Produce & Popcorn Cakes - Special Treats!

Hola!

It's Tuesday. I had a pretty good day today, and we leave tomorrow for a district-wide inservice in another village, so it's a short week. It will be good to get out for a couple days and see some friends from other villages. I'm only worried that the good behavior I've seen this week will be forgotten over the four-day weekend. We shall see how it turns out!

This may sound silly, but I've been wanting to post about the subject of fresh produce. You see, it is something we do not take for granted here. The vegetables sold at the co-op only last a couple days (both at the store and on the counter) and they are fairly expensive. They will do in a pinch, but both variety and freshness are usually lacking.

Luckily, there is an organic farm in Bethel, and they will send a box of random vegetables for a fair price. We do not choose what they send; whatever is in season is what we get, which is kinda cool- it adds some mystery and anticipation to the whole ordeal. The last time we got one of these boxes, there was a special announcement over the intercom system at the end of the day: "Teachers, there is a box from Bethel. I repeat, a box from Bethel." This odd message was just cryptic enough to get me out of my classroom for a much-needed break.

When I got to the principal's office, where the highly anticipated box was sitting, untouched, there were about three other teachers in there. We waited for two more. It was almost ceremonious. We did not want to ruin the moment for anyone. As 4th-5th Teacher opened the box she'd ordered, Math Teacher gasped. He prodded at the lettuce that spilled out of the top as though he had never seen it before. My own eyes were nearly as big as saucers. I think my jaw even dropped a little. It was like we were looking at a newly discovered species. Or gold. (Take your pick.) We all looked at each other, thinking, "Is it real? Can I really have some of that? What should we do with it?" All of a sudden, the day was forgotten and our energy renewed by the thought of....a SALAD! I wish I had a picture of all of us crowding around the precious box, gazing in wonderment at its contents.

A rare salad before dinner. This was actually brought by our
mentor teacher, and we ate every last bit.

In addition to about three types of lettuce, the box contained kohlrabi, parsnips, potatoes, and beets. I'd never had kohlrabi or fresh parsnips before, but it was all good. Absolutely no complaints. We divided up the produce and went on our way. I never thought that getting a box of vegetables could make my day, but stranger things have surely happened.

OK, enough about veggies. For those of you who have been fortunate enough to enjoy my Grandma Ruby's popcorn cake, I hope this next section makes you proud. I've been meaning to master the art of crafting these delectable cakes, and I think I'm on my way. I hit a couple snafus, as evidenced below by the fact that the air popper cover blew off, throwing popcorn everywhere. You can laugh. I did. After cleaning up this mess, I set about making the caramel.

To make this addicting concoction, real cream is required, which is not available here. My mentor teacher brought some to me just for this purpose. I got to work, confident that I would remember exactly how to make the caramel from the times I had helped Grandma. 

No dice. As it boiled, I continued reading the directions: "Boil until soft ball stage." Huh?

I called Grandma in a panic because I had no clue how "boil[ing] until soft ball stage" would appear, nor do I have a fancy shmancy candy thermometer. Of course, it didn't occur to me to call her before I started boiling the stuff, so thank goodness she was home and answered the phone. Laughing, she talked me through it, and I'm sure she'd approve of how it tasted. Turns out it's not so hard to recognize, but I did call her just in time; "soft ball stage" doesn't take too long to reach. I also sustained a nasty burn on my forearm in the process, but it was worth it. I was due for another accidental self-inflicted scar, anyway. 

Here's the proof! So tasty. Didn't last long, and made another
for the last teacher potluck. 

Overall, it was a success. So, that's it for today! Thanks for all your encouragement and emails.  Keep 'em coming!

Week 5 Update

Hello all!

Well, week 5 is done, thank goodness. Next week there is a teacher inservice in another village, so we will teach three days and then leave for that in Mountain Village. It will be nice to see some of my friends from the Anchorage orientation for a couple days, plus we make it back here in time to have the weekend to ourselves. I can't really complain about that arrangement!

Folks, it had to happen. This week was rough, student-wise. It seemed that whatever I said or asked, certain students did the opposite. My last class of the day is the toughest one to engage. On Tuesday, only two students were working; the rest of them either directed their farts straight at me, laid on the floor to nap, or hung out of the windows, spitting or throwing stuff onto the playground. There is absolutely no punishment or reward that seems to get to them; in fact, some ask to go to the principal's office. Only a few demonstrate internal motivation. And why should they? Most plan on staying here, where minimal reading and math are necessary to survive. Then I remind myself that these kids do not have the support I had growing up, nor do they know much about life outside of this village. Some still test me, trying to find out if I will leave after a year or if I will still pay attention to them despite their pushing.

I wasn't alone; Math and First Grade Teacher also had rough days this week, the latter coming to tears over her kids' behavior. First and second-year teachers get mentors to help us navigate the world of teaching, especially teaching here in bush Alaska. My mentor teacher was visiting this week, and of course the class that gives me the most grief acted nearly like angels while she was here, or as close to angels as I ever expect to see. She is a great person to vent to and helped me to see that I was making good decisions even though I felt absolutely powerless at certain times.

I will keep trying because it is all I can do. A bonus is that I find myself saying sentences like, "Thank you so much for tooting in the hallway!  That was so considerate of you!" and genuinely meaning it, or, "You know that if you put your hands in your armpits that they will stink. So, don't complain about it!"  After these things come out of my mouth, I take a moment, turn it over in my head, and I have to smile, because in what other profession would I get to say things like that?

Not every day is like that. There are some really awesome bright spots. For example, I have one student who has a scholarship to University of Alaska-Anchorage, and his eyes absolutely lit up when I offered to provide him with his own work and assignments in biology, as he is nearly a year ahead of his peers. He coolly replied,"Sure, that'd be OK..." when I gave him this option.  I could tell he was excited and proud to have this chance to work on his own, but he tried not to show it; pride is not held in high regard here. Another student has already started flight school; another told me in secret that she wants to be a teacher someday; another, a physician's assistant. It is for these kids that I will continue to show up each day, prepared (though that is a lofty goal), and try to provide them with a decent learning environment despite the chaos that goes on around them daily. As for the others, if I can get a few to follow the example set by the goal-oriented students, then I will consider that to be some sort of success.

When I am done for the day, I always get one last reminder that at least a couple of students have accepted me. Below is a picture of my front door. I now live where Mary, who taught here 12 years, used to live. It made my day to see the addition that was made, and still makes me smile when I come home each night. It's small, I know, but the boys who made the change owned up to it, and they continue to work hard for me, so I'll take it.

The above picture was taken from my classroom, and gave me a little bit of repose during my rough week. Sort of heavenly, no? The scenery and views continue to be spectacular, and I might dedicate a post just to that subject.

Thanks for reading!

Camping with Middle Schoolers: A Lesson in Humility

It's been a crazy week and a half. I'm not really even sure what I taught this week, what my bed looks like, or what day it is. But I'm still breathing and happy, so I'm ahead of the curve, right?

The craziness started with a camping trip for the middle schoolers. I volunteered to chaperone the trip because I thought it might be a good way to get to know the students as they truly are outside the classroom, and also to afford them the same opportunity to learn about me in a different setting. I borrowed almost all gear that I took on the trip, and was grateful for each and every thing I had with me. Math Teacher found out he was going with us the morning that we left, so that made for some creative re-scheduling of our high school department. The trip was a bit delayed due to weather, but everything worked out fine. It was really a great time, filled with rain, canoeing, boiling our own drinking water, and regenerating SPAM - more on that later.

We left for the trip in rainy weather, but luckily it did not last long. We got to the camping site, and the kids were great - they grabbed their stuff and immediately began to set up their own tents.  They then helped me stake out a good spot for my own. The chaperones set up a shelter to block the wind and provide a safe place for the fireplace. Once that was done, the kids took to the canoes and did their own things - some went on hikes, others sat around the fire with me.

Math Teacher designated himself as the cook, which turned out to be a bit of a challenge at times. Apparently, a whole tub of food was left at the school, so we had to get creative with hot dogs, pre-made omelets, Pilot Boy crackers, some SPAM a student brought, Smucker's Uncrustables sandwiches, and a can of chili. Also, our drinking water never made it to the campsite, so we ended up boiling river water for our hot cocoa and just to drink. It worked out well, actually. No one went hungry.

One student cooked his can of SPAM and offered it to several people around the fire; he stored the rest with the school food. Over the course of that night and the next morning, that single can proceeded to pop up everywhere, seemingly having regenerated each time. Math Teacher and I started to wonder what exactly was going on with the unnerving can, as we were sure that it had been finished and thrown out at least three times. At one point, Math Teacher was digging through the cooking supplies, and he suddenly, audibly jerked back, as though spooked. The SPAM can had appeared, its contents now refilled. We looked at each other, honestly becoming worried. We are absolutely sure that only one can was ever present. There is still no explanation for this mysterious can, and though it was pretty tasty, I am now hesitant to consume it ever again. I have no pictures of it for you - I didn't want to give that can any sort of extended life - so use your imagination.

Eggs and boiling drinking water.

A couple older high school boys came along to help us novices, and they went hunting after they got us settled. One returned that afternoon with a goose; before long, he had plucked and gutted the bird and built a spit to roast it over the open fire. He cut off the feet, and the kids each took their turn playing with the tendons, getting the foot to flare when pulled. Of course, I took the opportunity to show them that they could do the same with their own forearms. I think I earned a bit of street cred (or, in this case, wilderness cred) when I showed them that cool anatomy trick.

Everywhere I looked, students demonstrated their impressive store of knowledge of nature. In my head, I was thinking, "that's a lesson. That's a standard I could check off. This kid is great at building things out of raw materials. That kid really understands fire." It's too bad we couldn't spend a whole week out there. I truly think they would adjust to school better if we could hold class outside for the first month.

A student-caught bird roasting on a student-made spit.

One might think that being in the wilderness with a bunch of kids, each with his own pocketknife, would be a nerve-wracking thing. However, I was glad to hand over knives and also to allow kids to help chop wood. Some kids whittled just to whittle; others gladly made roasting sticks out of branches nearby. They were sure of themselves and took every proper precaution without any bit of a warning from me, Math Teacher, or any of the other chaperones. They were excited to show me certain plants, animals, and even beaver houses. I was amazed, but not surprised. Some kids who usually try every trick in the book to get out of work in the classroom or to bother their peers were suddenly working together without even being asked. Something about the four walls of a building just sets some of them on edge. Even better, toward the end of the trip, some kids started looking at us with a certain respect and a nod, kinda like, "You're all right. Not all evil." I am positive that this trip will repay me in spades.

Canoeing with some kids. The kind souls didn't
even try to tip me... even though I tried pretty hard
to tip us on my first step into the boat. Luckily, my
partner balanced me out. 

Standing on a beaver house.

I turned in for the night, exhausted but content. The kids, however, stayed up all night, some until 8 am.  I know this because I heard them until 5 am.  Even though I came back from the trip on about two hours of sleep, my brain was absolutely refreshed due to the fresh air and time outside, completely disconnected from the rest of the world. We were told not to bring our cell phones, as there was absolutely no coverage that would enable us to use them. The break from technology was a blessing, and quite welcome.

The good news is that the same number of students we took on the camping trip returned with us the next day intact, as did the chaperones and myself. Regardless of anything else that could have happened, that's a win. Math Teacher and I earned ourselves nicknames from the kids. I am now Miss Coats, because I wore two coats almost the entire time I was there.  (Give me a break: one was for warmth, the outer one was for rain protection.)

Well, this post is a bit rough, but I wanted to get something up before the week starts tomorrow. We are already midway through the first quarter!  I can't believe how quickly it's gone. Here's hoping I make it through the first quarter!

(An Attempt in) Hiking Mount Pilcher

Over Labor Day weekend, a student, an aide, and some fellow teachers and I hiked Mount Pilcher.

Or, more precisely, that was our intent. We almost made it to the foot of the mountain. That counts, right? We gave a gallant effort, but to no avail. We came across the only stop sign in Marshall as we started our hike, and it may have been a warning sign.

Marshall's one stop sign.

Time constraints prevented us from completing the intended hike, but, looking back, I think it was a blessing in disguise. Math Teacher and I walked through the same deep marsh as everyone else prior to trekking across a considerable patch of tundra, but we were the only ones who managed to completely soak our feet at this juncture. And, I might add, we did so within the first 10 minutes of the journey. Luckily, a student of mine came prepared with plastic bags to cover our feet, and the aide had us stuff our muck boots with grass to soak up excess water. It worked quite well!

Math Teacher tries to deal
with a soaking boot.

Seriously, who the hell did we think we were to attempt such a hike with absolutely zero prior training or hiking experience? This thought went through my head several times as I struggled across the tundra. As you may recall, walking on the spongy tundra is no piece of cake.

However, if cake had been waiting at the end, it might have made things slightly more bearable, even though I'm not particularly a cake fan. Unless it's Mom's 'Wacky Cake.' That's a different story.

My newly fashioned sock
made from a plastic bag,
cushioned by some grass.
You're envious, and it's OK.
If you look closely, you can
see my dripping sock dangling
off my backpack.

Anyway, each and every step was a challenge because my feet sank 5 inches minimum with each step. If that weren't enough, pushing out of each step to take the next was made more difficult due to the tendency of either foot to slide in any possible unpredictable direction--left, right, back, forward, down at a sharp angle, or any combination thereof. My poor pathetic knees and elastic ankles were not used to this kind of stress, and it truly was a wake-up call in terms of fitness! Imagine being on a never-ending stairclimber (which I loathe) without the luxury of assured footing. Plus, the longer you stand, the longer you sink, and the further you must climb out to take another step. That's tundra walking. Really, it's great fun! By the time we got through the half-mile of tundra, we needed a break on the flat road to catch our breath, hydrate, and have a snack.

Whoever said the tundra is barren is full of it.  Really, check it out:

We grabbed some berries during our tundra walking; the blueberries are perfectly ripe right now. Those other berries, salmonberries, are far over-ripe. I was not a fan. It tasted like a soggy saltine cracker, with the texture of dried out gelatin. Maybe I can catch them at a better time next year.

To the right is a shot of the tundra grasses. Like I said, pretty cool and very autumn-like, especially when it has only been described as "barren" my entire life. Maybe I'm being picky here, but when I hear barren I am able to conjure up only nothingness and dirt in my head. Anyone else with me on that one?







My student and the aide brought along their guns in case we ran into any bears. (Don't worry Mom, none were spotted.) These two ladies provided much-needed advice along the way, even forcing us to slow down so as not to tire ourselves and to stay together. We walked up the road toward the mountain, talking and stopping to take some practice shots at some geese flying overhead. Overall, it was a great time, and my student captured some pretty great pictures for me, some of which you see on here. Maybe now that we know a bit more of what we are in for, we can make another attempt before the snow flies. If not, there's always the spring!

This is the winding slough that I canoed a couple weeks ago,
taken on our way back down from the foot of the mountain
that we did not reach.

The girls. See, I'm tall here in AK. Who knew? L-R, we have
the Kindergarten, 1st-2nd, and 4th-5th teachers. 

We turned back early because of a planned potluck dinner for the teachers, principal, and counselor, which was to take place at my neighbor's house. Moose stew, salmon, she-fish, and rabbit were on the menu. I served myself a plate and went to return to my spot on the living room floor. Unfortunately, my legs decided that lowering myself was way too much to ask, and they completely gave out as my knees neared a 90 degree angle.  In that split second of falling while holding a plate of food, I realized that I had two choices: 1) go with my first instinct and break my fall with my hands, thus sacrificing my food, or 2) focus any energy left into balancing the plate and accept whatever sort of landing might ensue.

I chose choice number two.  As my friend Mary says, Grace is a nice lady, but I don't know her well.

It worked out, luckily, as I did not wish to wear out my welcome so early by dumping such pungent food all over the carpet. The trade-off was that I completely fell into the TV stand, stopping all conversation and threatening the already shady stability of the front door on said stand. Some people asked if I was OK; others laughed, including myself. Nothing broke, but wow did I feel like a fool - not that this was a new feeling for me. One of the girls who lives at the house burst out laughing, because she saw the whole show and knew exactly how tired I was. Later, when I went back for dessert, I wisely handed it off to someone prior to crawling back into my spot, and Social Studies Teacher asked if I was really OK or not. I realized I truly must look wretched and be moving in an even worse fashion, because he doesn't normally voice concern.

All said and done, it was an awesome day. I spent not one minute on lesson planning or the computer, and completely took advantage of the sunshine and fresh air. I hope there are more days like this to come, complete with snafus and all. I'm not sure how many adventures I will be having once the light decides to leave us, but I am told that Eskimo dancing, dinner parties, and open gyms will be on the list of events. Thanks for reading!

More Berries and a Medicine Man

I will never complain about the price of fresh raspberries again.

Really.

After berry picking with both grade-school kids and some of my own students, I now see the value of simply forking over $5 for slightly more than a handful of raspberries. I have three solid reasons.  First, the time spent picking compared to the amount we took home was pretty lopsided, and the kids found most of the berries you see in that bucket below. We spent about 2 hours picking, and I went home with maybe 3/4 cup of raspberries. You see, I never thought I'd say this, but I am actually too tall for successful raspberry picking, which is reason number two behind my inclination never to complain about the price of berries again.  

Yes, you read that correctly.  I am too tall.  How is that possible, you might ask? 

Turns out that the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th graders are at perfect eye level for spotting the berries, and can tell in a glance whether they are ready to be picked; if they are "juicy" and pull off the stalk easily, they are ready - sort of a no-brainer, yet, of course, dependent upon seeing them.  "I found a JUICY ONE, Miss Susan!!" often rang in my ear prior to some little hand slam-dunking the hidden treasures into my bucket. The raspberries sit just below leaves, which grow about to the height of my waist. The stalks grow about to my own eye level, but the berries do not. I found it adorable that these little kids were so willing to help me even though I'm not their current classroom teacher. Thank goodness for them, though.

As you can see, I am the perfect height to hide, but
not to see what I am doing that well.

This shot is to show you the position
of the berries.  They are much closer to the size
of a raisin, not like the apparently
behemoth-sized berries at the store.

Thirdly, berry picking comes with risks. Not dangerous ones, but uncomfortable ones. While out picking, I brushed up against some stinging nettle, and my hand immediately started itching, eventually swelling a bit too much for comfort.  I showed one of my rowdy 7th grade students, and he said, "You need chaithluck." He grabbed some nearby, took my hand, and rubbed the leaves on the irritated area.  Within about 10 seconds, the stinging was gone. He grabbed a few fresh leaves and continued. Within another 10 seconds, the redness and swelling were nearly gone.  By the time we were done berry picking, the spots where the nettle had poked me were the size of pinpricks.

A bit of clarification: chaithluck is pronounced jai-[throat-clearing sound]-luk. Don't try to say the 'th' in the middle.  Practice it. It took me about a week to get it right. The common name for it is stinkweed. No, it doesn't stink at all.

"Michael the Medicine Man...thank you!" I told him, and he smiled shyly. He's a nice student, but definitely much more in his element outside than inside, where he gets restless.  It was nice to see this other side to him. The next day, another teacher and I met him and his brothers to fish, and he had fashioned us some fishing poles. The kindness of these people is shown to me daily!

Chaithluck.  The lighter
green is the softer side used
to rub onto the skin.

On a related note, later in the week I woke up with a pretty bad sore throat, and my voice was in jeopardy while teaching.  I resorted to using the microphone from the sound system in my room, which the students actually found to be pretty cool. Also, I could simply turn up my own volume if theirs was getting to be too high. :) Anyway, several students told me to boil the chaithluck and drink the juice to soothe my throat. I never got around to doing so, but it is apparently an all-purpose healing remedy up here. It can be used fresh, boiled and made into a poultice or astringent, or smoked over a fire and breathed in as a decongestant. I'm really glad I found this out now! It can even be frozen for future use.




So, that wraps up my second week of teaching up here. We had an excellent week in school, and now have a lovely 3-day weekend to relax. I will be camping next week with the middle schoolers, so stay tuned for the details from that adventure!