We've lost about an hour of sunlight since we've arrived.

The sun, itself, just the sun alone is pretty amazing.

The little, tiny bit that peaks up over the horizon in the south. For the last half of the week, the Norton Sound, water as far as the eye can see spreads out to the south, and these villages all rest right on the edge of the Sound.

Of course, they do, it is how they survive. One of us commented as we flew into Unalakleet the first day, "And why here? Why after we flew over hundreds of miles of mountains with not a sign of life underneath us, why a did a village settle here?"

"Two rivers meet here at it is on the edge of the sound." Craig said expertly. Of course. Fish, caribou, berries, aquatic mammals (yes, whales and walruses) all converge here.

And when I said earlier that the sun rises up over the water, what I meant was the ice. In Unalakleet (Look it up on google maps. Its there.) the sound looked frozen, but there were just chunks of ice floating together, and as we went village by village it became more and more frozen, until out here in Nome it was frozen as far as the eye could see.

Until this morning when a North wind came up and blew a bunch of the ice out into the Berring Sea. So this morning, you can see open water on the horizon.

(Anyway, I'm not able to assimilate my tangents as well on the fly here... as you can clearly see. Back to the sun).

The sun rises in the south and then hovers for a bit and then sets in the south. I think often of Wes because of his work with film and production. And how in the lower 48 if you want to get a sunset shot you have a VERY short window of opportunity. You have to be ready and then bam! you only get one or two shots. Hurry! Hurry!

But here... you can... well, literally take all day... so to speak. It is just one big long sunrise that turns into a sunset.

The tiniest bit of light starts to peek up over the horizon at maybe 10 am here in Nome. Then the full sun by maybe 11 or 12? Then the sun is setting by 4 ish? I'm sure there is a web page that would tell you exactly. Or an elder.

But to put some context into it. It was completely dark when we walked to church this morning at 9:45. Then we watched the sun set as we finished up lunch at 3:30 that afternoon.

The transition from Appleton to Anchorage to Unalakleet was not difficult for me. Three time zones. About 3000 miles northwest. Then another 400 miles northwest. That three day period was not tough for me. I think it was because when you travel like that you just -- or I just -- expect things to be crazy. but then from village to village. The flights were only 15 minutes or so. Probably less actual flying time. But we kept going WEST with no time zone change. And we are so far north that we are losing about 5 minutes of sunlight per day at this point.

So it SEEMED like things should stay the same. But the sun kept changing and changing. It would rise later and set later because we were going west. And it would rise later and set earlier because of the time of year. Is anyone else getting motion sick?

Phew. It makes me feel better about going home where it used to be so hard for me that the sun would be fully set by five.

Pictures and Comments.

First, it has been brought to my attention from more than one individual that commenting on my blog has not really been working. Hm. I'll get out my set of screwdrivers and extra light bulbs and see if I can figure out what is going on. Sorry about that!

Second,

Here are some pics....



This is Unalakleet. Our first bush village. This was a great place to begin.










The plane in the dark late morning.











The sled that would be pulled behind a snow machine. A typical way we would ferry we things from the plane to the school and church.











Some scenery from Koyak.



We happened to bring four Apple laptops with us on our journey.




















Me in the parka that Donna Erickson loaned to me while I was up here. She and her husband decided the coat that I brought wasn't warm enough. Donna (and so many women) make these parkas for thier families. It is so beautiful and warm! Thank you, Donna!













Bob speaking at the Koyak school assembly.















Nica (at about 11am, notice the darkness outside) with her much appreciated latte from Coal Creek Coffee in Koyak.



















This is our team. From left to right: Jessica, Mark, Jenica, Bob, Craig, and Megan. Our two pilots from MARC are Greg and Bob. They are not pictured here, but I'll have to get one of them up sometime before its all said and done.

So, that is all for now.

I'll try to put up more pictures and stories. A lot of things are happening. But as you can imagine, there is a lot of sensitive information. We have been so blessed by being up here. This is a wonderful "people group." And wonderful specific people too!!

And I miss Charlotte.

And I can tell I'm very tired. I'm sorry this is so incoherent.
Ok. That's all for now.

I'm in an Alaskan bush village. Surfing wirelessly.

I have a few minutes here, so I thought I'd shoot you some sound bytes…

The school here in Koyuk has an incredible building, and they, like two out of the last three schools we have been at have wireless internet access. Not fast enough to video chat back home. But it is still respectable broadband quality.

It is very, very difficult to write intelligently about everything I see and hear. There is so much and I feel like I’m right in the middle of it, without any perspective. I've been sitting here now for about ten minutes just staring at the screen really trying to figure out how to put it all into words.

I am completely overwhelmed with the beauty of the land and the people.

The mountains are amazing. The hills. The plains. The rivers. The Norton sound. The trees. I’ll upload pics at some point. It is so amazing to fly everywhere too. What a perspective.

As we were flying out the first day, Megan said something like, "One of the reasons I love the bush is that each village is just like a big family." I definitely get that feeling, just from the short while we are at each village. People are incredibly welcoming to us. Every place that we go to I feel that we have been blessed more than we could have possibly blessed them: the welcome, the food, the laughter, the wisdom, the encouragement, the fellowship.

But here, like everywhere else in the world, there is a lot of pain. We have talked to a lot of people that have dealt with suicide, and many other painful things, very first hand. I pray that we can be a source of joy and of encouragement while we are here, and I especially pray for the friends and families that are here, and the ministries that support these people on a more permanent basis (or more often, I mean, because Bob’s ministry here has been ongoing, but still only annually).

Bob is really a great speaker and has a lot of good things to say. Everyone deserves respect. No matter what people do to you, you haven't lost your value. Have courage for the little ones that are watching you. We are created for love, and God is love.


I think that when Bob speaks, it hits home with people because Bob has been there. He is no stranger to real pain, but he has a real joy that he lives out. And he really, really loves people.

The verse I've been thinking about lately is, "Love sincerely. Hate what is evil. Cling to what is good." - Romans 12:Something.

I keep getting distracted by things here... I should go and post this before we leave. Our two pilots are deciding right now if we can fly out of here. It is a daily question. The weather dictates a lot out here.

One more note. I had a latte this morning from Coal Creek Coffee. Myra, who started this little coffee "shed," has to bring the water in from a near by source in a big fifty gallon bucket or something, because the water on tap in this village is so hard here, it would just ruin her espresso machine.

During the school year she is only open from 7:30-8:30 am because she is a teacher and she home schools two kids. She says most of her customers are teachers and she pretty much knows what they want. They have a tab. Her ten-year old sister delivers the latte’s to the classroom. I guess the kitchen staff will usually get two per morning. Myra says, “I guess I need to get bigger glasses.”

I hear that the shed is on “skis” so that when the Iditarod comes through here she can move it to closer to the course and sell coffees during the race.

We trekked up the hill from the school where we stayed the night to the little shed that just has one chair by the stove, and picked up some lattes this morning. What a blessing for my city-girl heart. It was really good.

Sure, the church we did our rally at had a honey bucket, but the potluck food was amazing (duck, caribou, frozen wild berries, homemade bread) and now lattes and wireless internet this morning.

What a world.
Nica.

Delays.

Well,

It is 8am Alaska time. I'm awake. We're staying at the condo of a friend of the ministry, Arctic Barnabas. They are the ones who are coordinating this trip in the Alaska bush. Specifically Craig is the one who is coordinating it. He works for Arctic Barnabas. Arctic Barnabas is a ministry based about 90 miles south of here in Kenai (90 miles as the crow flies, but 140 miles if you want to drive it on roads). They support the pastors that are in the Bush. This trip fits into what they do because it builds great goodwill in the community, and they coordinate these shows with the pastor in the village and the pastor gets the benefit of this goodwill. They need "all the goodwill they can get, often." I don't remember the percentages, exactly, but the villages are mostly native and the pastors are mostly white.

They are treated perfectly well, I guess, but typically it takes longer to become A PART of the community. I guess there was a pastor once who died in the village, and he was elevated to sainthood among the people there. You can live us, fine, was the sentiment, but until you are willing to die with us, you aren't one of us. Which, actually, seems reasonable to me. So Arctic Barnabas supports these pastors in any way they can.

He is going to be going on this trip with us. So are two girls from the Covenant denomination. I think they received a grant, which is partially funding this trip, the chartered plane, etc. Jessica and.… I'll have to update her name later.

We were supposed to meet them this morning when we flew out at 9am to go to Unalakeet for the first show, but both Bob's and my dad's flights were delayed. My dad got in this morning at 2:30am finally, but Bob is supposed to arrive at 12:50 this afternoon.

So, it looks like we'll have to cancel one of the day’s events. We'll push Monday to Tuesday, and then probably cancel Tuesday's village. This was an INCREDIBLY hard decision for Craig who has been coordinating this whole thing. Which village do we NOT go to? But you can't do five events in four days.

Craig said he has been really trying to nail down the details for this week. Places, times, meals, etc. But he cannot seem to do it. Things keep changing and some of the things are just hard to nail down for sure, I guess. The upside of this is that when they went to a few villages two years ago (I think I have the time right?) the villages were VERY understanding if weather changed there plans, or if they were late, or if they had to cancel, or if they showed up and they weren't expecting them.

One of the specific things that changed is that Craig was told, "there is no way that Golovin is going to state." But it turns out that Golovin's highschool volleyball team IS going to state. Way to go Golovin! But THAT means that out of the 20 or so kids that go to the secondary school there, that 14 of them will for sure be gone because they are on the volleyball team. So that may make it difficult to do an assembly there. But, who knows, maybe if 14 kids are on the volleyball team, and a few more fine a way to tag along, and here are only a couple of kids left. Maybe those kids REALLY need to hear Bob's message.

Anyway, so if you could pray about scheduling, and that Bob actually does get here today, that there are no more delays.

I'll post what USED to be our schedule, and make notes to it.

Last night Craig and I had dinner with Clara and Scott two friends of Bob from the last time he was up here. It was really wonderful. They are great people and helped me get a good sense of "what a white girl should know going into the villages."

Of course we talked about how we may get Gusek food when we get up there (see Glossary of Terms below) and we may get native food. If we DO get native food, it would be considered a special treat. And whatever you do, do not snub your nose at it, as this would be highly insulting. Which, really again, is just common sense. This is true of so many cultures. I think that is true even in white America, but we're just so willing to be rude to our mother's, or someone else's poor mother that we say, "Oh, ew, no. yuck."

Granted, steamed spinach seems somewhat mild compared to muktuk or white fish and seal oil, or... stink fish? Is that what it is called? It is a dish that, so I hear, even people who LOVE IT and smack their lips at the idea of it, still can't stand the smell of it.

Scott loves most of the native dishes. He goes back for seconds. It was really fun to hear him talk about the food. I'm actually ecstatic that we may eat some native food. I'd be disappointed otherwise. I love to eat local food.

We also talked about which villages were Honey Bucket Villages and how, don't worry, the schools all have running water.

So far I've met two pilots (ok, one is a former pilot, but he WAS one, and he will be again once has some extra time on his hands), two commercial fishermen (ok, one was a woman), and three people with freezer's full of salmon they caught themselves. And I've only met three people so far.

Granted, this is slightly above the average for Alaska but hunting (or even just owning a gun), fishing, and flying these are all very common activities here.


8:45 am. The sun is nowhere near rising. When I arrived yesterday at 3:45 pm, it was twilight.

This is getting to be more and more random as I keep remembering details to include.... I should run. I may post more before we leave our internet today. I hope to be able to keep posting, since the schools should all have internet access.


Glossary of Terms:

Alaskan bush/ the bush: Anything that doesn't have roads to it. There may be roads between one small village and another. People may use snow machines in the winter to go to a closer village. Sometimes people travel via the waterways in the summer. But primarily you fly in and out, or you don't go anywhere.

A gusek: The native word for a white man.

muktuk: Whale blubber.

honey bucket: a five-gallon bucket with a garbage bag inside and toilet seat on the top.

honey bucket village: Villages without running water.

Last minute details.

I just received this email:

"There may be times when you will have to ride in the back of a pick up
truck from the airport to the school. Could be up to 1 mile away. Make
sure you wear very warm outerwear. The forecast is predicted to be
around 0 degrees at night."

Brrrr.

How it came to be.

This last summer sometime (or in the spring maybe?) Bob Lenz talked to my Dad about the possibility of the Fitz Family joining him on his trip to Alaska this coming December.

Bob speaks at public school assemblies and usually travels with some sort of entertainment (a band, a comedy act, an illusionist, a juggling family) that performs before him during the assembly and then acts as part of the draw to for people to return to the evening program. But as talented as all of the groups that travel with Bob are, we all know that it is not just the entertainment that brings them back. Bob's speaking captures their attention and the truth he speaks about resonates in their hearts.

Immediately upon being asked I said, "Yes. Yes, absolutely. Yes."

My parents spoke with Bob this summer. Bob was trying to lay it on the line how it was not going to be a picnic. He had some example that he told my dad who relayed it to me. I think it may have had something to do with outhouses... I don't know. I can't remember what it was, but whatever it was, I was not concerned. I gave birth to a human being for crying out loud. I can deal with an outhouse.

I was really more worried about freezing to death. Not "freezing" in the, "Wes-why-can't-we-turn-up-the-heat--to-seventy-its-‘freezing’-in-here.” But... literally freezing.

I've endured some cold winters in the Upper Midwest. I’ve spent a few Christmases in Alberta, but we were always in a city. If you didn't have the right mittens on you could just complain about it in the car until the heater kicked in. But you wouldn't lose a finger. You could just pop into the Macy’s. Or the Target. Or the Chinese Buffet. You wouldn’t have to split open your Tonton and sleep inside of it just to survive until the search party finds you. Blech.

Most of the places we are going, I don't think, are that much different than here. Except when we'll be taking small planes into each of the little villages.

The only other Alaska stories I've heard from Bob involve not being able to land at some of the villages because of the snowstorms... That is what I'm worried about.

But that is completely ridiculous. Right?

Oh, I just remembered the story Bob told my dad! It wasn’t about an outhouse at all! As they were flying the small chartered plane into one of the villages they had to circle and circle and circle the village to get their approach just right. One of the people on the plane threw up. Everyone could hear it and smell it, so the rest of them nearly threw up as well.

Sure. That's disgusting. That is no reason not to go.

So, my dad and I discussed our show routines over Thanksgiving, and I've been practicing in the living room with Charlotte. I'm borrowing my brother's really good digital camera. I'm packing all of my recently purchased long underwear and my long-ago purchased big furry hat. And I'm ready, I guess.

I'm incredibly excited. I'm really excited to see Alaska. And I'm really excited to see Alaskans. And I'm really excited to juggle.

I know part of the reason that I'm the only Fitz kid going on the trip is that I'm the only girl. It makes me think about what Jilly says about the ComedySportz goal that at least one of the captains in each show be a woman. (Beware I'm about to paraphrase Jill from my memory) "No. It doesn't make me mad. Because sometimes we go to these little tiny towns and there is an eight-year old girl just staring up at me with big eyes, and she is thinking, 'you're showing me that I can do something with me life.'" Well. Jill says it better. If you're out there, Jill, feel free to correct my poor memory.

So, all of that to say, that I take very seriously the opportunity to do this. And I'm praying about it nearly constantly. Though I do not know what lies ahead I pray that we can bring joy and hope. Oh, yeah, and also that I don't drop when I'm juggling four clubs.

Welcome.

I will be going to northern Alsaska from December 2nd until December 11th, 2007.

I will write about it, before, during, and after.

But for now, I just wanted to post something so you know you found the right spot.

Thanks for stopping by.
Nica.