The Goose Is on the Table

I couldn't wait until the weekend to post these two photos and share a story.  Today was a phenomenal day of teaching, and I am nowhere near ready for tomorrow, but I seem to give the best lessons that way.  Inspiration usually strikes within about 15 minutes before the bell.  I'm not worried.

The above picture was taken while canoeing on the Yukon River with a fellow teacher from the NE Nebraska area.  Again, Mount Pilcher is in the background, and the water was obviously spectacular that day.  My phone camera does it justice, no?  We took advantage of the sunny, 65-degree day and canoed for about three hours.  I even had a bit of a tan line going on my arms!  I was impressed.  And sore the next day, but it was so worth it.

So, remember that little story about how some students offered to go hunting for me, clean the game, and provide me with food because my own hadn't yet arrived from the abyss of the Bethel airport?  Well, Monday night, one of my darling 8th grade students delivered.  Truly. "Goose" showed up at my door at about 7:15 pm, the spoils of his Sunday hunting trip in one hand and a dish of aqutuk (a-GOO-duk; Eskimo ice cream) in the other.  I had just started supper, my mind trying to figure out what to teach the next day, and he said, "Here's your meat! I got you a goose and a duck, Miss Susan, but you gotta pluck 'em and gut 'em, because that's woman's work."  He grinned.

OK.  Game on, Goose.  I figured I better put up or shut up.  One problem: I only have butter knives in my kitchen.

I called another teacher who always has his knife on him, and invited him down to the fun. Since he lives at the school, he appreciates being called away for any reason at all.  For the next hour and a half, Math Teacher and I plucked and eventually gutted the birds after some instruction from Goose.  The anatomy dork in me really had a lot of fun, though the smell was a bit more offensive than I expected.  (Keep in mind this happened right on my kitchen floor, supper stalled on the stove, with only some packing paper hastily thrown down to prevent a major disaster.)  I've definitely been through similar and worse things, having worked in an anatomy lab skinning cats and also as a nanny.  I'm no worse for wear, and I'm sure Dad is (and Grandpas Al & John are as well) pretty proud!

Goose shows us how it's done.

8:45 pm rolls around, and the birds were ready to be baked.  We threw a few random sauces, spices, and onions inside and over the top.  Goose chose to add some honey as well, and in the oven they went.  This darling student stayed for a while and chatted, telling me about how his mom passed away last year and his dad lives in another village.  He has every reason to be mad at the world, but he is one of my kindest students, always on task, pushing in chairs at the end of class, and generally setting a good example for others.  I'm pretty lucky he is on my side.  Goose wanted to stay and try the meat, but I thought that maybe, just maybe, he should get home to his (apparently awesome adoptive) parents on a school night.  And maybe, just maybe, I should figure out what to teach the next day.  

[Just as a side note, I am not always winging it; we have had a crazy schedule this week due to high schoolers camping and one core teacher being gone with no substitute.  It has made for longer block periods with larger numbers of students in each classroom, and to make things worse, the weather is not cooperating--we've had rain all week, making for some very antsy teenagers.]

To close, the birds turned out really well!  I do favor duck meat over the goose meat.  I gave some to Goose and Math Teacher, and I plan on attempting to make soup this weekend.  Thanks to Mom and Dad for letting me bug them while they were making soup all these years!  That skill will definitely be valuable. 

Cheers!

Week One: A Recap

Well, y'all, I survived the first week, and I am loving it!

Some of you have asked if it feels weird to have my own classroom, and the answer is simply no.  It feels right and my own, and as though the timing is perfect for me to be here.  We have a strong set of teachers and a great support system within the school.  I have extremely bright students and others who need some extra guidance.  The one thing I will have to get used to is the fact that consequences really have no meaning here; causing trouble at school will not necessarily result in reinforcement for better behavior from home, which is disappointing.  We do not give grades.  Students must pass all standards in each grade level before they move onto the next level in each subject.  While this allows students to move at their own pace, it does nothing for those who are not motivated.  If anyone has any plausible solutions, please let me know!  I can't fight every battle, but I also want to be effective while I'm here. Trust me, I wish I could successfully implement meaningful consequences and keep my classes on the same page, but it just is not the way that things are done here.

Some of you have asked about my living situation.  The best way to describe it is this: temporary.  Right now, I am living in a 2-bedroom house on my own (I was the odd female out).  The other teachers are paired up in additional 2-bedroom houses.  At first I was worried about this, because I thought loneliness and isolation might set in, but I had nothing to fear.  We teachers all live within a 15-second walk of each other, so if I do need company, someone is always close by.  Students also often stop by in the evenings, especially the younger elementary ones, asking for cookies or wanting to play tag.  Really, the challenge is actually finding a few moments alone to myself!  Brand new teacher housing just south of the school is being built right now, which will consist of apartment-like units.  They claim we will be moving in during October sometime, but those who have been here a while say that January is more likely.  Call me crazy, but moving during January thisclose to the Arctic Circle just doesn't sound like a fun (or even pleasant) endeavor.  I'm praying that we move sooner rather than later, but I also hope that it doesn't coincide with quarter grades!  Yikes!  Time will tell.

Yesterday, Thursday, at about 4:42 pm, I finally got notice that my food order had arrived from Anchorage!!  Great news, except that the post office closes at 5 pm.  I flew out of the building and caught the principal just in time to ask him to take me there and pick it up (he has access to one of the few vehicles--a huge Ford truck--in the village).  Three students, bless their hearts, asked if I needed help and joined us.  They hopped in the back and helped me carry the boxes into my house, even helping to unpack them.  (Don't get worried; another teacher was there to witness the event).  I thanked them with chocolate (I FINALLY HAVE CHOCOLATE!!) and a roll of tape (there was an inexplicable amount of all kinds of tape left in my house), and they went on their way.  As soon as they left, I absolutely tore into random food items: a handful of dark chocolate chips, a bowl of chips and salsa, and crackers and peanut butter comprised the most excellent and random supper I've ever had.  I hadn't been "full" in about two weeks.   Now that I know that food orders can meander for a while before arriving, I plan on ordering more food as soon as I am paid.  For those of you who are curious, no, I haven't been starving--other teachers have been offering their extras, as well as the school counselor and the principal.  "Need" certainly takes on a different meaning when we all are rationing our reserves.  To repay their kindness, I plan on hosting a dinner at some point and bringing a popcorn cake to the lunchroom.

I must note the following story:  This Wednesday, one female student who had been keeping me at arm's length raised her hand and asked how long I planned to stay.  I replied that I'd like to stay five years, to which she grinned, because teachers average about two or three.  Then I joked that I might not even last the year if my food didn't come soon.  Instead of laughing, about 5 students became quite serious and offered to go hunting for me, clean the game, and put it in my freezer!  I was pretty touched by that.  When I told them all today that my food came, they cheered!   People take care of each other out here because they must.  It's just the way of life.

OK, enough blabbing.  I've had a wonderful first week and am so excited for the year ahead. I have a few pictures for you!

Here is a better view from my room on a sunny day. 

This view is to the north out of my classroom window.  Nice playground, huh?
The green area just to the left of the playground is actually a chunk of tundra.

This is a fish house that belongs to the family of a few
of my students.  The fish dry and then are handed out
like jerky.  It's called "chum" and is really tasty!

As promised, the boots picture.  This is Thursday morning, a mild day in terms of
muddiness. These "wellies" are about 2 sizes too big, so walking in them is both
challenging and very comical.  I pretty much do high-knees exercises all
the way to the school.  My track coaches should be proud!

Just FYI...

Hello all,

A few of you have commented that you cannot post comments or that you have to create a profile to do so.  Please don't feel obligated to do this; feel free to email me at sestotz@gmail.com---that seems to work the best.  If you already have created a profile, more power to ya!

To answer Shoe, yes, the berries are tiny and they do pack quite a powerful punch--I dare say they are better than anything I've ever had from a store.  We successfully made a berry crisp that disappeared last night at a staff dinner, and are already scheming as to how we can make it into jelly or a chutney of some sort, as the blackberries aren't as sweet.  Dad, any tips?

Again, to Shoe: I should have clarified my comments before about the mud.  The streets are uneven dirt and rock, not really even qualifying as gravel.  When it rains, the mud is three inches deep at the minimum, thus the muck boots.  The kid inside me had a blast, because with the boots, I'm free to slosh right through puddles.  Actually, not free to do this, but expected to by the kiddos!   Next time it rains, I'll be sure to capture myself in my stylish footwear for you.

To those of you who are wondering, the tribe up here is Yup'ik.  That's not a typo.  They mostly live a life of subsistence; that is, they fish, hunt, berry-pick, etc.  Kids play outside around the clock.  As long as it is light outside, people are out walking around, or "playing out," as they call it.  Kids often pound on our doors to come play tag or to beg for cookies (which I honestly do not have as of yet---still waiting on my food and totes...).   That said, it can be a challenge to find a moment to myself, as there are only so many places to go here in the village.  Right now, I see that as a good thing.  We will need each other to get through the long winter.

One last thing: if you have Skype, let me know at the above email address.  I'd love to chat!

Bye for now!

Berry Picking and Classroom View

Y'all wanted more pictures, so here are just a few.  

Above is the view from my classroom.  That's the Yukon River.  In the foreground you can see a patch of tundra and one of the 3 main roads in the village.  I know my brothers are a teensy bit jealous :).  I should have waited a few hours for it to get nice and sunny, which it has been, but I'm sure I'll be taking several throughout the year.

My third day here, a returning teacher took us berry picking out on the tundra--which, it turns out, is only about a half mile east and north of the school and even closer to our housing.  How convenient! It wasn't what I expected, but it was a good time!  Walking on the tundra is interesting--it's like a giant sponge, and completely bounces back after stepping on it, almost like those giant gymnastics landing beds.  I guess I thought it would be more firm.  It's full of different types of plants - blueberries, blackberries, red and green grasses, shrubs, and a teeny tiny venus fly-trap type thing.  I wasn't expecting that much diversity--bear with me folks, I'm a science teacher now- but it truly was very cool.  The berries were scattered and very low to the ground, which made for a decent workout - my legs were so tired the next day!

Mt. Pilcher.  The tundra in the foreground is where we berry-picked.

Mt. Pilcher, I hear is a nice climb--only about 5 hours.  I also hear it is good to have a gun on hand in case any four-legged visitors show up.  I might wait to tackle that one until I can convince someone to be a guide for me up there. Below is my bucket; each of us were able to pick about 2 cups before calling it a day.  These "Alaskan" berries were pretty small--most were the size of a pea or smaller.

The fruits of our efforts--pun intended.  (You're welcome, Aunt Sue!)

Day 1: Getting to the village

       Prep for teaching in Marshall at the downtown Anchorage Hilton was a whirlwind week of meeting new people, learning district coding rules and computer systems, shopping for the “bush,” and a ridiculous amount of food.  Everyone was very welcoming and excited about the school year.  We got to know each other quickly and very well!

       Anchorage is a beautiful city, surrounded by Cook Inlet and Turnagain Arm, as well as the Chugach Mountains.  It was quite the nice welcome to such a vast and varied state.  I was able to view some of the sights and eat some amazing seafood with my mom and dad, who both welcomed the 65 degrees sans humidity bliss with open arms (as did I). 

       In preparing for living in a dry village (that is, no adult beverages are permitted anywhere in the town), we teachers chose to make the most of the Woodshed, a karaoke and dancing bar across from the Hilton.  Cramming a busy week of nightlife into the already crowded and information overloaded week made for some long days, but it was time well spent.  I think I have even determined my best karaoke songs for the future.  Friends, be warned!

       Leaving for my village, Marshall, started out better than it ended.  I gave up trying to sleep at about 4:00 am and got ready to board the plane to Bethel at 6:50 am.  A bonus: on the trip to the airport, a lone moose ambled through a major intersection, taking her sweet time finding the other side of Spenard Avenue.  Good thing traffic was pretty light!

       I arrived in Bethel at about 8 am, not worried about my hour-ish layover.  Soon enough, I was on a 6-seater Cessna plane that stopped briefly in Russian Mission, then took off for Marshall.  Unfortunately, we had to turn back to Bethel due to fog.  The next few hours were frustrating, as my flight was moved to 11:00…then 4:00…then 4:30…and finally at about 6:30 I got on another little Cessna.  I greeted many of my friends during the day – who had wisely taken later flights - and watched them take off to their respective villages.  I tried to fill the time with reading, Facebook, and chatting.  To give a better idea of the, um, treasured Bethel airport, picture a little building with an area no larger than ¾ of a basketball court, one coffee pot, countless cell phones going off, and one blaring TV that ran only reruns of Law & Order: Criminal Intent.  Pizza was ordered in by some passengers, as the only food source was a standard vending machine. After several games of Sudoku and lessons in “Mac tricks” from the new math teacher, I was so thankful when the K-2 teachers from my village busted out SkipBo and Uno. One quickly realizes how we depend on technology to entertain us and food to be easily accessible when they are scant.  The last two flights finally took for Marshall, and the scenery flying in was amazing!  I saw a couple moose and a black bear.  

      Finally arriving in Marshall, I had mixed feelings.  First off, the "airport" in Marshall is really just a cleared landing for the plane.  A few pick-up trucks met us and we bounced along the mud roads to the village.  All of a sudden the daunting job to which I had committed became crystal clear.  I thought, do they really trust me to teach these kids?  How did I get here?  What the heck am I doing?  But my longer term fears subsided as I encountered a more immediate one.

     

      Mud.  Everywhere. 

      So, muck boots are an absolute necessity for walking around, and a returning teacher handed over a pair of hers willingly (Of course, I thought I could get by without them for a few days...nope).  After finally getting fed by our wonderful principal, seeing the brand-spankin’ new school, and getting a bit settled into our houses, I’m feeling excited for the year.  We met some giddily excited students and saw our classrooms, breathed the pristine air, and I knew that somehow, this is where I am supposed to be for now.  Wish me luck!

      Oh, and one last thing---please feel free to ask questions or make suggestions as to what you’d like to know.  Most of you have my email :).