If This Is Tuesday, This Must Be Kalskag

The photos in this blog post are all from the flight to Kalskag and from Kalskag itself, of which more later.

Yesterday (Monday) I was at the High School in Aniak. I started at 9am and had classes all day until 3.30pm. It was lovely to see them all again and a lot of them remembered me. They’ve all grown up so much in the year and a half since I was here last. One of the girls who has e-mailed me poems occasionally since I was last year, brought me a whole bunch of poems to read. Her poems are very personal and she told me that she can write things down that she can't say in person to people. I told her that was a good way of doing it and that she expressed herself very well.

My first class of the day was a Junior High class. We did some character exercises. This was very funny – one of the boys in the class was a real joker – and then we did a ‘one sentence’ story. I gave them the first line of a story and they then had to write one sentence, before passing it on for the next person to write a line “This is hard, Miss Donna,” they said. But they did it, and they came up with some excellent stories.

The next four classes were senior High School students. With all of those I did a crime story in 5 paragraphs. I gave them instructions as to what to write about in each paragraph (para 1 – tell us what the crime is and introduce the protagonist, para 2 – who is the villain etc etc). It was a real challenge for some of them and they struggled at the start, but it was so wonderful when the idea just seemed to click with them and every single one of them wrote a story that had great things in it. Some of the stories were wonderful, and the students wrote pages and pages in the hour we had.

Then with each class I did a very short non-fiction exercise – one class I told them I was their fairy godmother and could grant them 3 wishes, one class I asked to tell me about a time they had been blamed for something they hadn’t done. Every year, here, somebody makes me cry. This time it was a girl who wrote a very touching piece. I had asked them to write something with the title “I Remember...” about a memory – any memory. Jaydean wrote a really nice piece about celebrating Slaviq (Russion Orthodox Christmas, held on January 7th) with a friend of hers called Jason. She obviously cared for Jason very much and her story made me smile – it was very descriptive and gave me a real insight into Slaviq. What I didn’t know until the end was that Jason was a Marine and had died recently in battle. I couldn’t hold back the tears, and neither could she. Afterwards I thanked her for sharing such a personal story and asked her how she felt while she was writing it. She said that it felt good for her to write it, and she didn’t expect to cry. It touched me very much.

After each of the classes, some of the students brought me pieces of writing for me to comment on. These were excellent – one boy had a wonderfully descriptive piece about his summer vacation, the joker from the previous class had some fiction about an alien (I made him promise to e-mail it to me when it was done). My friend Juliana who I spent some time with last year, had a wonderfully imaginative story for me – she is a very talented writer. As was Francis – his poetry is stunning. I told him he must submit it to magazines and competitions. Very dark, very powerful. I asked him if it helped him to write poems about things that were troubling him and he said it did. I hate to think that he has so much trouble that he has to write such dark poetry but it was amazing writing.

In the last class of the day, as well as helping some of the students individually, we also talked about food (yes! my favourite topic). For some reason, they all went "Ew" when I told them what haggis was, but wondered why I did the same when they gave me the recipe for Stinkheads. And yes, Stinkheads are as bad as they sound. If you really want to make them here's the recipe: catch some fish, remove all the bits that you want to eat and put it to one side. Take all the bits that you think are rubbish, wrap them in a cloth and bury them in the ground. Forget about them for a couple of weeks, dig them up, eat, enjoy, throw up. Apparently, burying them in the ground makes them ferment. Or, as I prefer to call it, rot. The yup'ik have been eating them for hundrds of years with no ill effects. However, the advent of modern technology and invention of plastic bags meant that some people buried their fish in plastic bags. And died of botulism poisoning.

I love these students. It was an honour and a pleasure to spend the day with them.

Then it was a ten minute flight to Kalskag – 5 minutes of which I flew the plane. Cheryl was in the back and I didn’t make her sick at all. At one point Fred turned round to her and shrugged as though to say “What can I do?”

As we neared Kalskag, he said to me “Bring it in towards the runway, between those hills.”

So I aimed for between the hills and kept flying. After a couple of minutes I said “Where is the runway, anyway?”

Fred looked at me and laughed. “You can’t see it? You’re heading straight towards it.”

“Oh, well that’s lucky then.”

As usual, I gave the plane back as we were coming in to land. You have to do all sorts of technical stuff when you’re coming in to land. I’m not good at the technical stuff. I am rubbish at multi-tasking.

So we arrived in Kalskag, which is actually split into two cities - Lower Kalskag, where I'm staying, which has about 260 residents, and is primarily Russian Orthodox, and Upper Kalskag, about two miles away, which has around 230 residents and is primarily Catholic.

I'm staying with Karen and Dave, two of the teachers at the elementary school. I always stay with them while I'm here and they're lovely. Dave and the husband of one of the other teachers had caught a bear, so we had that for dinner. It tasted delicious. They caught it coming out of a blueberry patch, and that's why it tasted so good. They don't taste as nice when they've been caught by the river, and they taste even worse when they're caught in the town dump.

We also had something I never knew existed - powdered butter. Aniak, which has a large enough runway that the larger planes can come in from Anchorage and Bethel (and when I say 'larger' I mean relatively speaking) gets some fruit, vegetables, milk, butter, eggs and cheese. The other villages sometimes struggle to get it. So Karen and Dave use powdered butter. It's powder and you add water. And, most surprisingly, it tastes like butter

After dinner, we went for a walk around Lower Kalskag. Jenny, one of the teachers, has recently brought in some bees, so we went to see the hive. And then we walked around and about. This picture is rush hour in Lower Kalskag. There are very few trucks and cars here (and those that are here seem to not work any more, as you can see from other pictures, so most people use 4-wheeler ATVs.

This is a picture of Jenny and Porcupine the dog - so-called because he looks like a porcupine.

There are two Russian Orthodox churches here, only one is in use today.
On the picture, the graves outside the fence are the graves of babies who died before they could be baptised. They are not allowed to be buried in the churchyard itself.

The other church is ruined, but there are still graves there. I met Levi who was in one of my classes last year and he took a walk to the ruined church with me and told me where his Uppa (grandfather) and his Gram (grandma) and his uncle (uncle :o) ) are buried, and then we went down to the river where he pointed out an eagle and told me where he fishes and rows his boat and drives his snowmobile. On the way back to Karen and Dave's we saw another girl who was in my class last year - Anniemary - who came over and gave me a big hug.

Then it was back to Karen's. While I had been away for my walk she had made the most gorgeous biscuits. I deserved one after my walk so I had two.

"You Speak Funny"

Post number three from the Bush. Oh, and I should point out that these posts get very little editing. I just write down my thoughts as they come out of my head. Iknow -scary thought.

First of all, here is a picture of my lovely hosts, Emily and Ronnie and their gorgeous new baby Ryder, who is 8 months old and has the cutest smile imaginable.

Today was my first day in the schools - the elementary school in Aniak. I spent an hour with each of the classes from kindergarten through to 5th and 6th grade (because there aren't many students, some of the grades are taught together).

It was wonderful to see so many old friends again and meet some new ones. I met Cheryl who is a wonderful lady and is the district's librarian, and who is going to accompany me to Kalskag, Sleetmute and Stony River. A lot of the students remembered me and I got hugs (maybe because they knew I had sweets and cookies and pencils.

This year, the district has a special library grant and the staff have worked really hard to improve literacy. In order to do so, the librarian, Carol (who is so keen and enthusiastic and really inspires the students), had devised a special competition where students who read more than 10 books in the last month, and passed a special quiz on each book, achieving over 80%, would get their names put into a hat and would win a prize. Between them the students read over 300 books. One student read more than 20 and another 11 read over 10 each. I was given the honour of drawing the names out today.

But first, it was classes. First of all, I had the second graders (age 7ish). We did an exercise called 'Box of Impossibilities'. First of all, we discussed all the things that wouldn't fit in a box (house, school, the sun, a star, rainbows) and then they all picked cards on which I had written characters (vampire, clown, teacher, baby, dog etc) and they had that character in their story, which had to be about a box of impossibilities. I had some great stories written for me - very imaginative and often very funny. One student's character card was 'grandmother'. He had a second grandmother jump out of the box and frighten the first grandmother. The student who picked a clown had a whole circus inside his box of impossibilities, complete with elephants and more clowns.

With the 3rd and 4th graders (age 8 and 9), we rewrote Cinderella. I had written an alternative Cinderella story set in the village (snowboot instead of glass slipper, and the ugly sisters had been to Anchorage to get botox and plastic surgery). Again, the students came up with some wonderful stories. We had male Cinderellas, Fairy God-babies and Fairy God-dogs, we had mean and nasty Cinderellas (in one case the Fairy Godmother gave her an attitude change rather than a makeover) and nice and kind stepsisters, we had Cinderella going to a Halloween Ball, we had her travelling in a carriage made out of an apple and an onion, we had mice turned into moose and cats turned into wolves. It was a lot of fun.

With the 5th and 6th graders I gave them each a character card (recycling the ones I used with the 2nd graders) but I added a setting card (tower, ocean, cave, castle, bridge, mountain) and a dilemma (someone loses something, someone is kidnapped, someone is being bullied, someone is followed). So we had a pirate who lost his treasure up a mountain, a king of an underwater kingdom who told a whale a lie. These students have great imaginations.

With the Kindergarten class I read them a story and they drew pictures of things that were happening in the story (it was one of this class who told me I talked funny :o) ), and with the 1st graders I gave them a magic stone which helped them to make up characters. As there were only four of them, we also did one of my favourite things with the youngest students which was to get them to draw an imaginary door and go through to a special planet. They then told me what they could see, hear and smell on the planet and they could bring one thing back. Last year, we ended up with lots of food items being brought back, this year it was a tiny blue tyrannosaurus rex, a lion, a pizza, and a large, unspecified dinosaur that had problems fitting through the door.

There's a lot of differences in the skill of the children. In one class, almost half the class has some level of Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. Many students are two or three grades below where they should be. Lots have missed 50 or 60 days of school. Sometimes they come to school having only had a few hours sleep because they've been up until 1am or 2am because their parents have been drinking. The teachers here are amazing. They are very special people and do so much to bring the students up to the level they should be at. They care so much about what they do and about the students. Like all the other schools here, Aniak Elementary is a bright and happy place to be. The kindergarten class were all keen to take me to see the sunflowers they are growing, the childrens' stories and pictures line the walls, and I was surrounded by happy smiling faces, all wanting to ask me questions. Despite their problems all the students are bright, funny, sweet, inquisitive and friendly. They do my heart good.

And, finally, a couple of photos of Aniak itself. This is the library - it's tiny - how wonderful though, I love it. Next to the library is a honey bucket (a very modern one though, compared to some).

And this is where I might have ended up had Emily and Ronnie not been so lovely and let me stay with them. This is a hotel. No, really it is. I know it looks like the set of a Stephen King movie, but it's a hotel. I wanted to go inside. Apparently the owner has 40 cats. Let's look at a close-up shall we? I wish I knew what was in the windows...or maybe I don't - it may be all that is left of past guests. Is that a shadowy hooded figure in the downstairs window? Standing behind what looks remarkably like the stand holding a sub-machine gun? I may just have to creep up and try the door one day while I am here.

I was quite sad to leave the school this afternoon. I know I'm going to other schools but the number of students who said to me "Will you be back in our school?" was amazing. I wish I could spend a week in each school. But I will come back.

As I sit at Emily's dining room table and type this post, the snow is gradually disappearing from the mountains on the other side of the river. A lot of people live right on the river, which is the lifeblood of the community. It makes for a gorgeous view but, more importantly, it's where a lot of their food comes from and is, apart from by plane, the only way to travel between villages - either by boat in summer, or snowmachine in winter. A couple of the students couldn't come into school today as they live on the opposite side of the river and the river is starting to melt so it's not safe to snowmachine across, but it's also not possible yet to come across by boat. Several people have said to me that when I go to the upriver schools I might be lucky enough to be here for breakup. I hope I am, it sounds spectacular.

This evening they had a "Meet the Author" (that's me by the way) event at the library. Adults and children from the community came and we sat around and chatted and they asked me questions about writing and Scotland. And we had cake. This banner was made by some of the High School students. It's really clever. The first O is full of flowers, the second is a fire, and the second N is a fish. It's really lovely and I wish I could have taken it home with me..

Half way across the river (which is about half a mile wide) there is an island. After dinner, Ronnie said "There's a moose on the island." I rushed to the window. I could see nothing but the reed-y things which cover the island.

"A moose?"

"Cow," said Ronnie.

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way Ronnie, fair enough, but where's the moose?"

"No, it's a female moose."

"I can't even see the bloody moose, let alone what sex it is."

So Ronnie took pity on me and passed me a pair of binoculars. And there was the moose. My first moose in the wild, it was really exciting. Apparently, you can only hunt moose between 1st and 20th September (unfortunately, at that time, they've stopped eating and are only drinking (sounds like Glasgow, only without the kebab on the way home) and they are all rolling in their own pee, (it's something to do with sex - it happens in Glasgow all the time - do men think that women will be attracted to them after they fall over in the urinals) so the meat can sometimes be a little weird tasting), and you're only allowed to catch one a year (moose, not Glaswegian male).

Talking of food, I'm going to add another thing to the - admittedly short - list of Things I Do Not Wish To Try. Along with Stinkheads (trust me, you don't want to know), I have now added beaver feet. Mind you, I have to say that if someone actually offered me a Stinkhead or a beaver foot, I would have to try it, just because I would never forgive myself if I didn't. I'm just hoping they are never on offer.

Wolves, Honey Buckets and Wanted Posters

Well, here I am in Aniak. The flight was great fun. When I got on the plane, I realised that my seat did not have a window, so I asked the flight attendant if I could move forward to the very front.

"Of course," she said "We like to have as much weight as possible at the front."

"Thank you very much, glad to be of assistance," said Airplane Ballast.

Then we went through the usual flight safety demonstrations - "This is how you work the seatbelt." She used my knee as a rest for the intercom phone as she demonstrated. "Here are the emergency exits. Sick bags are up the front here - you'll need them." She was right. It was, shall we say, a slightly bumpy ride. I loved it.

She also announced the co-pilot as Warren Beatty. "No, wait, that's not right, it's Joe Beatty - he's not as good looking as Warren." It turned out that only I and the flight attendant knew who Warren Beatty was, so she announced to the rest of the plane. "This lady and I know - it's our age."

"So not only am I fat, but I am old and fat?" I said. She laughed and passed me a bag of potato chips (see how easily I slip into American?) to shut me up.

My luggage all arrived safely, and after settling in at Emily's I went down to the river for a walk. It's still iced over, but there are patches where the ice is very thin. It's also really, really muddy, and my pink Doc wellies sank up to the ankles in gloriously squelchy mud. Here are a couple of pictures - it's totally different from when I saw it last time. This photo was taken in the same place as the two photos that say Kuskokwim River 16 October and Kuskokwim River 23 October. While I was out on my walk I waved to a few people and they waved back. It's an amazingly friendly place - everyone leaves their door unlocked - if I was to do that in Glasgow I'd come back to find the place stripped and all the paint missing from the walls, swapped for a huge steaming keech in the middle of the living room floor.

Emily's husband made us the most gorgeous dinner with some of the salmon he caught last season (apparently, one day he caught 22 fish in an hour - what were they doing - jumping into his arms?) and we had a glass of wine (Aniak is a damp village - you can own alcohol but not sell it. Most of the villages in the area are dry - it's illegal to possess alcohol at all).

Emily and I also went to the store where I checked out the outrageously priced fruit and veg. As we went in, I got a bit of a shock. There was a poster on the notice board announcing "Donna Moore is Back!" I checked, but there was no "Reward Offered - Dead or Alive" at the bottom which was a bit of a relief, especially since most people round here have guns, knives and, very probably (and, of most concern to Airplane Ballast,) harpoons.

Last night it was still light at 11pm when I went to bed. I opened my window (it's really not that cold here, despite the ice and the remnants of the snow).

This morning Emily said to me "Did you hear the neighbours last night? I think they were having a party." The neighbours do not have running water or a flushing toilet, so, apparently, they were running the honey bucket out several times to empty it (where, I did not ask).

"No," I said. "But I heard the wolves howling at about 6am."

"Wolves?" said Emily, puzzled. "I think you'll find they were huskies."

I was almost as upset as when I found out last time I was here that what I had thought were the Northern Lights were actually the lights from the airport. The regular sweeping motion should probably have given it away, but there you go.

Today I am off to the Auntie Mary Nicoli Elementary School (all the schools here are named after an Elder). Happy, happy Donna - I get to spend the day with 55 four to eleven-year olds. More tomorrow.

Tata

The Fat Bird Has Landed

It's not often I get to say this but...I arrived safely in Anchorage and so, miraculously, did my luggage. I think the luggage fairies spared me this time. Instead, they had another little treat for me. At every single security check I went through (Glasgow, Amsterdam and Seattle), a little clutch of security people gathered around the x-ray machine to stare at my luggage. I was then made to open it and explain why my wellies were full of pens, chocolates and underwear. I knew it was a mistake when I did it, but a pair of wellies can hold a lot of pens and chocolates. The underwear was just to stop the pens and chocolate falling out. As always, I got my usual heavy petting at security at Schipol airport. This time, they also fingered my knickers.

In another Yin/Yang type moment, on the plane from Amsterdam I had two seats to myself. Delicious. On the other hand, on the plane from Seattle to Anchorage I was seated between two large men whose testicles were, apparently, the size of watermelons, since they did that whole, annoying "I'm going to sit with my legs as far open as I can and squeeze you into a tiny little space" thing. By the time we arrived, I was squidged, pretzel-like into a two inch space in my own bloody seat. Still, I got my own back - I managed to spill cranberry juice on one of them and jabbed the other one in the ribs with my elbow when I was opening my peanuts. I also fell asleep and drooled all over one of them.

When I arrived at Anchorage, I was met by the lovely Elisa from Alaska Sisters in Crime who took me to Office Depot where I bought $200 of pens, pencils and paper. She then deposited me back at my hotel where it was room service and sleep. Of course, I woke up bright eyed and bushy-tailed at 2am this morning (11am in the real world).

Today I am off to Aniak, the biggest of the villages I am visiting, and the only one which has an airport that can take a large plane (when I say 'large' I mean one that seats more than 12 people. I am currently sitting at the airport. And so begins the whole trauma of telling complete strangers your weight. The last time I was here, every time someone asked my weight, I shaved 20lbs off it, but added in "but I have heavy boots."

This time, I decided to be truthful, mainly because I could see the dawning look of horror on the face of the only man on our flight as, when each female passenger went up to the counter, they all, without fail...well, quite frankly, they lied. One woman must have shaved a whole 100lbs off her weight. She quite clearly was not 110lbs - unless she had bones made of helium. So, feeling very self-righteous, I told the truth. I walked up to that counter and said "Hello, my name is Donna and I weigh a horrible number of pounds." (Yes, dear reader, I will tell the Pen-Air staff all over Alaska, and people I am travelling with (who are, no doubt going to arrive in Aniak and tell everyone else - it's a small place after all), but I will not tell you.) Oh, and when I say I told the truth, I mean I only shaved 5lbs off my weight. Or maybe 10lbs, after that delicious Alaskan beer battered halibut and fries I had for dinner the night before. Despite my honesty, the Pen-Air check-in person looked at me dubiously and wrote in her notes - I'm not very good at reading upside down but I'm sure it said 'Passenger appears to be a compulsive liar - add at least 20lbs - 'heavy boots' my butt.'

So there we are. I am here, on my way to the villages and feeling very excited. Tonight there is a 'meet the author' event at the High School community library (I'm not sure which author they're bringing in for that, I hope they don't throw up out of nerves). And tomorrow I spend the day at the Auntie Mary Nicoli Elementary School in Aniak, which has around 60 students. Assuming I can get a wireless connection, more soon.

Bye for now, your Alaskan correspondent.