, Joann died with cancer, the deaths of family members in other villages (3 this week), a brutal torture and murder of a man known in Newtok (but happened in Bethel), and now this. The loss of a dad and 2 of his sons. His daughter, Agnes, is 13 and in my junior high reading class. I can’t imagine carrying on in her shoes! The Yupik are tough people. You have to be in order to survive out here.

I know I’ve only known these people for 2 years but it’s still tough. To just pick up and have to push on, one bad event after the next, I’m not gonna lie -  it’s just plain hard. I want to be there emotionally for the students but I also have to take care of myself, which is something I’ve learned the hard way. There comes a point when you get numb for survival’s sake and just zone out. My mind shuts off when it’s overloaded with pain and I have to keep teaching and carrying on, but at the same time I try and focus on what really matters. I don’t look at the details, I have to look at the big picture. That helps. Life can be so dismal here. It’s so fragile, and you have no choice but to keep going. I mean, I have a life outside the village, which, along with God, is what keeps me going. I can’t fathom living this hard life all out - the pain seems too much to bear. My heart and prayers go out to the villagers. We all need a respite.

But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
   
    2 Corinthians 12:9-10

A Tribute to Nassa

I wrote in an earlier blog entry that Peter (Yupik name is Nassa), a student of mine last year, committed suicide over the summer. His family, classmates, and friends have had a rough year without him. Well, I had written a couple of songs for my family and made some videos, so my roommate, who teaches writing, wanted the kids to write song lyrics. Then we decided to make it a project. I taught the students how to make a video and they had some fun with it. So the point of explaining that... a couple of high school boys wrote a song dedicated to the memory of Peter. We showed the class the video with their song, and after it was over, every person in the room was near tears. It was so touching - the raw emotion and sincerity was palpable. It was so somber. 

What was I suppose to say at this point? I went to the front of the class and just stood there wiping the tears away, and I felt so sorry for those kids. They have hard lives, and even though I have days where I just want to pull my hair out, I know that they have to deal with hardships I couldn’t even imagine when I was a kid. 

So that’s what I told them. I also told them that I had lost a relative when I was young, and I never understood why. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through, but my mom gave me some advice once, that when a child of God dies young, their Spirit remains young. It’s hard now, it’s unfair, it doesn’t make sense - but we’re not meant to know everything. We just have to be patient. Heaven needs both old and young people. Now, I’m not sure if Peter was a child of God, but that need for salvation definitely opened these students’ eyes. We discussed what Heaven would be like and I was so, so, so happy to see them hopeful and more optimistic about life. 

They wanted to watch the video again, so we did. This time I got goosebumps because the whole class started singing along. The song mentions they hope to see Peter at the Golden Gates. I told them before I had to move to my next class to make sure they go through those Gates one day - make sure you’re right with God before you leave this life. 

I know I’m not the greatest teacher, but I know these kids need more than knowledge of books. So I don’t regret a minute being real with these kids, being open and honest, talking about what needs to be addressed. 

The boys who wrote the song and made the video asked if there was a way to put it online. They wanted so much to make this dedication a lasting tribute, so of course I said I would upload it for them. You can watch the video at the link below, and while you watch it, say a prayer that these students will find the peace that comes with being a child of God. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xsaQ5ARVoB8