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| Blue skies are smilin' at me! |
As all of the other teachers in the Bering Strait School
District have finished school for the year, I finished my last full office week
of the year and am gearing up for our grand finale, month-long high school
session. I wasn’t able to attend
any of the graduations as I’d hoped due to limited funding, and I experienced
many a twinge of jealousy as I learned of the departures of other teachers in
the district, flying home to their families and friends for the summer. In the district I’m looked at as having
one of the easiest jobs, but little do they know there are complex reasons why there's a 75% teacher turnover each year. To help keep my spirits high, my closest friend in Nome
surprised me with a tray of freshly baked muffins (one for each morning of the
week!), made with subsistence blueberries, preserved in the freezer over the
long winter to help me through my week.
It’s because I have friends like these that I am able to buck up, put on
a happy face, and make it through.
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| The yummiest muffins I've had! |
Outside of work, the week flew by. I attended a concert for the students of the Anvil Science
Academy (a local Charter middle school), performing in the style of the Tlingit
Tribe. They reenacted a
traditional legend taking creative liberties, performed their own
instrumentals, and demonstrated customary techniques in body percussion. Afterwards we were in such close
proximity to the mountains that we decided to take a hike, despite the fact
that it was fogged over and snowing.
There wasn’t much of a view, but the company made the trip worth
it. I still catch myself chuckling
to thoughts of “snow madness” preached about in a think southern Baptist style.
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| The opening Tlingit chant |
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| Acting out a legend |
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| The only tree on the tundra! Actually a willow... |
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| Friends! |
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| The edge of the Earth |
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| King of the world |
May 16th turned out to be the rainiest day in May
in Nome history, with the previous record being swamped by 4pm, with continual
rain all night and into the next morning.
You’d think such a rainy, gloomy day would dampen my spirits, but the
moment I woke up to see pouring rain I was filled with childlike
excitement. I haven’t experienced
this type of precipitation in over 7 full months of hardcore winter; I was
elated! To celebrate the weather,
two friends and I decided to try out a new restaurant that just opened in town
and was reported to be “the only place in Nome that didn’t feel like
Nome”. That sold me on the
idea! Off we wandered through the
wet and the rain to go on our sushi dinner date. The only indications that we were still in Nome were that our
food came out at all different times, the entrance to the place was riddled
with cigarette butts and trash, and a glance out the windows showed the
stubborn sea ice. All in all the
evening was wonderful and the pictures speak for themselves!
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| The chandelier is made of paper and buttons |
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| Modern decor |
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| Up-cyling in the walls |
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| The women's bathroom |
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| Rainbow roll with four kinds of fish |
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| Simple salmon roll |
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| Green dragon roll - my favorite! |
Hiking has become a staple in my routine, and we’ve been
going every chance we get. It’s
hard to imagine that I could be battling snow in 20 degrees in the same week
that I’m getting sunburned in a t-shirt in unwavering sunshine and nearly 60
degrees, but it happened. The
rainy day finally broke the cold weather with warm southerly winds, and it’s
been beautiful ever since. The
only word I can use to describe this change in weather in miraculous; on days
like these there’s no place I’d rather be than on a mountain in Nome. It’s amazing to see the impact a day of
warmth can make on a snowy mountain, as the base of the hillside becomes
saturated with water. Pools of
water form over the tundra, some of which resemble actual creeks and
streams. The tundra only ever thaws
to about twelve inches deep (the remainder underneath is frozen all year) but
it is resuming its spring-like bounce and flowers.
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| Can you see me? |
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| So warm! |
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| Posing |
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| Still up to my knees in snow |
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| Melting snow river |
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| Temporarily swamped tundra |
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| Playing Winne-the-Pooh sticks |
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| I lost! |
Besides the always breathtaking beauty of a trek across the
tundra, there were a few other notable happenings during our frequent jaunts. As we completed our trip up a rocky
ridge, we noticed two hawks becoming noticeably more agitated and aggressive,
paired with a high-pitched chirping from the outside of the rock face. Parents protecting their
hatchlings! It was fascinating to
watch them circle and swoop, making alarming screeching noises to warn us to
back off. A friend and I followed
their advice, but my honey stayed to investigate further. At one point the hawk dive-bombed him
from nearly 30 feet, talons within a few inches of his shirtless back. Needless to say, it was time to
go. All we wanted to do was enjoy
the scenery and nice weather, but you win this time, hawks!
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| Slowly melting snow |
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| The hawk! |
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| Tempting fate |
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| Can you find my honey sneaking a peek at the chirpers? |
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| Duck and cover! |
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| Hiding! |
Another notable moment was witnessing eighteen adult musk
oxen lounging and munching on some greens while driving home after a hike. I’ve seen many a musk oxen, but never
this many at one time. I couldn’t
believe how close we got to them, all from the protection of a vehicle. The poor things are so overheated in
this nice weather, being able to maintain a core body temperature of over 100
degrees even when completely immobile in -50. Pretty soon their chill-zones will become goldmines; the
warm weather leads to these animals shedding their quiviut, which will be stuck
in the tundra and can be collected by the bagful. This fuzzy and downy soft under-hair is treasured for its
insulating and non-irritating qualities, and an ounce of quiviut is worth $90, and is used in knitting all types of luxury garments.
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| Muskies! |
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| Chowing down |
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| You lookin' at me? |
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| Can't believe we got so close |
The musk oxen have not moved on just yet, so I haven’t been
able to capitalize on this lucrative opportunity. This week we did however try our hand at some gold
panning. The town is beginning to
fill up with mining characters of all kinds (purportedly not as friendly as
last years crowd), and the dredges are already out in full-force thanks to the
huge mass of ice miles from shore blocking the waves and allowing for calm
water and prime dredging conditions.
Armed only with a borrowed gold pan, we made our way down to the waters
edge to strike it rich. After
painstakingly reducing two pans of soil, we decided that we had perfected a new
technique in gold mining; the catch and release method. We had a hard time deciding what might
be gold, and what might just be shiny.
Our efforts on the beach were not completely fruitless, and we did not
leave empty handed – the newly exposed beach allowed me to find plenty of beach
glass, which while not actually valuable is still pretty to look at. I’ll call it a success!
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| They're back! |
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| Out dredging amongst icebergs |
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| Close-up of the melting sea ice |
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| Gold panning on the beach |
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| He's got gold in his eyes! |
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| Striking it rich? |
