To Blatantly Steal Content...

The indescribable, unsupressable law student Jen Dz (What the hell is she doing lately? Read her blog, for chrissake!) recently posted a quote that I used to love, but had forgotten all about, and now love once again:

One final paragraph of advice: Do not burn yourselves out. Be as I am -- a reluctant enthusiast... a part-time crusader, a half-hearted fanatic. Save the other half of yourselves and your lives for pleasure and adventure. It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it. While you can. While it's still there. So get out there and hunt and fish and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forests, encounter the grizz, climb the mountains, bag the peaks, run the rivers, breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for a while and contemplate the precious stillness, that lovely, mysterious and awesome space. Enjoy yourselves, keep your brain in your head and your head firmly attached to the body, the body active and alive, and I promise you this much: I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies, over those desk-bound people with their hearts in a safe deposit box and their eyes hypnotized by desk calculators. I promise you this: you will outlive the bastards.

-Ed Abbey

I love that quote. It has a habit of motivating me, if quotes can be said to have habits.

Another Reason I Like the Alaskan Bush...

On most plane flights, you can't even bring knitting needles. On our flight from Bethel to Quinhagak today, the pilot (think quintessential bush pilot character, scruffy beard and all), after giving us the "In case we crash on the tundra, survival gear is under the seat" schpeel, added "And there's a gun under there... take that, because survival food sucks." After the flight, debate ensued... was he implying that we could actually shoot and cook some game (giving our marksmanship and survival culinary skills far more credit than probably due), or was he implying that we'd have to go all ape-shit and survival-of-the-fittest-and-most-ruthless on each other? One can only imagine...

Anyway, it is nice here. Touching down on the runway in Bethel and seeing PAVED roads for the first time in a month was interesting. I found, however, that gravel is in many ways superior around here. Because of the frozen ground conditions, ALL of the paved roads in Bethel are hopelessly bumpy and in constant need of repairs. Gravel just seems like a much more viable option in a lot of ways, although I realize that it wouldn't work in Bethel because of the size of the town. Landing on a gravel runway for the first time is a little odd, but it's amazing how fast our minds adapt to a new state of "normal." Lots of things were odd to me when I got here, but now the reverse is almost true. When I return to the Lower 48, will I be able to squelch the urge to walk down the middle of the road without a care? Will the fact that kids there don't regularly run from teacher house to teacher house to "visit" seem as weird as the practice first seemed when I arrived?

Normal is totally a matter of perspective.

The Loss of my Mental Capabilities

Greetings from rainy, chilly Quinhagak! I had something really great and insightful to write about. I swear I did. Or at least I thought I did. I thought of it at some point today, most likely while teaching. Unfortunately, I neglected to write it down, and that lone thought apparently either died of loneliness or gave up the ghost and fled my mind, because I have no recollection of precisely what I was going to say. So... I'm just going to write whatever the hell pops into my head.

Our heat is broken. This would not be a big deal, as it's not all that cold yet and our house is well-insulated, except our WATER IS HEATED THROUGH THE FURNACE. No furnace = no hot water. So it's either shower at school or a cold shower. My roomie and I also somehow forgot to let the maintenance guys know of our little heat problem, so we're stuck with no hot water when we could ostensibly be con agua caliente at this moment.

More goodies for the cross country team arrived today. This has been wonderful! Nearly every runner has a new (or semi-new) pair of REAL RUNNING SHOES. All of the girls have sports bras, and we have a bunch left over for basketball and volleyball and NYO (if we have NYO this year... still haven't found a coach). Most of the kids got at least a new t-shirt to practice in, which is way cool. Some got new shorts, also way cool. They've all got water bottles now, again... way cool.

It is now 7:45 pm. Wanna make a bet that I'm in bed by 9:00?

Beer

So tomorrow makes a month... a month without alcohol of any kind passing my lips. I don't think I've gone a month without drinking since I started college. Interesting that I didn't think about it until today. For those of you who don't know, alcohol is illegal in the village I'm living in and I could both get in legal trouble and get fired for bringing in alcohol.

I don't want to get drunk, dear readers. Oh no. I want to drink a beer. Maybe a dark, nutty brown. It's getting cooler now (at least here), winter is perfect for dark beers. Or perhaps something lighter... very, very cold. I've heard that Minnesota is getting a nice last blast of summer, so I can just imagine myself sitting outside at some bar, or on a front porch, sipping something cold, alcoholic and carbonated. Heck, I'd even take one of my parents' crappy Bud Lights.

Thanksgiving in either Anchorage or Fairbanks (the decision has yet to be made by my coworkers/friends) had better include at least one stop at a bar or pub of some kind so I can savor the greatness that is beer. Just one. Or maybe two.

OK, a Few More Sentences...

The youngest brother of a good friend passed away last week. I just found out about it yesterday. While I had only met him once, briefly, about five years ago, hearing about a young person passing away definitely puts a new spin on life. I learned a while ago that we're not guaranteed a long life, that youth doesn't equal immortality, that good people can get taken away from us too soon. Every once in a while, though, we get a reminder. Be good to each other and yourselves, enjoy what you have, and don't spend too much time worrying about what you don't have. In the end, you can't take it with you. No one's tombstone reads "Work 60 Hours a Week" or "Pulled in Six Digits" or "Drove a Kickass Car."

And on that somewhat depressing-but-deep note, I'm going to go do some laundry. Life isn't always exciting, but it is precious. Enjoy your laundry, everyone.

Just One Sentence Today...

I caught a kindergartener with chewing tobacco yesterday.

Workin' for a Living...

So last night I was reading in bed, trying to get sleepy, and I came across something that really started my brain turning. In a book about women's health and spirituality (yeah, I'm a big nerd, so sue me), the author spoke of the lack of real community in our world. My convoluted train of thought was as follows: We spend time working to afford nice things that we can't appreciate all the time because we're busy working. I've actually read a book entirely on this subject and it just fascinates me. We get nice clothes so we can get a certain job, but wouldn't need that certain job if we didn't have to pay for such expensive clothes.

Then I think about life here. People may not "work" in our modern sense of the word (meaning: exchanging labor for money), but they certainly "do work," (meaning: perform labor). Some people here work for money, some simply hunt, fish, gather, and maybe do a little work on the side to get stuff they can't get themselves or through barter. By modern standards, they're far, far below the poverty line. The reality, however, is that those things that you can buy with money (pop, candy, chips, white bread) are far less healthy than those that require no money, but more time (salmon, trout, berries, caribou, etc...). There are, of course, exceptions. Vitamin C, for example, is infinitely easier to obtain through a glass of orange juice than through native plants and animals. But overall, what you can catch is healthier than what you can buy.

Who determines what is "poor?" Do each of our kids really need their own bedrooms for life to be complete? Do we need two cars (or more) per family? Why are we considered "poor" if we get by without these things? If you work all day, catching fish, hunting, gathering berries, and by doing so feed, clothe and house your family for the year, yet make no money in the process, why are you considered poor? Aren't you just making a living the same as someone who works for cash, just cutting out the middleman? It only stops working if you factor in a continuous desire for more. If you're satisfied with a house that doesn't leak, a boat that floats well enough to fish in, and food that keeps the family growing, then you're set. But as soon as you want a fancy new car, or a bigger house than you really need, money comes into the picture. Now just working to live changes into something else. You live to work.

Don't think I'm getting all polyanna on how things work up here. There are disadvantages to any system. Right now I'm just thinking out loud...

The End of a Long, Long Day

So rumor has it (everything's "rumor has it" around here... I heard this one from a 12 year-old so take it for what it's worth) Quinhagak is getting a cell phone tower. I'm not sure how I feel about that. Having happily left my Sprint PCS contract to move here, I'm really not prepared to do that whole thing. However, I can totally see how it would be useful for people out fishing on the river, etc, to be able to communicate with each other. I just really don't want to deal with the whole mess. Anyway, either I'm at home or I'm at school, so tracking me down isn't exactly rocket science.

A few boxes of goodies arrived from Recycled Miles (J and Dz's idea to get people to donate stuff to sports teams in need, starting with mine...). The girls were bashfully excited about the sports bras. A few already have them, and those that didn't now do. The boys were whining about not getting stuff when the girls got sports bras, but promptly shut their traps when I informed them that they were more than welcome to a sports bra or two. Aaaah, the pre-teen and early teen years... I wouldn't go back if you paid me. Also, informing them that some shoes (men's and women's) and water bottles are on the way quieted the whining significantly.

I've already started looking forward to next year... getting a better, earlier start to the cross country season, stuff I can do in the classroom... I just hope my enthusiasm holds out. So many teachers come into these kids' lives and then leave. I really don't want to be one of them. So far I'm very happy, and catch myself saying "maybe next year" and stuff like that. Here's hoping nothing happens to change my mind.

You know what I miss, though? Pizza. Yeah, we can sometimes get frozen pizzas here at the store (at an exorbitant price), but man could I go for a Spokes pizza, or maybe something from Uptown Pizza, or that new place that opened up right before I left... it's near Lyndale and Lake... what's it called... Galactic Pizza. Sumtin' like that. Or Bill's Pizza in Stevens Point, WI. Or maybe all of the above.

Soon I get my first paycheck. 'Twill be nice to not be panicky about money for once.

*Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawn*

So my crazy schedule over the past few weeks finally caught up with me tonight. I've been staying up waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too late, mostly just watching TV or a DVD. My roommate has the entire "Sex and the City" show on DVD, and I'll admit it: I have a new addiction.

No TV for me tonight, though. Got home after coaching, did some match-ups of shoes with kids through the Recycled Miles Website (http://www.jtri.com/recycled_miles/index.html) ate a little dinner, and promptly fell asleep. I really need to keep a better schedule; this go-go-go until I crash is not the way I work best.

Things are going GREAT at school. Having my own classroom for the first time definitely has its challenges, some of which I was prepared for, some of which were total and complete surprises. What I lack in wisdom, experience and planning I make up for with blind enthusiasm, a willingness to work to get things right, and a tendency to enjoy what I'm doing. Hopefully I can, over the years, gain the former three without totally forsaking the latter.

And with that sleepiness-induced quasi-deep-thought, I hit the sack.

'Night.

Well Whaddaya Know...

This is the most amazing thing. I mentioned (both here and on http://www.trinewbies.com/phorum) my runners and how they do a great job with virtually nil for equipment, and the response was freakin amazing!

I have offers for sports bras, running shoes, financial contributions... my head is spinning. I seriously can't thank Dz and Josh enough. They were plugging steadily away at my cause while I was still sound asleep in bed (time zones DID come into play, I swear). Josh set up a quickie website (http://www.jtri.com/recycled_miles/index.html) to gather names and equipment availability. People on TNO also jumped aboard before I even know what was happening. And for that, I have two words...

THANK YOU!!!

I again stand in awe of the overwhelming niceness of humanity. Just when I start getting jaded and bitter, people go and do something nice and I get to be happy with the world again. You people are wonderful!

Read the blog of one of the superstars helping my team out: http://www.gatordawg.com/lawgator/. She's a law student (but we love her anyway :sloppy) and an ironhottie and a guinea pig afficionado and smartie and a lot of other things. She's got good stuff to say. Read it, I command thee!

Nekkid Coworkers???

Took my first Maq'ii last night. A Maq'ii (pronounced, more or less, "Mah-KEE") is a Yup'ik steam bath. Basically, you go into what can only be described as a tiny, two-room wooden building on stilts. You enter into the front room, (doors are tiny and you have to duck to get in/out) where you take off all of your clothes and put them on a bench. Then you go into the other room, and sit on the floor. In front of you is a big woodstove, sunken into the floor somewhat. There are hot stones on top of it.

Then, basically, you sit and sweat. It's like a sauna on steroids. Seriously, these people like their heat. I'm a big sauna fan, but this is something totally different. You pour water on the stones and you sit and SWEAT. Maq'ii are always gender-separated, so it's a great opportunity for girl time. My housemate and co-worker and I were invited by one of the local women who also works at the school (and I teacher her daughter in my high school speech class) to Maq'ii with her and her sister. I have to admit, it's not everywhere that you can sit around nekkid with your coworkers and students' parents. The conversation was great and it really helped clear up the lingering sinus effects of my massive illness earlier in the week. There's something to be said for "girl time."

After being in and out of the steam room (and into the front room to "cool off") a few times, I got somewhat accustomed to the heat. Our host even went so far as to ask me "Are you sure you've never done this before?" She said I was pretty good for a gusuk (white person, actually any non-native). Go me. After sweating out for a while, you take a big enamel bowl of water and a washcloth and wash yourself. They swear that it gets you cleaner than a regular shower because you sweat the ickies out of your skin. I have to say I agree.

We walked back to our house after two hours of maq'ii. The moon glowed red, presumably because of the fires ravaging various parts of the state. I could breathe out of my nose for the first time all week and my skin felt soft and clear. The cool air felt great after the extreme heat of the maq'ii. I went home and slept really, really well.

Let Me Tell You a Story About High Speed Internet and Honey Buckets...

So in World Wide Web has made it to Quinhagak. We've got high-speed (or at least medium-speed) internet access, which gives us access to not only e-mail, blogs and chatting, but also the savior of the bush teacher...

ONLINE SHOPPING!

Seriously, it's great. The fact that pretty much anyone, anywhere, can order something from anyone, anywhere is pretty f-ing cool. The fact that I can take a job in what can fairly accurately be described as the middle of nowhere and still buy high fashion clothing (were that my thing) is kind of mind-blowing, if you think about it. You can sit on your toilet and the world's stuff is at your fingertips.

And SPEAKING of toilets, we've got high-speed internet, but no flush plumbing. Well, most of us don't... Tim, one of the teachers who's been here forever and has a big family, just got a new house built with flush plumbing. He likes to hold it over us to induce our jealousy at staff meanings. We've all got running water in kitchens and bathrooms, but no flush toilies, except at school. I try my best to #2 at school.

A honey bucket consists of the following: In your bathroom, where the toilet would be, sits a wooden box with a hole on top, covered by a regular toilet seat. Under said hole and seat you place a bucket lined with a strong plastic bag. And that's it. Voila, that's your honey bucket. Enjoy. When it gets about 1/4 of the way full, take it outside, tie the bag up, and put it in the little dumpster next to the big dumpster.

Next time you use a flush toilet, take a second to appreciate it. It really is quite luxurious.

Can't Get Away From Coaching...

Somehow I'm the cross country coach. I'm not sure why, or how, but I indicated at a staff meeting that I have coaching experience (swimming, mind you), and all the sudden I'm the new coach. Coaching in the Alaskan Bush is different than coaching elsewhere. Mostly it's harder. Most of my kids don't have running shoes. They run in their basketball shoes, or in some cases in their casual school shoes. Many of the girls don't have sports bras. They have to skip practice to go hunting or fishing with their families to put food on the table. Going to a meet involves finding both a male and female chaperone, chartering a flight, making sure each student has a sleeping bag and other stuff for the overnight trip, and maybe getting "weathered in" at wherever the meet is. My team ranges in age from 11 to 18. That and I've never coached cross country before and am a joke of a runner.

All that said, it really is more fun than coaching, for example, in Minneapolis. The students totally appreciate the opportunity to be on a team (even if we only really get to do two meets this year because of scheduling and the impending Alaskan onset of winter). The fast runners don't look down on the slower runners. The older runners look out for the younger runners. A few of them are pretty fast, but honestly, at this point, I could care less.

Next step: Procure sports bras for the girls. I'm not even going to try for running shoes.