The more you know!

The winter winds have been keeping our wind turbine moving!

Snow has come to stay in Nome, and the dustings of last week have turned into a long-term ground-cover that doesn’t melt.  The temperature hovers around 20 to 30 degrees during the day, and dips close to 10 degrees at night.  A friend in town made a joke that was right on the mark; Alaska has four seasons:  June, July, August, and Winter.  So far the current climate hasn’t stopped me from going for walks and hikes, and I’m proud to say that I am still comfortable in my “fall coat” and haven’t yet had to resort to my winter parka.  Although I can tell it won't be long before I break out the wool socks and long underwear!

View of Nome from Anvil Mountain

The hiking crew!  Up was fine, down was sketchy...

So inspired by the winter wonderland outside, I’d like to delve into a fun fact I remember hearing about Eskimo culture.  Do the Inuit people really have twenty different words for snow?  It turns out the answer it yes, and more!  While the language did not originally have a written form, there are words for old snow, fresh snow, snow for melting into drinking water, snow the texture of corn, snow the texture of rice, falling snow, fallen snow, dry snow, wet snow, snowdrift, snowstorm, snowflake, packed snow, fluffy snow, covered with snow, crusted snow, crystallized snow, wavy surface of drifting snow, overhanging snow, little snow, snow cliff, and more.  My favorites are muruaneq, which means soft deep snow, and qanisqineq, which means fallen snow floating on water.  There are nearly as many words for ice.  And contrary to popular belief, native people did not live in igloos (they lived in huts dug into the ground) unless they were out on a hunt or migrating to another area.

The district gives every new teacher a pair of yaktraks, and I've been putting mine to good use!

The roads were so slippery these girls were pretending to ice skate for hours outside my window!

Stairs everywhere in Nome are made of metal grates so snow can be scraped off before entering

The weather may be reminding me of reindeer games, but this week I learned some Eskimo games.  A rare instance of downtime introduced me to a game called “Muk”.  One person says “1, 2, 3, MUK!” and the last person to say Muk must make completely silent faces (with no body gesturing) until someone laughs.  The hilarity is indescribable.  I also learned about the Native Youth Olympics, where each event is based on games and life skills of past generations of Alaska Natives, originally played as a way to test their hunting and survival skills, to increase strength, endurance, agility, and balance mind and body.  I got to try a few of the events out during our morning workouts, and let me tell you they’re not as easy as their whimsical names make them sound.  These kids are tough.

The Kneel Jump: Hunters must develop the skill of quick movement to be successful in jumping from one ice floe to another.  For this game, kneel down, and sit on your heels with the tops of your feet flat to the floor.  Next you try to jump up and land on two feet while keeping your balance.  Length of the jump determines the winner.

The Eskimo Stick Pull: This is a game of strength, based upon the needs of the hunters who had to be strong enough to pull a seal out of freezing water.  Two people sit facing each other and pull on a stick, each trying to pull their opponent toward them without jerking the stick.  The first person to pull the other one up is the winner.

The One-Hand Reach: A hunter in a kayak had to have great body control, as tipping over could lead to frostbite, hypothermia, or death.  This event is a test of a person’s body control as they’re asked to hold their body weight up with just one hand pressed on the floor. The person reaches up to touch a ball suspended in the air behind them.  The person who taps the ball at the highest position is the winner.

The Wrist Carry:  Hunters were required to carry heavy game over long distances.  In this game, one person has his wrist draped over a stick and has to hold him or herself off the ground while two teammates carry them as far as possible around an oval track until they can no longer hold on.

The Seal Hop: This game originated with the hunters who imitated the movements of seals.  A competition of pure endurance, a person hops across the floor using only their hands and toes in a low push-up position.  The time it takes doesn’t matter, and the person traveling the farthest distance wins.

Alaska Day was celebrated this week and although I didn’t get a day off of work, I’ve learned quite a bit of trivia.  The Alaskan territory was sold in March, but it was not until October 18^th, 1867 that the commissioners arrived in Sitka for a formal transfer, thus Alaska Day is celebrated on this day each year.  Alaska was purchased from Russia at a cost of 2 cents per acre, totaling 7.2 million dollars.  What did we get for our money?  A land so big that if placed on top of the lower 48 it would stretch from Florida to Los Angeles and reach north to Lake Superior, a coastline that is more than 6,000 miles long (longer than all other US states combined), and a land with more water than any other state.  Alaska has active volcanoes, more than 3 million lakes, over 100,000 glaciers (over half of the world’s glaciers), and although it is the least densely populated state, one out of fifty residents have their pilot’s license.  I’ve gotta say, I’m starting to develop some Alaskan pride!

I know this is turning into an encyclopedia entry, but I’d like to go off on one more tangent (because it really is fascinating to me!).  The name “Alaska” comes from the Aleut word Alyeska, meaning “the great land”.  Makes sense to me.  Oddly enough, Nome’s name was all a mistake.  Prospectors originally called this settlement Anvil City.  The natives called the area Ayasayuk, or “sheer cliff”, and the Russians named it Mys Tolstoi, or “broad cape”.  Despite these colloquialisms, the area was not formally named until much later.  A British navy cartographer creating maps from ships’ charts misread the handwriting that said “?name” to mean “Nome”.  And so I live in Nome!  Go figure.

Hard to believe how far from NY I am!

The second week of my marathon schedule and Careers in Education class had some definite highs and lows.  It’s no secret that I thrive with a set routine, and am resistant to change.  In working with this population, I’ve noticed that the students I teach here are extremely resilient, probably as a result of the challenges and tragedies they regularly face.  I feel as though (slowly but surely) I’m starting to find this quality in myself as well.  I’m developing strategies to cope with the constant surprises and “make-it-work moments” in my day-to-day, and to face the many hurdles and conundrums unique to this instructional setting.  But what really counts is I’m still making the best of it, and doing a dang good job.

Job Shadows at Nome Preschool

Looking back on this session, what resonates with me the most is the almost tangible growth I’ve seen in my particular students.  We began the first day with the girls struggling to stand up in front of their peers to say their name and a little something about themselves.  By the end of our two weeks together, each and every student prepared a ten-minute lesson that they delivered confidently to our group as well as our NACTEC director (talk about courage!).  I never imagined that I could see this much progress over such a short amount of time, but the concentrated nature of our program makes it possible.  When you think about it, our instructional hours are equivalent to a month worth of class meetings.  One covertly placed and heart-felt thank you card indicated that my time and energy were not spent in vain.  It’s always sad to see them go, and at the airport one of my shyest students took a moment to turn back and say “I can’t wait until the day I can let you know that I’m finally a teacher”.  Awesome!

Oh yeah, and I learned how to start a fire by rubbing sticks together!!!