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

Amazing

Go and be

Nothing less than you

'Cause you begin in Him

He'll show you what you need to know

To go and be

Every single day

Go and be

-Audio Adrenaline, “Go and Be”

Since I moved to Alaska, more often than not, I feel like I’m living in a book. I knew from the beginning this adventure was God’s. I came here to spread my wings spiritually and to answer God’s calling when He said, “go unto all the world...”

I can tell you without a doubt in my mind God means it when He says He will never leave you. When He promised us the Spirit to guide us, He kept His promise. And when Paul said with HIM, all things are possible, that’s the absolute truth.

I’ve never been the kind of person to talk much, and when I do have something to say, it’s hard for me to find the right words. So when I am faced with an opportunity to share Christ with others and be His Light, I know it’s God that speaks for me. I haven’t a clue what I would say otherwise, and thankfully He knows that. But God has a history of using the seemingly insignificant people, those who are incapable in the world’s eyes, those who are least likely to succeed in being His hands and feet – Moses, Paul, David, and the mere fisherman that became His disciples, to name a few. 

The more I live the more I realize how unworthy and pitiful I am on my own, and the more God is glorified when He uses me. Countless times He has opened doors, provided opportunities to witness, to comfort the hurting, encourage the feeble, and glorify Him. And I’m not kidding when I say He speaks for me, the Spirit completely in charge, giving me words to say that I wouldn’t know otherwise. All I can say is I’m humbled and unworthy, nevertheless amazed and awed by His ability to not just BE, but to GO and MOVE. When we as Christians are 100% willing to be used by Him, and trust that He will come through and be the backbone of everything we do, the results are simply astounding. 

One instance occurred when I flew to Bethel - I ran into a father who leaves his family for weeks at time to get drunk with his wife. I won’t go into great detail here but we had an intense conversation. He was completely broken. I was led by God to speak with Him, led by Him to physically embrace him, to touch his face, to be there with him and pray for him. And that physical connection, and by acknowledging him, not just walking by like everyone else – was all it took to awaken him to reality. I told him his family needed him, and he was on the verge of tears at this point. He was genuinely ashamed, and when God moved through me and thus moved the man, I witnessed a miracle. I saw his brokenness turn to shame, and that shame turn to hope. I looked in his eyes and smiled, and he smiled back. God was glorified and HIS hope was discovered. How humbled I was to be God’s instrument. I certainly have no ability but to be willing and courageous.

That particular day was especially blessed. All I could do was just praise God. Half an hour later, I walked to a restaurant, and saw another villager, suffering from the same pain that alcohol has put on her family. We sat down and had lunch together and had some deep conversation, getting pretty darn personal and passionate. I mean, what are the odds!? How incredible is God, seriously. Alone, I am incapable, inadequate, and insecure. But the Holy Spirit is alive and at work, turning mistakes into miracles and proving there is nothing impossible. All glory belongs to God.

Hiking Myself Into Trouble

Fun story-

I took a hike for quite a while until I came to a stream, the same stream that I fell through the ice last year. It’s only waist deep but very cold! It’s probably a few miles from the village but I wondered if I should turn around and head back – my roommate would be expecting me soon and it was getting colder and darker. But I didn’t want to give in and go back. Sometimes you get that feeling like you can’t do something, and I hate that feeling. It’s why, often times, I wind up doing something stupid just to prove my own doubts wrong. You can see where this is going….

thoroughly whooped by Alaska's wilderness
....and yet I still smile.

Anyway, once that negative thought came in my head there was nothing I could do but keep going. The stream is at least 10 feet across, so I backed up and took a running jump, and landed on the slanting bank, consequently sinking towards the water. The bank (and much of the land beyond this stream) is clay and mud, and it’s pretty much impossible to walk through. You sink, and while you’re trying to get your foot out, your other one gets stuck. The clay is what makes you stick when you’ve sunk. So I was trying to climb the bank because I wasn’t in warm enough clothes to fall in the water, although I did wind up getting my entire left leg soaked. Anyway, I finally was able to climb up to level ground. But now I was surrounded by this clay-mud. Each step takes at least a minute just from trying to pull your foot up. This wears down your muscles after a few minutes, and it throws off your balance. So after a while I decided to head to my right because I could see grass in that direction. Well, the turn didn’t go so well. My right foot was stuck pretty good – my foot almost came out of my boot and I couldn’t even move it an inch. When I tried to put my left foot ahead and to the right, facing the different direction, I lost my balance and fell over. The wind wasn’t any help at all. Well, I never expect to stay clean on my hikes, which is a good thing. It turned out great because it was much easier to crawl out than walk out. Once I got to the grass I decided I did enough hiking for the day. I felt completely stupid, once again, for assuming I can overcome the obstacles of nature. This really is a merciless environment, and I’ve lived and hiked here enough to know that. Its beauty and thrill is still too much to keep me away, though.

Before I jumped the stream I was carrying a flat piece of wood I found to set up camp somewhere along the way. I do this early in the year, then throughout the year when I go on hikes it’s all ready set up for me to use as a table or rest, watch the waves rolling in or snow falling, watch the birds, and enjoy the peaceful and beautiful scenery. So anyway, I was carrying this piece of wood up until after I jumped over the stream. I managed to hold on to it, and when I finally stood up, I was so proud that I didn’t give up and go back and that I “conquered” the stream that, overcome by the moment, I threw down the piece of wood triumphantly, symbolizing I was capable of roughing it without something to sit on. I know it sounds silly and dramatic… but in the midst of it, when I’m out there in the wilderness, completely isolated and nothing but my own willpower and vigor to keep going, I become overwhelmed with victory and consequently do things like that. :) I guess you have to experience moments like that to understand. But then, I always realize you can never conquer nature. Immediately after I had my little victory ceremony is when I got stuck in the clay-mud. Living among the Eskimos, you learn great respect for the land. Nature is never “conquered” – now, it may allow you to come out alive or even unscathed, but we – I – should never underestimate the brutality of nature! Beautiful, adventurous, and fun though it may be, it can also be merciless. 

I’ve been very fortunate not to have ever come across a fox with rabies or some other wild animal on my hikes alone, because they are pretty common here. People keep telling me I shouldn’t walk so far out and that I shouldn’t go alone, and that may be true, but I do carry protection. All the same, I may be young, stupid, and naive, but God is still looking out for me.

I finally made it back to Newtok, trudging with the extra pounds of clay plastered all over my body and pretty cold. Of course I had to run into most of my colleagues. Kevin came out and called me back, wanting to know why I was covered in mud. Paula was sitting there laughing at me, and Grant came over and got the story first-hand. Anyway, they know how I am and they get some good laughs over my adventures, and so do I! And like always, I don’t regret going. It was lots of fun and it sure makes me respect the wilderness all the more. 

 

Almost Homeless!

Well, my latest adventure tops all traveling adventures so far in the bush. It’s common knowledge among all bush teachers that you just have to accept being uncomfortable, traveling by the seat of your pants and thinking on your feet. So here’s how it went down:

My original plans were to leave Thursday morning for Bethel, on my way to a literacy conference in Girdwood (outside of Anchorage). I had a schedule of when I was to do certain things, getting ready for this trip. Quarter 1 grades are due Thursday, so I spent Tuesday evening getting those submitted. Wednesday I was going to make sup plans and pack, and this is also my allotted time for laundry. So I had clothes washing while talking to some other teachers, just hanging out in the hall. It was around 5:00. My flight schedule came up and they all wondered why I wasn’t flying out that night – apparently the weather was suppose to be pretty bad in the morning, which means I would miss the flight and the whole trip would be off. I had no idea about the weather conditions, and I admit that was stupid of me not to check. So anyway, right then I had to make some phone calls. The aviation desk said there was room for me on the evening flight, they had already left for Newtok, and the plane would be there in 15 minutes. YIKES!

Talk about bad timing. I had laundry on, no sub plans made, no papers printed for the sub like I was planning on doing.... I hadn't packed, I had NO reservations in Bethel for staying the night, and no one was expecting me until the morning. So I grabbed by laundry bag and just threw it in the back of my classroom. I had to leave my clothes in the laundry, which is where having a roommate comes in handy. I ran home, grabbed a backpack, threw some clothes in it, and sprinted to the airport, which would take about 10 minutes if you were walking. I know from experience bush planes don’t wait long for you. We made some stops in other villages, dropping off freight and picking up a few people.

So I eventually arrived in Bethel, scheduled my return flight and paid for the tickets, and had absolutely no plans as to where I was going. I called every Bethel contact in my phone but not one person answered the call! I didn’t know how to get to my Bethel buddies’ houses so that was out of the question. Next, I got my computer and looked up all the hotels in Bethel. I made my way down the list of hotels, trying to find an empty room, and couldn’t believe everything was taken! The very last hotel on my list – yes, this is dramatic but completely true…(Tundra Suites), I was a bit hopeful – the guy didn’t speak very good English, but from what I gathered, there was one room available, but I had to be there in person to book it. So I grabbed my backpack and hailed a cab. He had to make a few stops on the way and I was praying that room was still available. He finally dropped me off and I ran up to the door, which was locked. I tried to get the guys attention, and he came to a window, stuck his head out and said something that sounded like “Too noisy! No rooms!” and shut the window.

So there I was, standing out in the cold, the darkness starting to settle in, and with nowhere to go. Fortunately I noticed I wasn’t too far from a store, so I walked over and started assessing my options. I wound up buying some trail mix for dinner, and was steeling myself for asking someone if I could crash on their couch… but no one seemed the type to be very welcoming. Someone put it this way once: “Bethel is the armpit of Alaska.” So then I was planning on camping out somewhere, maybe at the back of a building. It was pretty cold out but I could manage. So I grabbed a bag of cough drops and a water bottle and checked out. Then I got a call from a friend and teacher in Newtok, asking how I was doing, and I explained my situation. She said she would call back with a phone number, which she did, but there was no answer there either. Arg. My friend called again, and said I should try the high school – there might be someone at the district office to open the door. I had my doubts, as it was late by now, but I was willing to try. So I walked the mile over to the district office and banged on the door, and no one answered. So again, I planned on camping out beside this door, because I figured it was safer than anywhere else.

But then I spotted a man walk by carrying a big box, and immediately I called out, “Excuse me sir! Do you work here?” He did. I explained my situation and he gladly opened the door. Phew! Home sweet home away from home. I profusely thanked him and definitely praised God for staying with me and protecting me. I never panicked – I had a peace about it, and was just living the adventure – like I said, it is a crazy happening, yet somewhat normal for bush life. So it has a happy ending. I woke up this morning and found it snowing, the ground covered, so it would have been a rough night had I wound up spending the night outside. We’ll see how the rest of my trip goes – I still had to make some last minute reservations for a car in Anchorage and the hotel in Girdwood. But all is well as of now. :)