November 23, 2014
One of my dear friends told me a couple of months ago that
she liked reading my blog posts and seeing my pictures, but that she wanted to
know how I personally am doing. So I
guess I’ll give that a few paragraphs; I haven’t taken a whole lot of pictures lately
anyway!
It’s not a simple thing to describe, really. I miss my family and my friends, and when I
was backpacking with Blake and Kristin in the Selkirk Mountains in September I
realized that I miss the trees and the Idaho woods. But at the same time, I can’t explain why I
feel so at home in Alaska and why I love it so much.
I can say a few
reasons: this is a very warm, active,
friendly community that has accepted me ad taken me in very quickly. It’s a nice size, although I find myself
wanting to live in one of the smaller villages for a while to see what that’s
like. Priest River, much as I love it,
has been feeling increasingly too big and too contentious. I’m not so naïve as to think that there
aren’t the same problems here—there are certainly drug and alcohol problems, theft,
family problems and some poverty, but honestly—not as much as in Priest River
and Newport. I have only had one or two
drug seekers in the clinic and those were cannery workers from outside. All the kids go to one school and the whole
community cares for and about them; the kids are really the center of this
community. I don’t hear any wrangling
that uses the school to push any political point of view or stance. Maybe it’s that the schools are better
funded, but it’s also a cultural difference in attitude I think. Everyone is related in a dozen ways to
everyone else (except for us newcomers), if not by blood then by history and
proximity.
I was really struck when I first got here and went to some
high school basketball games by how polite and well-mannered everyone was;
there was no yelling at the refs, there was no protesting calls, there was only
rooting for all the kids, and the kids always helped up anyone who fell down,
even the other team, and congratulated them on good plays and commiserated with
them on errors made. I think that kind
of attitude and behavior is largely due to the native culture that is still
woven through everything. It seems like
the fewer people there are in a place and the more the environment makes you
need each other, the better people tend to get along, in general. And there is still generally respect for
elders.
I also like the way this is, in a lot of ways, still the
frontier despite airplanes and cell phones and the internet. Like everywhere, there is the relentless
intrusion of bureaucracy, rules, checklists of checklists, etc., but in a very
real way we have to do what has to be done regardless of whether we have the
exact right tools or credentials to do it with.
Don’t get me wrong—I believe in the wisdom of guidelines, but not when
it gets to the point that they make it impossible to do the RIGHT thing. For the most part, we are still allowed (and
expected) to use common sense and do the right thing, and if you are dumb
enough to get hurt by doing something stupid, we’ll help you out but don’t even
for one minute entertain the idea of suing someone.
This is a big place, Alaska, and until you’ve flown over
some of it it’s impossible to really begin to comprehend the incredible size
and scale of it. I love the openness,
the wildness, the freedom, the solitude here.
I don’t feel crowded or claustrophobic.
I love it that most everybody here lives a subsistence life, at least to
some degree, even though we also can order just about anything on Amazon
Prime. Most people still fish and hunt
and gather berries to feed their families and dogs. It’s really given me a different point of
view about those things; an older native man, when the well-healed tourist
industry based on catch-and-release fishing was explained to him, said
scornfully, “We don’t play with our food!”
For the locals, fishing is not a sport, its part of feeding yourself and
the family and for many is also a large part of their income.
So there is an undefinable but undeniable feeling of
belonging here and coming home since I first visited Alaska in 2004 with my
fire team. I was notified in Sept. that
I have been accepted into the student loan program, which is unfortunately not
retroactive to the date I was hired here, but still will be a very welcome
respite from some of my astronomic student loan debt. I plan to be here at least 3 years from the
end of Sept. (unless something completely unforeseen happens), and then I’ll
reevaluate. I’m very happy here, and I feel
very fulfilled. I love my job, finally,
as well as my work. And I’m pretty busy
most of the time, but much less of that is time working and much more is a
social life and doing the things I love; very different from the last two years
in Priest River.
So I guess I just went on and on about me and didn’t write
anything else this time—this is for you, Maria!
I will leave you with some pictures and the always-entertaining Unalaska
police report (which is for you, Cassie).
Unalaska Police Report (Unalaska is the town at Dutch Harbor down the Aleutian chain)
Oct. 16 Suspicious Person/Activity
A man with a swollen toe told the officer who stopped him as he was trundling along the roadway that he and his erstwhile companions had liberated a wheelchair from the hotel, to more comfortably enable his return to his vessel. The thief whose license was suspended, was dispossessed of his stolen wheels and made to walk to his boat. The hotel did not care to press charges.
Oct. 17 Robbery
The wheelchair thief, accompanied by his two erstwhile companions, stole a wallet fom a taxi driver's purse and then refused to pay the fare when the driver demanded that he exit the vehicle and return her wallet. The driver had no interest in pursuing charges and wished only to have the cab fare recovered.
Oct. 24 Harrassment
Taxi Driver B complained that Taxi Driver A is harassing her by approachig her taxi and taking photos of her. An officer explained to the various involved parties that continuing this pattern of behavior could result in the suspension of their taxi permits.
Nov. 3 Animal
Caller asked for assistance removing what he believed to be a fox in his attic. He later determined it was perhaps not a fox after all, though its true identity remained a mystery.
Nov. 5 Criminal Mischief
An inmate who was hanging on to the bars of his cell and screaming that he was dead and had no pulse was able to find the energy to throw a remote control down the corridor, breaking it into several pieces.
Nov. 8 Civil
Caller spoke with an officer about the legality of his wife having turned his dog in to an Anchorage-based shelter after it bit her dog.
Guess the holidays bring out the best in all of us!
One of the thousands of jelly fish that washed up this fall. These are the non-stinging kind. |
Summer fishing shacks on the beach |
Sunset over Red Salmon Lake |
Gulls drawing a line in the sand |
Beach at the mouth of the Naknek River where it enters Bristol Bay |
Fall grass |
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