In this tiny community, I've formed friendships, deep friendships with a few people who, anywhere else I might not have. Unlike Minneapolis or New York, here I didn't get choices for friends, I got a handful of people who I've learned to accept and they've (fortunately) learned to accept me. We argue about politics, religion, education and life. We discuss news articles and watch movies, have game nights and convene for "interactive pizza night". We go fishing on weekends and set up camp at our nowhere spot where we roast hotdogs and compete to create the perfect snow lounger while laughing into the wee hours of the night. I know I can rely on them difficult situations and have been in a few where my life might have depended on them. These are people who had I met in almost any other situation I might have unconsciously dismissed as conflicting personalities. Thankfully, living here, we didn't have that choice.
We have only six weeks left, and while cabin fever might be beginning to set in, I am also at a bit of a loss. Sadly, I will return here next year not having the same companions and company who I will leave. Two of my best friends won't be returning. At first I felt heartbroken and sad, now I just feel lucky. Lucky to have had a year of practically impossible memories with people whose paths mine otherwise would not have crossed.
When our time is over here, I think we'll recall the sometimes hard and lonely times, but mostly, I think we'll all remember this dreamlike existence when we lived together in a community who accepted us like family, on a hill beneath a tiny mountain and we'll love every last memory. I already do.
Drying gloves by the fire
Typical
Only our tracks
Our camp spot in the trees
The views surrounding
Summer. August 15, 2008. My first day in Manokotak. That's the school and my house off the the right. Beautiful, lush greens. 
Fall. I love those clouds. 
Winter. Kids playing with an old dogsled and a snow-go. It's been interesting to witness the collision of native culture with the 21st century. 
Spring. Today we were supposed to go "clamming" in Nushagak Bay. Conditions area almost ideal now, because we have a negative tide and the ground is still frozen enough to make it there by snowmobile (albeit questionable). I was told to bring a five-gallon bucket and something long and metal, like a kitchen knife to break through the top layer of ice and grab the clam, identifiable by their little bubbles. A group of people went yesterday but it sounds like the bay was still too frozen to break through the ice. We might try again this evening. We have daylight now until 11 p.m.
