Dumb Luck

Travel in and out of Manokotak can be very complicated and is limited to water (in summer) and air. Road access in and out of Manokotak does not exist. Many factors can complicate water travel. Weather and tide can be both a blessing and a curse, depending on timing, skill, luck and probably which side of the holy spirit you happen to be on. Early in the morning, the tide is high. In the afternoon and evening, tide is low. If you travel by water, it's best to travel during high tide or you risk getting sucked back out to the sea, the Bearing Sea.

Last weekend, my friend Kirk was travling to Dillingham (the hub of the bush villages, about 80 miles away by water) to sell his boat. So, Sunday morning I woke up at 4 am, ran (by headlamp) the five miles to Kirk's house where four of us piled onto his four wheeler to tow his flat bottomed skiff boat to the river. We sped down the Weary and Snake Rivers to the Bearing Sea before heading northeast to Dillingham. As we cruised along, the sun climbed up, over the horizon and off in the distance we could see the outlines of beluga whales.

We arrived in Dillingham, cold, thrilled and borderline giddy, spending paper money and shopping at a grocery store for the first time since our arrival in July. Then, as if things couldn't have gotten any better, just by chance, we met a contractor in who happened to be chartering a plane to Manokotak (go figure) and he invited us to travel with him.

This day, the best day of my life, which seems more like a dream now, was unplanned, and based mostly on luck, chance and almost completely on the goodness in other people. It was also free, well, except for the groceries and the ultra-trashy People magazine. Unbelievable.

Jeof and Kirk starting the engines
Our plane back to Manokotak
I sat in the jump seat (shotgun). Looks a little like an Atari.

We Learn Something New Everyday

Today I walked down to the Weary River. We started off through the tundra around noon and arrived at the river a few hours later. On the way we ran into two men who were looking for “chocolate lilies.” One guy held out his hand with a dirty white root in it for me to taste. My eyes wide, chocolate on my mind, I sunk my teeth in. Definitely not chocolate. Being me, sometimes a little too eager and interested, I asked a lot of questions about the process, it’s something I’m working on NOT doing quite as much here. The Yup’ik culture is one of few words, showing, not so much telling. Instead of describing the process in depth as I might have myself, he just pointed to the fireweed, then to the dead “bell shaped” plant next to it, pulled it up and sure enough, three little chocolate lily bulbs. It tasted more like a really strong radish that left a little bit of a film in my mouth. Fifteen minutes later I could still taste it. He was making a soup with his bulbs. He also said that it could be dried and ground up into a powder for seasoning. As we parted ways he smiled and said, “learn something new everyday, don’t we?”

Weary River at low tide. When it's high tide in the evening this river is swells several feet higher. The boat in the photo is about 15 or 20 feet out of the water. Within hours of this photo, the boat would have been floating.

Fall

Right now the sun is setting around 10 pm. When I first arrived here at the end of July, the sunset at about 3am. My internal clock was all messed up. We’re approaching the equinox now, which means that we start loosing daylight really quickly. Right now we’re loosing about six minutes each day.
Fall Colors
Last night was a perfect evening. The temperature was about 45 degrees, the air was brisk and the smell of crisping leaves was among us. Of all the seasons, there is something very special about the fall. Here, we trade the maple trees of north, for the bright shades of gold and red that blanket the tundra with fireweed and tall grass. I realize that for me life here is still very new and exciting, and I don't doubt that it will get tough, but most days I still can’t believe I get to exist here. People who have been here several years often offer warnings beginning with “just wait until … then it’s not so great.” But until “that” happens, whatever it is, that leads to this apparently inevitable letdown; I'm going to do my best to continue to enjoy the hell out of myself and bask in the contentment that this simple life brings.

Rain

It's the rainy season. I've heard that this season lasts for several weeks, most of the fall. Most days look like the photos above. With the rain, the tundra is turning magnificent shades of reds and golds, browns and greens. It's captivating and mesmerizing and I never get sick of gazing out across the tundra or looking up at the mountains. Nothing ever looks the same as it did the last time I checked. The views change constantly with the elements. As usual, the colors of a photograph cannot compare to those of Mother Nature. Wish you could see it for yourself.

Rustic Living

Our new shelves! Notice the tree bolted into the wood


Detail of the bolted, dying tree branch


Our our food supply for the year. Pasta, lentils, beans, dry milk, PB&J and miscilanous tomatoes are the big winners here


We were really lucky and got the newest, nicest teacher housing, probably in the entire district. The only downside to that was that we didn't have much shelving. So one night I went out scavenging for some nice flat rocks and some boards. As I was scrounging through the scrap pile, one of the carpenters approached me. I told him my vision of boards stacked on rocks. He laughed and said that it wouldn't be "fashionable" enough for us. Anyway, we fed him some dinner and he built us a few shelves. Here's the one he built above our washer and dryer.

I asked for rustic.

Facing the Music in Bush Alaska

This is pretty characteristic hiking in Manokotak

Time is like money. The more you have of it, the more you spend. I thought about it, and last year I was commuting at least two hours each day. That’s 10 hours a week, which means that now I should have a surplus of 40 hours a month, but I don’t feel like I do. My days are still full until the wee hours of the night; they are just packed with really different forms of “entertainment” than in New York City.

Here are a few of my favorite “different” activities:

Berry Picking
This is becoming an obsession. Somehow I feel like my womanhood is being measured by how many blueberries I’ve foraged. And I’ve foraged a lot. Gallons. Believe it.

Hiking
There are endless places to hike and climb, plenty of goals to be set, but “trails” don’t exist. “Bushwhacking” through the tall, thick brush and walking across the marshy tundra is the only way and it never gets old, just hard. See photo.

Cooking
Planning elaborate meals and cooking with our very basic food supply is usually challenging and bizarre but always turns out much better than expected. We don’t have access to anything but what is in our cupboards, so we use what we have. Right now we’re searching for unique ways to cook our 24 pounds of what I've been calling the perfect food; lentils. Any ideas? Max?

NPR
Ah yes, the radio, and one station: NPR. This is a big favorite, both informative and entertaining. Through NPR, we get a radio station out of Dillingham, AK. KDLG hosts a number of really unique shows. “Open Line” happens throughout the day, which allows its listeners to call in and leave messages for others for any reason. It's like a live answering machine that everyone has access to at the same time. For many, this is how messages are relayed. Nothing is screened, so any number of (painful) verbal catastrophes can unfold live. Just use your imagination. In the evenings, KDLG plays interesting sets. Last night the playlist was entitled, “Music You Can Skin Your Moose To.” It included many songs that were dedicated just that, hunting and moose. Then, there is the “Trading Post,” which is basically the craigslist.com of the bush. The hot items right now to be bartered and sold are berries and “snow-go’s” (snowmobiles). In addition, KDLG also lets its listeners know the schedule of the tide as well as when the sun rises and sets (right now it’s setting at about 10pm).

Yes, life is simple.

Berry Picking

Michelle looks at storms in the distance. Even though they were coming our way, she didn't seem to mind much. She just continued picking in the cold and blowing winds.

This morning as I was working in my classroom I was startled by small hands banging on my window. I walked over and saw Michelle, a little girl from my class outside. She wanted to go berry picking. She had two one-gallon buckets which she and her sister were expected to fill. One was designated for blackberries, and the other for blueberries. I was led through a few miles of thick brush until we reached an open spot on the mountain where we sat down for a rest and Akutaq (a-goo-duk). Akutaq is one important use for berries around here. Traditionally, it was eaten by hunters when they were out for long periods of time. It's a mixture of seal oil and sugar with berries (sometimes meat or fish is added). The oil and sugar is mixed and mashed by hand, literally, and then berries are added to it. Salmon berries and blueberries are the most common, but once I also had Akutaq made from ferns that had been ground up. It is a refreshing sweet treat. Today, most people skip the seal oil and use Crisco. I guess importing is easier these days.


She wouldn't quit until her bucket was full.


Somersault on our way down the mountain. This is not recommended.