Clams!

It was a digging-for-clams kind of a day today.  Sunny, a little chilly and a little windy,  Luis,  Mark (teacher friend) and I spent a couple of hours on a beach, making watery holes with rakes and plunging our hands in to feel around for clams.  It was a stunningly successful with just about every blind grasp producing a clam.

Fishing around for clams with Mark.

It was even easier than gathering cockles from the same beach last week.  Cockles look very similar to clams, but they are found just below the surface of the sand.  Pulling rakes through the top inch of sand overturned cockles upon cockles.  All four of us, along with our friend Nick, were successful cockle hunters that day.

The next day Nick and his family came for dinner and we steamed open the cockles.  Luis sautéed the cockles with garlic, butter and white wine and Nick brought pasta.  Wow.   I'm anticipating another great meal with today's bounty of clams.  We may not have any restaurants, coffee houses or breweries on the island but we've got loads of fresh seafood, there for the taking-- a low-tide,  a bucket and a rake is all you need.

The beaches here have only recently opened for gathering shellfish.  For the last four years the area has been plagued by PSP .  It seems we moved here at a good time.

The Miss Chiefs are going to State!

There's been a lot of excitement around here lately, with both the Chiefs (boys basketball), the Miss Chiefs (girls basketball) and the cheerleaders winning their district tournament in Ketchikan.  The town organized a pep rally last night to send them off to Anchorage.  I had never heard of a town organizing a pep rally for a high school and I wasn't  keen on going. Cheerleaders, speeches, pep band, I figured, like anywhere else.  But Maite and her friend really wanted to go, and I went into Good Mom mode and took them.

Holy smokes. This pep rally was anything but typical.  The dancers and drummers were in full Tsimshian regalia, decked in their black and red capes, conical hats, and tunics made of skins.  Five drummers, elaborately dressed, played drums made of stretched skin in a steady beat while they sang in Tsimshian.  The girls basketball team wore their uniforms,  and the cheerleaders were in their tiny pleated blue skirts and white sweaters.  Just about everyone got out to dance as their clans were called.

First were the Wolf clan;  at least a hundred people from the stands got up from their seats and joined the dance as they moved counterclockwise in a huge circle around the floor.  Next came the Eagle clan, extending their arms like wings as they moved around the Town Hall floor.  Raven and Killer Whale clans followed.  Maite went to the floor with her friend, who is a Killer Whale, and I was pleased to see her attempting the hopping movements of the dancers.   I jumped right in when the Butterfly Clan was called to dance. All of us non-Tsimshians, of which there are only a handful on the island, are part of the Butterfly Clan.  We are butterflies because we can easily flit away and are not of substance.  It's nothing personal.  It's just the way it goes.   Maite sat out when the Butterfly Clan danced.  Neither she nor Lucas liked to be reminded that they aren't part of a clan.

I think it's great fun to dance and love to be included.  Not everyone thinks so; I was amused to see the girls basketball coach, a fresh-faced teacher from Indiana, walking stoically on the floor, surrounded by his hopping, dancing basketball team.  Poor guy.  The boy's coach, another butterfly, couldn't bring himself to dance either.  He walked along in the circle, surrounded by his non-dancing team.  Getting teenage boys and young butterfly coaches to Indian dance is a stretch, I guess.

Besides the Tsimshian celebration, the cheerleaders performed their routine, the pep band played "Tequila"  (instead of shouting "Tequila!" everyone shouted the more politically correct "Metlakatla!")  the mayor waxed poetic, the coaches talked about how their teams arose from humble beginnings to go on to kick butt, etc, etc.

This place really comes together for basketball.  What an awesome send-off.

Go Miss Chiefs Go!  Onward to Anchorage!

Searching for cockles

A girl can only search for cockles for so long before she needs to take a break to write in the sand.

Cockles.  Not to be confused with clams.  

All steamed up.  Just need a little white wine and garlic . . . 

Happy families enjoy the fruits of their labor.

Beach time.  Here comes the clouds.

Lucas's team played on Saturday.

Lucas gets ready for the jump ball.  Bulls vs. Celtics.

Lucas and I rode out to the abandoned airport today.  15 miles round trip.

Bright sun for our bike ride!

The abandoned hangar is from WWII, when there was a base here on the island.  The airstrip was used for commercial flights through the 1970's.

People love to drive really, really fast on the abandoned runway.  Sometimes muscle cars come over from Ketchikan to drag race.

On the way back to town we checked out the city dump, otherwise known as the "Metlakatla Mall".  People come to rummage for hidden treasures.

Lucas found a few things he thought would be useful.  He wants to come back with his dad in the car.

Trailer Court

Note the large fishing boats.  Those bring in serious money.

Taking care of Bisness.

Trailer court

Traffic Jam.  Love the Smart Car.

New floor on the covered play area at the school.

Kelso's Choices, the conflict resolution curriculum we use in the elementary school got built into the new floor of the outdoor covered area.  Very useful. as so many kids' conflicts happen during recess.

Basketball fever, snow-topped cacti, a giant dancing Seahawk and other sundry matters

There is ice on the puddles today, and frost covers the roofs I can see from our living room window on the second floor.  The sky is clear, wide and light blue.   From our window I watch the ocean with my new Christmas binoculars.  The water and the skies are calm --resting up, I'm pretty sure.   It will be a good day to watch boats and float planes.

These are the days that take my breath away, when this island seems miraculous in its gorgeousness.  I took a bicycle ride this morning, the first one in months.  Peaceful.  Only the dogs were out on the streets.   This town sleeps on Saturday mornings, I thought.

Wrong.  City Hall was knee-deep in cars, children's basketball games already underway.  The stands were full, small children flitted around with small bags of chips from the concession area.    Little voices piped around me,  "Hi Miz Win-ter-steen!"

Basketball season is serious business around here.  Middle and High School kids play other sports, too  --wrestling, x-country, volleyball, swimming --but basketball is king.  During Varsity home games,  it can be hard to find a seat in the stands.   The high school gym is THE place to be,  the best show in town.  Boys, girls, junior varsity --it doesn't matter who's playing.  If there's a game somewhere, plan on a crowd.  Have the nachos and chili dogs ready.

They start'em young around here.  Kindergartners and first graders have their own league.  Second through fifth grade kids can join the Taquan Hoopers.  Middle School kids --boys and girls combined-- have a city league, too, after their school b-ball season finishes.  Meanwhile, the high school kids are traveling all over South East Alaska to play.

Lucas, a 5th grader, became interested in basketball this year.  This is a new development -- he's never shown much interest in organized sports before.  He's on a team  --the Bulls -- with two of his closest friends.  Lucas has never been around basketball much, so he's playing catch-up.  He had his second game today, and we made sure to compliment him on the things he did well.    It's fun to be a part of deeply important community activity.  The elementary kids like seeing their counselor at the games, cheering for them and complimenting them on their games.  Plus --and here's an important plus  --it's an indoor sport.  Clear, gorgeous winter days like today?  Few and far between.

Christmas in the desert and snow-chain fail

It's been awhile since I've blogged, so I can't forget to talk about Christmas with my parents in Tucson.  Tucson Arizona, I must say, has never been so beautiful, and so welcome, as it was this past December.  Glorious sunshine!  An outdoor community pool with a jacuzzi!  Tucsonians complained that it was chillier than usual, and it was, a bit.  We celebrated the New Years with a desert hike amongst snow capped Saguaro Cactus.  (the snow was gone by mid-afternoon.)  The kids reveled in the attention of their grandparents, and got their animal fix.  They've been missing their cat, Trudy, who went to live on an acreage near Fort Collins.

We flew home to heavy snowfall, which doesn't sound strange for Alaska, except that Metlakatla is, as Lucas called it, the "Florida of Alaska".   We've only see snow twice since we've been here, and --surprise, surprise--  one of those times we had to drive 15 miles from the ferry terminal to town.  We had purchased snow chains for just such an occasion.  You might think after 11 years in Northern Colorado, we would have had experience with snow chains.  In fact, we had never bothered with them before the day we got off the ferry to find a hefty snow fall in progress.  Luis and a friend managed to get the chains on, and off we went at about 20 miles an hour.  It was going fine, until the last steep hill kicked our Colorado butts.   Our 19 year old Subaru couldn't get traction and the wheels started to smoke.  We took the chains off to try it that way;  (I think we can, I think we can. . .  ) We made it up, barely, on the 4th try.

From our cozy home under the rain, we've been observing the temperatures around the state of Alaska.  Last week, we were at 45 above, and Fairbanks was at 45 below.  Sheesh.  No joke about Annette Island being the Florida of Alaska.  Colorado, in fact, is a much colder, snowier place.   We aren't doing what I consider winter activities.   Here, next to the sea,  our plans include searching for cockles, and octopus hunting.  (At this very moment, Luis is out on the beach trying to find where the octopus are hiding, to force them out with a hose and bleach).

Super What?  A Good Reason to Wear My Green Tights

Tomorrow is the Super Bowl.  I haven't been to a Super Bowl party in. .  let's see. .  . um . .  never. Back in Fort Collins during football season, everyone at work (Lincoln Middle School) would be in orange and black, and I was like "huh?  who?"  or,  "They are in the what-bowl?"  Here, though,  I have to take social opportunities where I can get'em.  Last week, for example,  I went to a Jamberry party (fingernail decorating), and spent the whole time eating snacks and drinking wine.   I didn't bother with my nails at all.

So it is that I will be attending my first ever Super Bowl party.  I suppose I should pick a side, and that side should probably be the Seahawks, as that's the team of choice around here.  To my many Bronco fan friends  --sorry about rooting for the team that kicked Bronco hiny last year.  But when in Rome. . .    Yesterday, at our Friday assembly in school, we had a local dancer don his elaborate, colorful bird outfit  (he painted blue and green Sea Hawk motifs all over it) and do an Indian style dance around a huge nest made of branches with Sea Hawk helmets in the middle.  Our resident drummer wrote a song and drummed it out, Tsimshian style, as the giant bird danced.  It was pretty cool and the kids loved it.  I took advantage of the situation to wear a blue dress with green tights.

Tying-of-the-Knot, Alaska-style

On January 28, 2000, in Bethel, Alaska during a winter blizzard,  Luis and I tied The Knot in my parents' living room.   My aunt played the keyboard, my father officiated, my mother made the cake and had flowers flown in from Anchorage.  My brother was there with his family,  as was a photographer who happened to be from Israel.  It was twenty below zero, and the wind shook the house.

We tend to like to do things a little differently.

This month, to celebrate 15 years of marriage,  Luis had flowers flown in from Ketchikan, in the local float plane that transports the U.S. mail and Metlakatla's liquor.  Yessiree, we are back to rural Alaska, where the adventure started.

So from our little Alaska home to yours, happy 2015.  May you have your own adventure this year. Or at least do things a little differently.  I know we will.

Winter Solstice.  Heading to Ketchikan on the ferry, with Annette Island behind us.

Waiting to fly in Ketchikan

The Bulls make a plan.

Super domestic husband made cupcakes for Maite's and my birthday, (Dec. 19  --same day!) to share at school.

Totems around town.

There's a house beneath those bushes.  Honestly.

I like this house.

Cool totem faces

Our street with snow.

Getting big.

Maite and I on a snowy Tucson hike

Snow in Tucson!  My dad and Cassie join us for a hike.

Anchorage, a trip down memory lane

I recently traveled to Anchorage for the state school counseling conference.  It was my first time back in 12 years.   Growing up in Bethel, Anchorage was our big city, a special place for us Bush kids, with all the people, cars, stoplights, restaurants, hotels.  "Grandma!" my brother exclaimed on the phone on a visit to Anchorage as young children.  "This hotel is so nice!  It has flush toilets and everything!".   Back then, I  puzzled over the men I saw wearing suits in downtown Anchorage  "There are a lot of Mormons here!"  I told my mom.  In my world, only Mormon Missionaries dressed up.

Indeed, the counseling conference was full of school counselors with the tell-tale signs of Bush life.  They were the ones dressed in hiking boots, jeans, puffy jackets or fleece.  I know what this is like, having been an itinerant social worker to 6 Yupik villages.  Back then, my wardrobe was best suited for stuffing myself into small 4 to 8 seater bush planes and keeping myself warm and dry as I walked between the landing strip and schools, schlepping my overnight bag and sleeping bag.   I went years without wearing a skirt.  Forget about fixing my hair --mostly it was static-ey from wearing a warm hat so much.   Itinerant folks and people who live in rural Alaska deal with the challenges of extreme weather, travel, isolation, running water,  lack of access to things such as fresh produce and dairy.  Not surprisingly, the turnover at these schools is high.

"You look very nice," a professionally dressed older women at my table tells me.  "Where do you live?"   I tell her Metlakatla and she looks surprised.  "But you look so urban!"  she exclaims.  Talk about a back-handed compliment.  "Thank you.  I think."  I responded.  The divide between rural and urban Alaska is big in so many ways.  She managed to come off like a snob, and take a swipe at bush Alaskans all at once.

Counselors fresh out of graduate school and new to Alaska were the most fun to talk to --the adventure of it all burned bright in their eyes.  For my part, life in Metlakatla is easy and comfortable in comparison.  "Alaska light,"  I think of it.   We have paved roads, a nice supermarket with fresh produce and reasonably priced goods (compared to the rest of rural Alaska), and, very importantly, flush toilets.  Not sure I could live with a honey bucket again.

The School Conference itself was well done, similar in quality to the last three state conferences in Colorado.  I mentioned this to the president, a counselor from Haines.  "Do you know Corey and Matthew?"  she asked me, referring to former Colorado school counseling presidents.  Not personally, but I did.  "It probably seems similar to the Colorado conference because we've worked a lot with Corey and Matthew".  The counseling world is small, apparently.

Apart from the conference, I visited Robin Reich and her family, and Sharon and Dan Boyette.  I spent A LOT of time as a child playing at their home, and it was great fun reminiscing.  On Friday I drove out to Wasilla to spend the evening with Jaci and Steve Murray and the kids.   Between Washington, Oregon, New Mexico, Colorado and Alaska,  Jaci and I have found ways to visit each other in the years since high school.  

As pleased as I was to reconnect with my roots,  I was happy that we didn't live in Anchorage.  Cities are not my thing, and Anchorage traffic is especially annoying.  (Not nearly as bad as Denver though).

Traveling home, I was on the milk-run to Ketchikan, with stops in Sitka and Juneau.  I wasn't happy about all time spent waiting around, taking off and landing, but at least we were graced with clear views of  wooded islands, glaciers, tiny inlets, occasional homesteads.   Whale spotter that I am, I saw a few spouting whales from above, the dark outlines of their bodies just below the surface. SouthEast Alaska is stunning, and I felt blessed to be there.

Thanksgiving!

Where do folks far from home spend turkey day in Metlakatla Alaska?  Answer:  at a potluck with a small crowd of teachers.  Lots of food, conversation, and games, late into the evening.   Naturally, it was cold and rainy, but we were toasty, warm, and happy.

I hope your Thanksgiving was as fun as our was and that Christmas season treats you well.  Happy December!  As always, I'll keep my eyes peeled for whales.

While on a run one day. . .

     Metlakatla is a great place to go for a run.  Within minutes out my front door, I am running on a road beside the ocean, on my way to a trail that winds through dense old-growth trees as it hugs the coast. By the time I get to the trail, I am warmed up and into the running groove, pleased with myself that I made the effort to get there.
     I say "make the effort"  because after three months, I've realized that Metlakatla is also a terrible place to run.  Wind, rain, and the ever shorter days have dealt a serious blow to my motivation.   Plus the last thing I want to do after work is exercise.
     Last Saturday was a clear, slightly chilly day, perfect to hit the trail.  Except that I really, really didn't want to go.  Uh oh, this is getting bad, I thought.  I made it out the door with a little urging from Luis.
      I considered my motivation problem as I ran through the forest.  The next local race  --a half marathon in Ketchikan--  isn't until May, too far in the future to get me serious about running right now.   Looking at my watch, I decided to push myself a little harder so the second half of the run would be faster than the first.
     Coming out of the trees, I saw an older man standing next to the road peering at the ocean.  He said something as I ran by.  "Excuse me?"  I stopped running.
      "Whales".  He pointed.
"Whales?"  Whoa! I thought.  Is this the moment I've been waiting for these last three months?  The man had a tiny pair of binoculars --what luck!--  and we spent the next 15 minutes pointing out whale tails and spray from blow holes.  There appeared to be two whales, a mother and her baby, probably Humpbacks, he said.  Earlier in the day,  he had seen a whole pod of whales, spectacular as they breached.
      I eventually continued my run, but stopped again to talk with friends who were strolling by.  I happily told them all about my whale spotting.

I don't have the answer to my dwindling motivation to run.  I don't think seeing whales has solved the problem.  But the moment was sweet, and long awaited.  I'm a whale spotter!  And I have running to thank for it.  (plus an old man and a pair of 'noc).

My favorite run.

My favorite run.

I was running on this road when I stopped to whale watch.  On the right side is the cemetery.  Graveyard with a view. 

Dock full of fish nets.  This was the dock we jumped off this summer with the local kids.

The red-roofed building is Leask Market, the only place in town to get groceries. It's open from 10 to 6 during the week, and 11 to 5 on weekends.

Teen Center.  

Richard Johnson Elementary School.

The students cut out their handprints, wrote a message on them, and pasted them here.  Very cool visual for Red Ribbon Week.

The entrance of our new, colorful school.

Lots of room!  I love my office!

Lucas and friend on their bikes.  There are boats parked on the streets EVERYWHERE!

Main Street

Parking lot, Metlakatla style.

Fishing is serious business around here.

Something to do.

Picture taken after a hard rain.

Oldest church in town.

Dude, you have a totem pole coming out of your head.

Maite explores at low tide.

Metlakatla specializes in spectacular rainbows.

The Long House.  Traditional Tsimshian dance groups practice regularly here.  We attended an event here last month.

We scored some halibut!  

It's official.

 Good spot to rest.