Packing Heat?

One of my absolute favorite things about living here is that I can step outside any time and almost immediately find myself in endless expanses of nothingness. Yesterday was no exception. As I walked and ran briskly in my snowshoes, I concentrated on my uncertain footing and the energetic beat of M.I.A. blasting into my earphones, every so often pausing to admire the fiery views of the setting sun. As the sunlight deteriorated, I decided to turn back for home so I found my way back to the road that I knew I could safely follow home, even in the dark.

As I labored along in the below zero temperatures I felt both the sweat pouring down my back and ice accumulating on my eyelashes. As I approached the T intersection in the road, something darted out about 5 yards in front of me. I knew right away that it was not a fox, and it was too big to be a coyote. It was a gray wolf, strangely solo, staring back at me. When he got about 15 yards from me he stopped and monitored me closely with what felt like all of his senses. I wondered if he could feel my fear or hear my heart pounding outside of my chest. Irrationally, I imagined his mouth watering at the sight and smell of my sealskin and beaver laden hat. In my mind I know that wolves take almost no interest in people, but somewhere in the back of it I imagined this worse case scenario unfolding. So, on this deserted road, just for good measure, I repeated in my mind, please God, don't let me get eaten, Please God, don't let me get eaten. After I got a good distance away, and a little way up the gradual hill of the road I turned back only to see that he had returned to our original meeting place at the intersection where he now curiously watched me continue to the village. The next time I turned back around, he was gone.

Natives in the village always encourage me to carry a gun. I always kind of scoff at the idea, thinking that I'd be less safe with a gun, than without. For a brief moment though, I may have considered the idea of packing heat, or learning how to pack heat. Just incase this worse case scenario were ever to actually unfold.

The fiery sunsets that never get old

Winter is Here

Some kids from my class on a "snow-go" today. I love the sleds they pull from behind.


With the amount of time we've been spending outside in well below freezing temperatures, I needed a warmer hat. This hat is made of seal (spotted), beaver (inside) and mink (brown piece on the forehead). It was made by a woman here in the village. I think it's the most beautiful thing I think I've ever owned. I thought I'd have a hard time wearing this piece of art, but once I did, I was a changed woman. It's so soft and warm.

An unfortunate turn of events, for someone.

#1 Cousin : Sara Rose Nejat-Bina

Snow, Fog and No Mail Plane

We now have about 5 feet of soft, white snow blanketing everything. The tundra provides endless expanses of white. It's not the kind of blank white that you might imagine, but a pristine white, with subtle pigments and contrasts from the setting sun, the rising mountains, fog, clouds, trees and anything else that might position itself into the panorama. The undisturbed views bring a sense of comfort, softness and serenity to my heart and mind. Hard to explain but wonderful to feel.

Unfortunately, sometimes we trade beauty and serenity for things like mail, travel and sporting events. The USPS plane has not gotten into the village for a week now and the district wrestling match was cancelled because all flights have been halted. Still, I hardly feel like I'm in a position to complain.

A modest glow from the setting sun off in the distance

Election Time!

One little bonus about living in this remote place is that this past week, while many Americans patiently stood in lines for hours in the elements waiting to submit their ballots, I did not. I walked right up to the Manokotak City Office where they knew me by name and handed me my ballot. I was in and out in about three minutes, which was good, because at 4PM the results were already rolling in. And so I sat glued to my neighbors television in silence, while the magic unfolded. No line at this polling station.

For the first time, I'm living in a place where my political persuasion has been in the minority. Not only is Alaska a traditionally republican state, but the ante was upped this year (especially in this community) by Sarah Palin, who's husband Todd happens to be from Dillingham (our village hub). Many people here in Manokotak are either related to him or know the Palin's personally. As a result, much of the village held a very emotional stake in this election, as did the rest of America.

Speaking of Palin, I scored a few village points for my last minute Halloween costume. Halloween morning, I mentioned to my neighbor that I had considered dressing up as our Governor but then thought better of it. He poked his head in later and said, "Ahh....you couldn't do Palin anyway!" Never one to turn down a good challenge, I instantly began brainstorming potential Palinesque ensembles. At lunch, I ran home, cut myself some bangs, borrowed some rimless glasses, dug out my flag pin and dusted off my otherwise dormant red, patin leather peep toe high heels. Since my wardrobe change happened at lunch, our afternoon was shot. The kids kept calling me Sarah Palin and asking hypothetical questions like "Does Sarah Palin like it when I do my best on math?" or "Does Sarah Palin know what 15 x 25 is?" I quickly realized my pleas for order were for not as the distractions continued with several other interruptions from teachers bringing their classes in as well as other staff and community members who excitedly came into my classroom exclaiming, "Look, it's Sarah Palin! Hi Sarah Palin!" For the rest of the day and into our evening carnival I was referred to only as "Sarah Palin!"

I had to kick off the high heals by the evening for the carnival.