No Knives Allowed

An elder of our village passed away.  She had been flown out of the village for medical treatment, and died on January 27th.  Because of the harsh weather we've been experiencing, it took until last week to get the body back to Toksook Bay.

My first Yup'ik funeral.

When a Yup'ik person dies, their mourning family is forbidden to cut anything: no using knives or scissors.  At first that sounded pretty random to me.  But, upon further thought, I can see how it is a valuable function of mourning here.  No knife use for a Yup'ik family means no hunting or preparing food.  So, the village steps in to provide food for the family all throughout the mourning period.

We didn't have the funeral until last week.  They were waiting for the weather to be clear enough for a plane to be able to land to bring the body back to the village.  The body arrived Monday, and funeral was on Thursday.  The body was first taken to the family home where people had a chance to view her.  We knew the funeral was imminent when the grave had been dug and casket was sighted being transported to the Catholic Church.

It is interesting to me how comfortable the people here seem to be with death and dealing with the corpse.  Kids relayed details that I would normally consider to be rather gory, like how they needed to have a shorter viewing time in the home and get her in the ground because the body was getting soft.

The elder was dressed in her warmest jacket, hood up, and warm gloves clothed her hands.  There was a host of objects that surrounded her, including a new a jigsaw puzzle.  Many people kissed the corpse goodbye, as well poking and feeling the face and body as they paid their final respects.

Those of you who know me well are probably surprised to find out that I went up to the casket at all.  Well, to my squeamish surprise, I found that was actually the "exit slip" to leave the church.  The pews exited one row at a time, in an orderly fashion, from back to front.  The line formed in the aisle, then filed past the coffin, then past the family to give condolences, and finally out the door. ... kind of wedding receiving line fashion.

The service itself was a Catholic mass, mostly in Yup'ik.  I enjoyed seeing some of my more active students serving as solemn altar boys.  I marveled at how welll they sat for the 2 hour service, and was impressed that one of them swung the incense pot without spinning it around.

The burial was immediately after the church service, and then the village gathered for a feast prepared by community members.  After the feast was Yuraq... signaling the time to mourn was over, it was time to dance.

An interesting cross-cultural experience.  A time to die, a time to mourn, a time to dance.

Buried Alive!

I opened my door to go to school the other day, expecting to have to do some shoveling in order to climb up out of my house, to find a formidable sight:

It took me quite a while to get that door to shut again!  Fortunately, I have another door, plus friends willing to come and dig me out.  Ms.B tunneled through before Mr.T & Mr.N arrived to do the serious clearing:

Here's the front of my house from the outside:

Here's my neighbor's house, which disappeared from my sight during the blizzard the other day, it was a complete white out:

Throughout these snowy days, I really appreciate all the hands that have reached out to help me:

And, apparently, the frigid fun is not over yet... we are hunkering down for a new blizzard beginning tonight that is supposed to last throughout the weekend.  I am thankful to be at home, one of the basketball teams from another village has been stranded here since last weekend!  

Serious Snow & Wind

It seems that whenever I've moved to a new state, the weather that year is pronounced as "unusual" for that area... well, that seems to be happening once again!  Village schools are rarely cancelled because of weather, but this year it's been necessary.

To give you an idea of the quantity of snow, here's a shot of my classroom window last October:

To give you perspective, when there isn't snow outside, the school is raised up, so in order for kids to peek in my window to check what I'm doing, they have to prop a board up and climb up.  From September to November, they kept the light coming in by shoveling:

The accumulation proved to be too much, and the window stayed completely covered for some weeks.

Then, last week, my class was startled to hear some crashing and scraping coming from our wall.  It turned out to be a bulldozer, unburying the school!  They pushed away the snow to almost ground level.  We could see daylight once again!   I'm watching it fill in once again... still about a foot of clearing at the top of the window.

Times of Sewing, Feasts, and Security

A few of us have been getting together on Saturday afternoons for a craft club of sorts.  After piecing together sewing machines from the sad array of parts and machines owned by the school, we have 2 that function well to share.  We've been learning how to sew the traditional garb qaspeg (pronounced kus-puck) using the method passed down from mother to daughter in native villages.  It is very interesting, and quite efficient.  No pattern, no cutting, no pinning.  You measure a garment that fits you to gauge the size, and rip the fabric instead of cutting.  I've been cheating and using pins, though!  Pleasant hours have been passed while sewing and chatting... I'm reminded of old fashion quilting bees.  

I had moose 3 times this week!  'Tis the season, I suppose.  We celebrated a birthday at a native family's home with Moose & Potatoes, Fried Halibut, Fry Bread, and a Crisco and berry dessert pronounced a-goo-duck.   Even the teachers who don't like fish gobbled it all up!

I was amused when they served pizza at the first year teachers' training and some of the teachers were groaning how long it had been since they had eaten a slice of pizza.  I've had more pizza than ever here in Toksook!  Our science teacher has some serious pizza skills, and regularly hosts pizza and game nights.  Last night I played 2 games that were a riot: Banana Grams & Balderdash.  I'd never played either of them before, and thoroughly enjoyed them!

There are a couple of sobering security issues looming here, though.  A judge ruled last week that a troubled young man would be allowed to return to the village, even though he fired shots at school personnel last spring.  We'll be practicing our lockdown procedure next week.  Unfortunately, my classroom doesn't have a wall or doorway, so we will be screened only by bookcase on wheels.  

The other issue involves vandalism... a large rock was hoisted through the window of a teacher's house.  Shattered glass and shattered emotions have been gathered, but a feeling of insecurity still lingers.

Ice Cave

I've been doing a bit of hiking, and a recent excursion took me down in a ravine where a stream flowed down from the top of the volcano.  Investigation of what appeared to be a small patch of snow turned out to be an entire cave carved out of snow.   Actually, it was a tunnel.  The snow had hardened into ice, and insulated by layer of natural mulch, it had survived the summer.  From above, the mulch camouflaged the existence of the tunnel. It was so interesting to discover this and see the tiny stream that had carved out the ice from below!

Staff Inservice

Today was a day off for the students, and an inservice day for teachers.  Since the district is made up of many remote villages, this is accomplished via VTC (video tele conferencing).

To get the day started in a timely fashion, a fun incentive was offered:  every school that emailed a staff photo to the District Office was entered into a drawing.  The prize was a big box of doughnuts sent on the next plane out to the winning village.  We didn't win, but here is our photo:

It's fun to see friends (& family!) on the monitor as different sites respond to questions during the training, but it is quite a long day of sitting!

PFD

Did you know that Alaska residents get paid to live here?  It's called the Permanent Fund Dividend, and each Alaskan gets it every year.  It's the way they share the oil revenue the state receives.

Today each person got just shy of $1200 deposited in their bank accounts.  This is quite a windfall for large families as each child is eligible, as well as adults.

I'm told that the rest of the month here is a challenge.  With a sudden influx of  spendable income, there is a flurry of visits to Bethel for shopping and/or the enjoyment of adult beverages.  So, our attendance may fluctuate wildly, and some who do show up are quite out of sorts, having been left in the care of older siblings or relatives, or even left to fend for themselves.

School can provide some structure and stability for these kids, I'm hoping to, at least!