Saturday, April 27, 2013

Back from Chevak

It was a great week filled with lots of things to do.  I promised some pictures.  These are from the plane headed out to Chevak:

This is again from the plane, a great shot of the tundra still frozen.

The edge of Scammon Bay (another village).  Look at that sky!

From inside of the plane.  As you can see, it is intimate!

Me in my gear!

Another installment from the book:

About mid way through winter, Susana decided to close down her bed and breakfast.  I was left with finding new accommodations.  The weather had become too harsh even for a seasoned transplant and she closed shop and headed for more palatable weather.  Finally, a new room was located, however, it wasn’t particularly clean, the water disgustingly orange/brown with a smell I found especially nauseating and the heat and hot water sometimes didn’t work.  I had kitchen privileges and shared a bathroom with several other women.  There were laundry facilities there also, however, soon my clothes all took on an orange tinge that wouldn’t leave and the smell clung to every fiber.  I found myself constantly seeking something to drink.
There had been a kind of insulation at Susana’s.  Most of the people who stayed there were somehow connected to the schools, as I was.  But this was not the case at the new house.  There were women there from all walks of life.  Their stories were frequently dubious and I spent more and more time in my room.  One Native woman was there, having left her small children in Idaho.  She missed the Bethel culture.  Another was transplanted from Baltimore, stating very loudly she was fed up with America and decided to leave it so she came to Alaska. 

I'd love to hear from you, if you are out there, reading.  Take care and enjoy! 


  1. Me, again. I am sorry you are not getting a lot of comments on your interesting story. I wrote earlier that I love the serial/journal format. Not to mention your GUTS! ! and the dedication to the kids you serve. I moved from the beach of California to 45 miles from the Canadian border--North Dakota. Where it is too cold to snow. What the hell were we thinking? Tomorrow I fly 27 hours back to the States from the middle east where we have lived for 12 years. Who says life is not an adventure? Email me if would would choose.

    1. Thank you so very much! You are too right! Life is the biggest of adventures! Safe travels to you! C