School, Halloween and Snow

So life around here has begun to remind us of the differences out here compared to home. On Wednesday, we had an assembly for our high school and kindergarten students to share their pictures and information from a field trip they had. At the end of the assembly, the kindergarten students presented a Yup'ik dance that they had prepared to share with all of us the uses of the plants they discovered on their journey. It was complete with a drummer and singer, and the entire community was invited to join them in the dancing. I was so disappointed I didn't bring my camera to share with you the beautiful music and dancing, but hopefully I'll be able to get pictures from Sophie to post.

After that assembly, we had one somewhat normal day, and then came Friday. Friday at school, we had an early release. Why, you may ask? Well, with Halloween on Sunday, the school and community needed to have their costume parade, door prizes and raffles Friday afternoon. Upon getting to school, I realized I just might be the only teacher without a costume. So I went to the storage room, found an empty box, and took the time I had before school started to create a costume. The only thing I could think of making was a box of crayons. Seemed simple enough, right? So I wrapped the box, and found my own box of crayons to replicate. It drew a lot of attention from students in the hallway, who were all curious to see what I was doing. Most of them came to assure me that my head was not going to fit through the hole I had made, but some of them came in and wanted to help. Even if I would have never put the costume on, I really enjoyed how the box grabbed the attention and forced a visit from some of the students who have never visited before.

Brandon, Tara, Peter (not real sure if that was his name or not) and I were the judges of the costume parade. And while we loved getting front row seats to see all the children and community members in costume, I decided I'm not a very good judge. I wanted to give everyone a certificate.

At the end of the show, teachers and adults with costumes had to walk and show off their costumes. They judged the winners of this walk, and I received funniest costume award. I'm guessing it was because I couldn't do much in that box. I couldn't clap, couldn't get into it very well, and I sure as heck couldn't get out of it on my own. The little ones loved the box, and kept telling me their favorite crayon color, so I enjoyed their attention as well.

And finally, the snow. It seems every day for a week now, at some point in the day, we have had some form of precipitation. And while we thought we loved snow in the beginning, we're beginning to hate the idea of it. It's beautiful and will allow for travel out to other villages with snow machines, but it interferes with our ability to communicate with the lower forty-eight. What we mean by that is our Hughesnet dish gets coated with the big white flakes, and as a result of this interference, we're forced to sweep it off about every twenty minutes if it's a heavy fall. I guess is a little interference is the worst of our problems, we'll enjoy it while we have it.

We've attached a couple of pictures. We'll get more pictures as things freeze up over here. I don't trust where I walk without a trail unless everything has had time to freeze so it may be a few weeks. Brandon just informed me that it's 16 degrees outside. Maybe it won't take as long as we thought for this grey world to harden up.

Love you,

Brie

"If you're gonna be a bear, be a grizzly!"

I hate to disappoint all of you who opened this blog thinking we had an encounter with a bear. Unfortunately, the only reason I used the quote was to relay my interest in hibernating with the rest of the bears out here. The weather has gotten colder, the snow has begun to show its face a little more often, but rarely sticks around long enough to have any fun in. And the sun seems to be becoming scarcer than the snow.

It's conference week and now that my paperwork is done, I want to clean up shop and sit back bundled in blankets with a movie. So, that's exactly what Brandon and I have been doing. We've been cleaning house, getting dishes done, laundry washed, floors swept, and the interest in dirtying another dish after our cleaning rants is nonexistent. So, tonight was a leftover night on paperplates; and when leftovers were gone, Brandon had a bowl of cereal while Tombstone blared in the background.

Knowing that I can't hibernate, some of the grizzly's temper has found its way into my interactions. I started off slowly, trying to find my footing as I interacted with the kids. But as I get to know my kids and how they work, I've found the confidence again. I had a student sharing a story with me today about how she crossed paths with a fox on her way to school. She comes into my room and tells me stories about 15 minutes before school every morning. Because I enjoy that students are warming up to me, I've allowed the visits even when they interrupt the quiet of my planning period. As she told the story, she spoke village English. And all the while, I helped her through her story, adding articles and prepositions. After a few corrections, my student interjected that I talked like a city girl, as if it should hurt my feelings. Here's how the conversation went:

Me: What's that like?
Student: Like you!
Me: Are you saying a city girl speaks English correctly?
Student: Yes! You always say right English. I say village English.
Me: I speak that way so others can understand me.
Student: My parents can understand me!
Me: Then go talk to your parents.

The student was receptive and agreed that she'd rather speak in a way anyone could understand her. She made her corrections and I felt effective. It was a nice and motivating beginning to my day; something I needed to jerk me out of this hibernation phase setting in on me.

Up River with Mickia

It's always a great day when you have a boat ride to look forward to. Tonight, we went with Mickia to check his net for white fish on the Nushagak. Luckily, we were given forewarning from the group that went last night that we'd freeze the whole way up and back unless we dressed warmer than we thought we'd need to. So, we dug out the snow pants, triple-layered our tops, found our hats and finished off our outfit with our new boots (rated to -148 degrees fahrenheit). And recalling our last trip with Mickia, I grabbed my sunglasses on the way out just in case.

Ben, Brandon, Mickia and I climbed aboard his skiff, only to find out those amazing boots of ours are not only warm, but heavier than I'm used to. I felt I was standing in cement blocks as I lifted one leg after another over the sides and seats of the boat. What a workout?! Anyway, after a 15-20 minute skiff ride up river, with brisk wind slapping our faces the entire way up, we finally came upon Mickia's subsistent net. As he pulled the net out of the water, we counted one chum, one silver and three white fish. While we were tickled, Mickia was a little disappointed in the turn-out, saying, "I knew I should have tied it closer to the shore." Next time, he says he's going to head towards a little cove where the waters are a little more shallow.

We took the skiff back down river to the shore, and made our way over to Mickia's. Mickia pulled his four-wheeler out, hooked up the trailor and went back for his skiff, indicating the end of another season. The boys put the boat on barrels and we headed towards the shed to scale the white-fish we'd pulled from the net. Mickia brought out two knives. And while I didn't volunteer to participate, it was fun watching the other three remove the scales by running the blades of the knives against the grain of their scales. It was especially entertaining when the seemingly dead fish found one more fight and flopped on the table. My heart ached for the fish being literally skinned alive. My hopes are that their nervous systems are less sensitive than what I'd imagined.

Mickia was generous and sent us home with one of the fish. I have to admit I have no idea how to handle a whole fish, head, tail and all, in the kitchen, but I'm sure someone around here will be able to show me when the time comes to thaw the little guy out.

We stayed warm throughout the trip with the exception of our faces and fingers, and were reminded of why they told us to purchase the face masks we bought but haven't worn. As for the gloves, anyone with any insight there is welcomed to share their information with me. I'll take any advice I can get!

Above are pictures of the village from the river, scaling fish and the Nushagak. Enjoy!

Brie

Getting in and out of the bush...

They say that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. Well, a plane in the bush flying to the lower forty-eight ends up being worth about $3200 WITH a companion fare on short-notice.

On Saturday, October 2nd, we received a sad phone call from Iowa, letting us know that Grandma Jo passed away comfortably that morning. While the news was not expected, we weren't surprised after the initial shock subsided. Joan, after a severe stroke last Christmas Eve, held on like a trooper, despite the incovenience of a feeding tube, inability to eat solid foods and the bumps in the road that came along with the transition from independent into assisted living. Joan kept her spirits up even when her dearest friend passed away about a month ago. But as time carried on, Joan knew it was time to go. And when we received the news of her passing, we, too, knew it was time to go home and be with family as we all said our good-byes one last time.

So, with enough time to pack a light suitcase and complete my lesson plans for the week, Brandon and I made arrangements to fly from New Stu to Dillingham, Dillingham to Anchorage, Anchorage to Seattle, and finally Seattle to Chicago. Over the course of two days, with a visit to the Tuckwoods in Dillingham, we made our way back to the Midwest. Clayton, my brother-in-law, awaited our arrival at Terminal 3, and we were on our way by 11:30pm on Sunday night. After a few wrong turns, our first visit to a gas station in months, and some catching up, we made it to my sister Katie's for the night. We hit the hay around 3am and slept straight through our alarms the next morning until 10. We were lucky to visit Katie and my nephews, Michael and Jonathan, and niece, Allison, before my brother and his wife passed through Evansville on their way to Potosi from Greenbay. We knew we were meant to come home with the seamless transitions from layovers to car trips. We had a nice visit with Shane and Jen and made it to mom and dad's by mid-afternoon. We kicked back our feet for an hour or two, and hopped back in the car for a trip to Dubuque. Brandon and I really didn't miss too much from the lower-48 food-wise, but boy did Los Azteca's Queso Fundido melt in my mouth that first bite.

The next morning, Brandon and I drove to Des Moines and made a few necessary stops along the way. It turns out that when you live in bush Alaska you don't necessarily have appropriate attire for a funeral in your closet, and with a moment's notice, you can sometimes forget underwear, socks and bras in the bag you've packed. Brandon and I enjoyed our much needed shopping spree, but did surprisingly well at keeping ourselves under control.

We made it to Brandon's parents' house, did some homework and hit the hay early. The only problem was that we were physically three hours behind what showed on the clock. As pooped as we were, we still laid and stared at the ceiling for what seemed to be hours before we fell asleep.

The next morning, I awoke at 5:00am and got ready to visit some of the people I've missed the most: my coworkers! Although all of them weren't there and I didn't get a whole lot of time to see them, it was still extremely nice to see the people I spent 40 hours a week, 36+ weeks a year, for the last three years. It was also really nice to get the greeting from the students that came running over with hugs and hellos. I wish I could bring them all back to Alaska so I could have the best of both worlds.

Anyway, that day filled up with family and reminiscing, and led into a sad but beautiful Thursday saying goodbye to Grandma Jo. The service was nice, and lots showed up to share their stories and condolences. Aunt Jeanie even came down from Belmond with mom and dad to pay their respects. It was awefully nice to see everyone who loved Joan so much. Kalee was adorable, as always, saying, "Where GG go? GG sleep? Bye-bye GG." The evening was spent in Murray with some of Joan's closest friends a family, chatting about what a wonderful woman she was at Donna Sue's and Danny's.

Friday was an early morning with Brandon and I hitting the road a little before six. We drove to Platteville, met mom to trade a few items with her, and headed onto Madison for lunch with two of my sisters. Although it was a short visit, it helped complete my week to see as much family as possible in the little time we had. SueAnne and Therese met us for lunch at Granite City, where we caught up about the nieces and nephews, prospective job changes, and life in the bush. I wish we could have had one more week to relax with the people we care about so much but see so little, but so it is and so it goes when you live three thousand miles away.

We were lucky to get another couple of hours with Therese as she graciously volunteered to drive us to the airport. She looks great and did a good job reminding us of how blessed we are to have so many wonderful people to miss between visits.

We finally, after a number of hours on a plane from Chicago to Anchorage, a turbulant flight to say the least, made it back to the last frontier. An evening at the Hampton Inn, and 7 hours of shopping and shipping did us in for one of two final flights home. We flew to Dillingham and were blessed with the hospitality and company of Cindy, Tim, Sadie, Skylar and Rooster (Rayna) once again. It's crazy we've only met them twice and already feel like they're a part of our family. Brandon got some time with Tim on a work call, where Brandon assisted in taking a deceased teenager, killed in a four-wheeling accident, to the morgue. It reaffirmed my disinterest in being a bush pilot, as he's the one who brought the young boy over wrapped only in a sheet. The pilot and Tim had to transfer the boy from the sheet to the body bag, and Brandon assisted in transporting the body from the trooper car to the hospital. While it's not something I'd ever want to do, it was a good reminder that we're not in Kansas anymore...or Iowa for that matter.

Sunday was a glorious day, as we were able to make our way back to home, sweet home. The three day travel on both ends of a week-visit to the lower 48 can take a lot out of a person. My heart sinks to think about all of the people I didn't get to see, my nieces and nephews specifically, but good friends, too. Hopefully, I'll make up lost time and visits over Christmas.

Anyway, after a loooooong post, and loooooooong travels, we are safe and sound and happy to be home. Love and miss you all, and it was great to see those of you over the last week. Keep in touch!

Brie