The Goings-on

Greetings!

Many thanks to all of you who aided in supplying me with ceaseless stimulation during my brief, yet eventful voyage to the land of my birth. I have been back in Chefornak now for nearly two weeks and have experienced limited and sporadic access to the net, which is why many of you have heard nothing of me. To my concerned allies: you can rest assured that I remain in tact. To my foes: your time hath cometh not! In any event, my intent here with this maniacal ramble is to bring all up to speed with the events that have transpired since re-entry.

I awoke early morning January 5th at an over-priced hotel in Bethel, Alaska prepared to make the final stretch of the journey back to Chefornak. Travel-worn and weary I stepped out of the hotel and in to the world outside. The realization that things were not as I had left them became immediately apparent. Within seconds, I could feel my beautifully groomed facial hair become encased in cylinders of ice, all the while contemplating the burning sensation spanning the length of my face. For the first time, I was coming face-to-face with the harsh realities of a sunless, -25 degree F Alaskan morning.

I elected to fly Yute Air for reasons that are still unclear to me. Boarding a non-insulated craft with no heat defies all logic, reason, and bursts through the limits of sanity, even for those who come prepared. The passengers aboard the frozen plane consisted of myself, Rose (a fellow Chefornakian), a young mother from Kipnuk and her child. My concern was not so much for myself (as I held firm the belief that my silk undies, multiple layers, and down chaqueta would render me invincible) or for Rose (who had also come prepared), but for the young mother who boarded the plane with us. Though we spoke little, I managed to convince myself that she ran with a crowd that valued style over safety, at all costs. This fact, I was sure, was the only possible explanation for opting to sport a pair of jeans and a hip, thin, leather jacket at a time when an 800-fill down jumpsuit could be considered "iffy". Fortunately for her, the pilot had brought along a wool blanket with which she used to cover herself and her infant child. As my entire body began to freeze to the point where any motion brought forth an unfamiliar tingling (almost as if icicles were coursing through the veins) I became aware that the wool blanket this young woman was sporting had served to protect her and her child from imminent disaster.

As we approached her hometown, concern began to grow as to how this woman would successfully transport herself and her child home, given that the pilot lacked the ability to grasp the notion that the blanket could indeed part from the plane for the few minutes that would allow this woman to get her child home safely. Begging and pleading ensued, but no amount of emotional outburst could crack the stoic. The young mother was irate.

Luck was on her side though. As we touched down in Kipnuk, a lone fellow with his snow-machine was willing to take the pair the rest of the length of the journey. Tragedy had been avoided, the concept of stupidity arose, but Rose and I were happy to know that we were only a few short miles away from the warmth that would lead us back to the state of homeostasis that our shivering bodies failed to do.

The plane landed in Chefornak, I grabbed my bags, and then proceeded to sprint back to the sanctuary of warmth that is my home, entertaining solely the thought of how fantastic a hot shower would be at this disconerting moment. I burst through the door, tore off my gear, and took a step on to cold, damp carpet. My furniture was in disarray. What the ......? Had some wild New Year's Eve party taken place here? Why was the ground wet? Where did that steam cleaner come from? What is that smell? "No time for this now", I stated to myself, "I must first thaw out".

I then stepped in to the restroom and the magnitude of the situation became more clear. The shower knob was gone and in its place was only a large metal tube. The bath-tub was filled with sediment-ladened water that seemed hold no regard for the laws of gravity. The drain was open, but why wasn't the water going down? This disturbed me. I soon found out that the -25 degree days had persisted in Chefornak for much of the time that I was gone. Pipes had frozen and burst for other residents as well, electricity had died, heat failed, and some homes were frozen entirely whereby all household items had literally turned to ice.

Since that time the weather has warmed and as a result we have endured two major storms with winds approaching 60mph, accompanied with many feet of snow and limited visibility. We missed two and a half days of school due to weather. Our internet access was knocked out for over a week and has worked only sporadically until now. As a result, we had been cut off from the rest of the world, but in a way it was good. Had our communications been up and running we would have received the news of the earthquake in Eastern Russia and the accompanying warnings of a tsunami that would no doubt have overtaken our quiet little coastal village. Maybe we would have been alarmed or maybe we would be calmed by the reason, after all we have no defense, nor anywhere to go, or anyway to get there.