Acclimation Updates

It is 28*F in Bethel today, and has been around that temperature for a few days now. 28*F is now my definition of positively balmy weather. I carried the garbage down the road to the dumpster last night in a t-shirt and was completely comfortable. I would also like to point out that 28*F is exactly the temperature in Rockaway, NJ today. Solidarity! (Doubtful that you wimps are wearing t-shirts, though.)

Also, because of the warm weather, Bethel has become a slushy mess. Walking to work is much more difficult this week, due to slush, than it has been in previous weeks with windchills of negative 20*F. I am looking forward to when temperatures drop again and everything freezes. Then, I will be able to walk to work without taking my life in my hands.

Lastly, this Sunday is the winter solstice! That means that here in Bethel we will have approximately 4-5 hours of sunlight. Lately, the sun has been rising between 10:15a and 10:45a and setting by 5p, with twilight beginning around 3:30p. Yes, this means most days, I go to work in the pitch dark and walk home in the dark. While it makes getting out of bed that much more difficult, I have noticed something really cool that I would never be able to see anywhere else: often, while I am walking down the block to the courthouse for a morning hearing, I will be able to see the moon on one side of the sky and the sunrise on another. Amazing. Anyway, as for the solstice, my community and I have decided that we want to spend as much of the sunlight hours outside on Sunday, and will probably be building a snowman to rival all snowmen. (Or, a snowperson to rival all snowpeople, for the politically correct.)

And, a few things to check out:

www.goeok.blogspot.com - this is my roommate Erin's blog, and I highly suggest you all check out her most recent post (12/16/08). It is about Marvin, a Bethel dog who has become very near and dear to our hearts. I was going to write a post almost identical, and then she beat me to it. So, I direct you all there to share in my life.

www.servicenation.org - stories of service from volunteers of all kinds, all over the world. Servicenation is a campaign to inspire volunteer citizen service across the country, in many different capacities. JVC has asked me to post a reflection about my job under the "stories of service" tab, because my job is very unique - both because I'm here in Bethel, and because I work for a state agency. Keep an eye out.

The Day of Giving Thanks

I just wanted to offer you all physical proof that I cooked a turkey. Below are some pictures of the Bethel JVs' Thanksgiving.

Still baking...looks good, yea?

The final product.

So pleased with myself.

Our table, and apparently Anthony is the only one ready to eat.

Wishbone! (I won. Boo-yah.)The aftermath.

The Most Ridiculous Three Hours

This past Friday night/Saturday morning, I experienced what can probably be considered the most ridiculous three hours of my life. I'm going to share this story with all of you because a) it's a funny story and b) I really want to remember it when I am old and grey, and what better way to do that than immortalize it on the internet? I will start from the verrrrry beginning.

Things you need to know to fully experience this story:
1. I had work the day after Thanksgiving and was EXHAUSTED by the time dinner was over on Friday.
2. Bethel has a limo service. Bethel also has only 6 miles of paved road. Make your own conclusions about how these two facts fit together.
3. In the winter, the Kuskokwim River freezes over and becomes a state highway.

At 9p on Friday, November 28 I was wearing pajamas, my down parka, gloves, and hat. I had car keys in hand and was ready to go up to the house we were housesitting at to go to bed. I had every intention of being asleep by approximately 11p. My roommate Fran was also tired and decided to join me. Our friend Bethy did not agree with this plan. As we walked out of the house, we heard a lot of this, "You're lame! Come to the party at Ryan and Jitka's! It's a Friday night!", etc., etc. Once we got to the house, we even received a phone call from our friends Lisa and Andrew, echoing the same sentiments (except they did so in song). Fran and I convinced ourselves that we are not lame, and I acheived my goal of passing out in front of the TV at 10:30p.

Fast forward to 4a. I am still asleep on the couch. Fran has moved into the bedroom. All of a sudden, I am roused by the sound of shuffling and voices in the back hallway. Our friends, Bethy, Anthony, and Ryan had bust through the side door and were yelling, "Hey, wake up, come on out, we have the limo!" After a lot of confusion and eye-rubbing, Fran and I looked out the window to confirm that, yes, our friends had gotten drunk at Ryan and Jitka's house and actually chartered Bethel's stretch hummer limo for a very early morning ride around Bethel. And what did they decide to do once they were inside the limo? Come get Fran and I, of course.

After about 5 minutes in the house, Anthony and Bethy both sat down on the couches and fell asleep. Fran and I decided to seize this opportunity to take their seats in the limo. We grabbed our coats and jumped in. The limo was ridiculous. It had colored flourescent lights, a strobe light, and KARAOKE! At 4:45a on Saturday, I found myself singing "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" in the back of a hummer limo in Bethel, AK, with Ryan, Jitka, Fran, and Ryan's brother Mike who was visiting for Thanksgiving. Absurd.

The limo brought us back to Ryan and Jitka's. Fran and I asked James, the gracious driver, to bring us over to our house, but time was up. We decided to stay at their house, rather than walk back to ours at 5 in the morning. Jitka went right to bed because she had 9a EMT class. Ryan, Mike, Fran, and I stayed awake, just chatting. About every 3 minutes during our conversation, Ryan would suggest that we take his car, drive on the river highway, and go to Kwethluk, a village upriver from Bethel. Fran and I continued to shut down this suggestion because we were wary about driving on the river. That, and Ryan was drunk, so we weren't putting too much stock in his suggestions.

I'm not really sure what changed our minds, but after about a half hour, Fran and I gave in. Fran had the balls to volunteer to drive on the Kuskokwim, so the four of us piled into Ryan's car and off we went. We followed the river highway (aka tire tracks) west to Oscarville, the closest village to Bethel. We drove off the river and were almost immediately in the center of the village. We got out of the car, walked around a little, and got back in. (Anti-climatic, I know. Sorry!) We hadn't had our fill for the morning, so we pressed on.

Ten minutes later we were in Napaskiak, the next village off the Kuskokwim. This village was far more interesting. We drove on the boardwalk (intended for snow-go's), took pictures in front of the post office (to prove we made it there), and played on the playground (because it was fun). After that, we got back on the river and headed toward home. What followed was probably the coolest part of the whole morning.

About halfway back to Bethel, we decided to stop the car, hop out, and look at the stars. (Fran, always the safe driver, was sure to put her blinker on and pull safely out of the tire tracks.) It was absolutely amazing. I've literally never seen a sky so big and so full of stars. It really felt like we were surrounded by stars on all sides. Fran, Mike, and I laid in the snow and just breathed in the cold, the dark, and the beauty. Awesome is the only word to describe it.

We made it safely back to Ryan and Jitka's house by about 7a, thus completing my most ridiculous three hours ever. I rode in Bethel's one and only limo, tripled my village count, and experienced breathtaking beauty. Not too shabby for a boring night in.

Cucuklillruunga!

"Cucuklillruunga" is the Yupik word meaning "I voted." Tuesday, I did my civic duty and voted in my second presidential election. And, while I am ecstatic with the results, I'm not writing this post to gloat or to advertise my own politics. Instead, I wanted to use this space to reflect on what it felt like to vote from somewhere that is so isolated from the rest of the United States.

Honestly, I haven't felt very isolated here in Bethel. I still read the news everyday, and keep in close contact with family and friends. Despite geography, I've never felt too far "off the map." Granted, I've definitely realized that many of the resources available in other places aren't available here (more to come on that in another post), but that has never made me feel isolated - it is just our reality here. However, on Tuesday, watching the election results roll in, I felt truly isolated for the first time.

After work on Tuesday, my roommates, a few of our friends, and I went up to Kasayuli (a Bethel subdivision) to the house we're housesitting. We took advantage of the leather couches and flat screen TV and put on CNN, watching each state change from grey to yellow to the ultimate blue or red. Keep in mind, that the end of our work day was 9p EST, so many states were already declared by the time we started watching. We sat there in anticipation, watching the electoral votes tally. And the whole time, Alaska remained at the corner of the map, cloaked in grey - grey, signifying that the polls were not yet closed. Grey, signifying that the votes hadn't been counted.

Senator Barack Obama was named our president-elect at approximately 8p AST. My friends and community-mates and I yelled and toasted and jumped up and down. I even cried watching Obama's acceptance speech, thinking that this would be one of those moments that I would always remember - a day that history was made. But in the back of my head, I couldn't help wondering, "What about my vote?" Alaska's polls hadn't even closed by the time Obama was named our next president. So, in reality, the vote I cast here in Alaska had no effect on the ultimate outcome of the election. It was not even counted before the ultimate decision was made. This realization went against all my views of our election process.

All day on Tuesday, when I called my clients, I excitedly asked them, "Did you vote? Are you going to vote? Are you excited?!" And, despite my own sentiment, nothing wore off on them. I heard responses like, "No, I don't vote. Nothing ever changes here, why should I vote." All day, I tried to talk them out of it, using my youthful idealism as a tool. I talked about civic duty, and the opportunity to change things, and the one tool that we are all given. They weren't having it. And, after watching the results pour in, I can't say I blame them completely. These people have grown up in a place that is ignored by the rest of the United States, most of them in situations that more closely resemble those in a third-world country than the rest of the US. And, sadly, they are right. Nothing on a federal level effects them. As Sylvia, the legal assistant in my office who grew up in Kasigluk (a village in the YK Delta) so wisely put it, "The only thing that changes for us is the size of our dividend. Life does not change. The issues do not change."

Now, I am not saying I approve of not casting a vote. However, after Tuesday, things are feeling very bittersweet for me here in Bethel. I am overjoyed at the turn the United States has taken, but very dismayed by the sobering reality that Alaska will always remain a "grey" state - both in its own eyes and in the eyes of the rest of the country.

Life in the YK Delta

In the past few days, I have been chastised by multiple family members and friends. Apparently, I don't blog enough. Because I only want to appease my many adoring fans, here is the story of my recent trip to Napakiak, a village of 400 people about 15 miles from Bethel. One of the attorneys, Chris, and I traveled to Napakiak to visit a client. He has a hearing coming up to regain custody of his children and we wanted to make sure his housing is adequate, see how he is engaged in the community, and talk to his support system there.

Getting to Napakiak was an adventure in and of itself. We tried to get there two times the week previous, and both times our flights were cancelled due to weather. After approximately 8 hours of waiting over the three days, I have become very well acquainted with the Grant Aviation hangar. It's actually harder to fly to places closer to Bethel in bad weather because you can't fly above the clouds - if you did you would overshoot your destination. You're probably asking yourself why it was necessary to fly to a place 15 miles away to begin with. There are no roads in and out of Bethel besides the Kuskokwim River, so unless Chris and I wanted to freeze our butts off on the river (which is what I did actually want to do - last time on the river before it freezes!) flying was our main mode of transportation. We could have hiked it across the tundra, but it would have taken us about 8 hours longer than the flight, so we exnayed that option as well. I really want to hike it on snowshoes later in the year, so perhaps that will be another post.

The plane was awesome. It was a 6 seater charter plane, and we could see everything from up in the air. On the flight back, I even got to sit in the front seat next to the pilot. AWESOME. Despite the fact that I was given explicit instructions not to touch anything, I still felt important.

Once we landed, the first thing Chris and I did was look around the "airport." It was a runway with a shed next to it. We were picked up by David, who works for Grant Aviation. I called shotgun on his 4-wheeler, meaning I got to sit on the back of the 4-wheeler while Chris had to crouch in the small trailer behind us, along with the luggage that was being transported. Chris is 6'4", so that was pretty comical.

We tooled around the village for the day, meeting with our client, his mom, his girlfriend, and the Napakiak ICWA (Indian Child Welfare Act) worker. Napakiak has an ICWA office, 2 stores, a municipal building, a water and sewer building, a school, and a bingo hall. We saw it all. Our client also brought us down to the river to show us his boat, along with the other boats that are tied there.

The trip to Napakiak was wonderful. I felt very grateful to be given the opportunity to meet one of my clients face to face and be invited into his everyday life. Also, seeing Napakiak, which is a pretty standard sized village in the YK Delta, was a real gift because now I have a much better idea of what reality is like for my clients. I have seen where they live and can better understand what they are dealing with when they talk about village life. It was so interesting to see the way community works in a place that is so small and disconnected from what most would call modern society. Most people have never heard of Napakiak, AK, but life there is an example of reality for thousands of people that are forgotten about, both in Alaska and the lower 48.

(This is Newtok, a neighboring village, not Napakiak.)

(Sorry that none of these pictures are all that clear. It's difficult to take pictures from a moving plane/while walking.)

Pictures and Politics

Here are some pictures of Sunday's frost and this morning's SNOW! Yes, write it on your calendars, folks. Thursday, Oct. 2 is the day of Bethel's first sticking snow this winter. When we woke up, the tundra was covered in a fine dusting. Everything is reeeeaally pretty.

Also, notes on how incredibly Alaskan I am:

- this weekend my roommates and I chopped wood. A lot of wood. Now, by"chopped wood,"I mean we ripped apart pallets with hammers and one blunt axe. We're definitely not done, but we made a good dent in our pile. My entire body is sore from the effort.

- last Monday, I ate moose meat for dinner. It was delicious and tasted kind of like pot roast.

-yesterday, my roommate Jon brought home a MOOSE HOOF!! No joke. It's sitting in our freezer, complete with fur. It wasn't bloody, but you can see cartilage and stuff. Ew and awesome at the same time.

-I am going to learn how to bead. Beading (making bracelets, earrings, pins, etc. out of small, multicolored beads) is really big in Yupik culture. Wassilene, our administrative assistant, is a seasoned beader and is going to come over to the JV house one of these days and teach us how to bead.

-Tomorrow I am taking a prop plane to Napakiak, a small village about 10 minutes upriver to visit a client. I will get to sit in the front seat of the plane. EEEE! Expect pictures and stories after that.

-I am now a certified Alaska state registrar. If you are reading this from Alaska and haven't registered to vote yet, come to me. If you are reading this from another state and haven't registered to vote yet, GET MOVING! Seriously, there is no excuse (short of being under the age of 18) for not voting in a presidential election. Get out there, people! And, watch the debates, presidential and vice-presidential. I will step off my soap box now.

And, one more thing. Kevin, we don't really have cars. We were lucky enough to have cars lent to us. We do, however, have a Yeti that we keep out back.

Goodbye, Fall!

Friday morning we had to scrape frost off the car windows before leaving for work.

Sunday morning the whole tundra was frosted over. (This includes my wet sneakers, which I left outside.)

Today, it snowed in Bethel. SNOWED. Yowza.

(Pictures and more life updates will show soon, I promise.)