I am surprisingly and overly anxious about this 10 day trip to Barrow . I never get like this before traveling. I keep fussing over my baggage and its weight (all of 31 lbs, if that), worried about clothing choices (warm enough to withstand 30-35 degrees with high wind), and checking only to double check it all again. Gaaaah. I am finally forcing myself to be satisfied. If seal oil gets on this stuff and the smell never gets out, fine. If I packed too many socks, I’ll deal with it.
I think my problem is just how vastly unknown certain aspects of this trip really are. Sure, I have been telling people all about where I am going, but most of it has been me talking out my ass. Although I have read up on where I am going, asked questions, and talked to past participants, the reality is, I actually know very little about any of this. Hence, my anxiety.
The flight is from Anchorage, to Fairbanks, and straight up across the Brooks Range to Barrow. It’s occurred to me that this is the first time I have ever flown over Alaska during the summer daylight months. The sight of the Brooks mountain range and the intricate squiggles of rivers and waterways cutting through the green valleys below, floored me. Random, isolated shower patches produced double, sometimes, triple rainbows that seemed a mile wide before they faded behind us. I have never seen anything like it.
Approaching Barrow, I’m practically glued to the window. The tundra suddenly became bare as we approached the village, not just of trees, but also of lichens and plant life. It looks like gravel or mud. I wonder if this is from all the four-wheelers and snow machines stripping the ground season after season? As for the village, it looked to be the same size and layout as the pictures I had studied so closely in museums and books at home.
The plane continued its path over the village and out onto the outstretched ocean before it. The fog had lifted off the water below and I could see how the ice break-up on the surface was just beginning to take place. In the 9 p.m. sunlight, the starkness of the ice against the brilliant dark blue of the water contrasted blindingly with the muddy shoreline of Barrow and its warehouse-like structures.
As the plane continued it’s decent, I caught sight of small boats weaving carefully between the break-up in sear for fish or seal – I assume, anyway. Gas this far north is priced at nearly $8 dollars a gallon, so I doubt that the boat and its owners are simply out tooling around.
After landing, I disembarked the small plane and was immediately met with the north wind’s chill as I walked across the tiny runway to the terminal. A warmer welcome was given with an informal announcement of the flight's arrival on the loudspeaker and the whistles of those packed in with us (mostly from the mouths of an entire Florida high school football team that had made up the majority of the plane’s passengers). The luggage pickup area was so small that I, among others, had to wait outside. Bags and coolers were taken from the plane’s carts and literally thrown through a black curtain onto a platform or the floor. The platform was so tiny that packages and the bags had to be stacked on top of one another and placed in a corner, making it even more cramped and chaotic. Yet, somehow there was enough order that I was able to get my stuff pretty quickly.
I was just glad I had carried my heavy Marmot coat with me onto the plane. While waiting outside, the jacket and its liner made a huge difference in blocking the wind as the fog set back in.
Then again, maybe I am just a pussy because while I was zipping myself up to my chin, there were kids running around and playing in the road outside the building several feet from me wearing shorts and flip-flops. Eh.
Checked into the Ilisagvik College dorms for the night, I have found that sleep is tugging at me urgently. It is still bright and sunny outside, despite it being nearly 11 p.m. Being that I am used to the Alaska summer daylight, this won’t stop me from rolling into deep and solid slumber once I hit the sheets. I can’t say it will come as easily to my roommate who is from Massachusetts.
My understanding of tomorrow is that we will meet with everyone involved on the trip, maybe tour the area, pack up and head down the coast to set up camp. That remains to be seen. It is day by day here – sometimes due to the weather and its unpredictable-ness and sometimes just the people. This is what I am told anyway…
Here is a view of Barrow from my dorm window...At 11:07 p.m.
_____________________________________________________________________________Sunday 7/13/08
I woke up early this morning, excited about getting started. However, I found that waking early here means a lot of time to myself, because no one was up until around 10:30. I welcomed breakfast at 11:30 and welcomed its strong black coffee even more. I met all the participants last night before crashing, and the names I couldn’t quite remember at 10:30, stuck with me better after the coffee.
The group loaded into the vans shortly after and drove through the town to someone name Jana’s house to meet with her and several others. Jana is one of the instructors and we would be arriving at her place just in time to witness an afternoon seal butchering.
As I walked into the yard, I was greeted with the sight of women busily working and laughing as they leaned over a table skillfully working their ulus (a traditional Native Alaskan cutting tool - much like a knife) through seal blubber.
To my right was a bowl with a large bloodstained sealskin soaking in water. To my left, a tarp with hearts, liver, and other dark organs lying on it. Out in the yard far ahead of me was a makeshift wooden rack that held strips of the seal meat alongside what appeared to be what I can only guess to be a caribou ribcage and other parts.
Fannie, the lead instructor, along with several of the other participants, greeted the butchers and quickly snatched up the raw blubber strips and popped them into their mouths, all the while laughing and conversing.
The butchers then turned and warmly welcomed the rest of us in inviting us to the leftover blubber and a bowl of freshly chopped raw seal intestine.
If you click on the picture above, you can get a closer look at the intestines in the bowl.
In fact, just so you know, any picture on here will enlarge this way.
In fact, just so you know, any picture on here will enlarge this way.
I watched as they demonstrated placing the intestine onto the wide surface of the pilot bread crackers. As others began to step forward to try it, I felt myself doing the same. The way people were consuming and grabbing at it, one would think it was candy.
I gingerly picked up a cracker and carefully scooped some of the slippery, strong smelling food, trying not to show any clumsy hesitation and popped it into my mouth.
I chewed. And chewed…and chewed some more. It felt like it was expanding in my mouth, but perhaps that was just the cracker mixing in. The more I chewed, the more it sank in what was sitting on my tongue. Maybe walking away would help. I felt my eyes rolling upward, trying to find anything else to focus on besides what was in my mouth. Finally, I realized I was going to have to MAKE myself swallow. As I swallowed, I found myself comparing it to the first time I ever ate raw sushi. I didn’t even recall the flavor, only that the focus on chewing kept me from actually tasting it. I grabbed another cracker and walked back to the butchering table where they had finishing putting away the rest of the blubber and began cleaning up.
As I stood there, a bowl of freshly boiled and salted seal meat was brought from the house. I found that I much preferred the taste and texture of this to the chopped oily intestines. I admit I had been a bit hesitant to eat the intestines, but I think that was mostly due to the fact that it was raw. Boiled appealed to me, or any “preparation” for that matter. Regardless, I know this is all part of the experience, and I am willing to try anything. Actually, I have to say that I am pretty proud of myself, coming from nearly 15 years of not eating meat. I figure if I can stomach raw seal intestine, I can stomach about anything.
Helping myself to a little more boiled seal, I watched as the soaking skins were shaken out and being carted away. Ana, one of the Native participants, informed me that the sealskins would be used for the bottom of a whaling boat. The process involved soaking and washing the skins in the ocean, soaking them in seal oil, and then storing them underground for 5-6 months. After that, the skins would be pulled back out and the fur would fall right out, making the skin suitable to begin stretching and treating for the boats. It would take a good number of these for just one 20-foot boat. It would take most the year to complete the boat, but it would be finished by the beginning of whaling season in April.
Here are the flippers, which apparently also have uses. In the past, hunters would take the flippers and use the claws to scratch the ice. This would trick a hunted seal into thinking the hunter was just another seal.
Leaving, there were two stops that needed to be made, the store and Fannie's office. Several items needed to be picked up before we could head out to camp tomorrow. As I was navigating through the aisles of the one grocery store in town, I stopped dead in my tracks once I hit the orange juice section. Lord, and I thought orange juice in Anchorage was expensive.
Fannie’s office was across the street from the store and there, she took care of the formalities of the paperwork and course requirements. With that out of the way, and the warmth of the office leading me to gratefully remove my coat and gloves, she gave the group a crash course in Inupiaq language basics and phrases. It is a hard language to look at first, but upon going over the pronunciations of syllables and vowel combinations, I found that most words are pronounced exactly as they look. I hope that in trying to retain and use the little bit I learned today, that I’ll be able to build on that.
It might be worth mentioning that Native villages in Alaska aren’t really all that welcoming to new people, especially white ones. History has as much to do with this as modern day issues, such as subsistence hunting and Alaska’s land/water/resource use. Sure, one can come in and walk around, tour and such, but to actually learn about the culture first hand, taught, or taken in, one would have to be invited. This invitation can come in the form of a program, a family member, or a friend, but it has to be an invitation nonetheless. Truly, when I say that I feel blessed to have this invitation extended to me to learn about Barrow and the Inupiaq ways, I really mean it.
I want to make the most of this adventure, no matter how many mental boundaries, hesitations, or habits I have to break through. I want to take part and in and absorb everything. This is my one shot at this, and I want it to be good.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Monday 7/14/08
This morning was grey and cold. Most the morning was spent packing up and loading the boats to head on down the coast. The ice was in and hanging close to the shore.
Standing in the water, the sensation was sharp and cold. My feet began to go numb within the first few minutes. I smiled like a ham for the sake of the picture anyway.
The boat would have to be careful in navigating through the sharp chunks and the thick mist. The group totaled to 21 people so we were forced to split into two groups. Once loaded up, the first group headed out to sea. My group would have to wait several hours for the boat return, so once again, we returned to the warmth the office.
Warming my hands over hot coffee, I listened as Fannie spoke about growing up, about her brother, stories about the boarding school in Oklahoma she was sent to in her youth, and tales about how subsistence laws had affected her village. One story that stood out in particular was about the infamous Barrow “Duck-in”.
Her brother, Tommy, had been out hunting, unaware that a recent restriction had been placed on duck hunting. While out in the fields, the Department of Fish and Game landed and arrested him on the spot. His weapon and gear were confiscated, his sled left behind, and his dogs released to the wild (fortunately, they found their way back to the village).
Upon returning to the village and having a Native official translate to Tommy the reason for the arrest, word spread around town to what was happening. In response to the arrest, and in anger to what was happening, the village formed in solidarity. The community marched to helicopter, surrounding the Fish and Game warden, each individual with a duck in hand. The warden was told to free Tommy, or he would have to arrest the entire town. The warden, overwhelmed, freed Fannie’s brother and high-tailed out. Tommy never got his gear returned, but he was able to escape the arrest.
The story made me realize how out of touch villages were from the rest of the world in terms of the laws being passed, and how unfair the laws being passed were to those that they actually affected – the total lack of communication or understanding of the Native village ways of life.
Returning to the beach to join the others at camp, the fog was began to lift and the sun beginning to break through in the late afternoon light. This was good according to our guides, Jana’s sons, Nuk and Qaiyaan, because we would reach camp much faster than the first group due to the added visibility. I agreed with this although my first thoughts were that it was good primarily because it would be warmer. The boat, although basic in its small aluminum design, was well equipped with GPS and other technologies.
The sea was calm as we zipped through the ice flow. As we sped along, several seal (natchiq) heads peaked out above the water and quickly re-submerged as we approached. Qaiyaan was in the middle of naming off all the different types of natchiq to us when Nuk sat upright and cried “Caribou (tuttu)!!!!”
The boys gunned the boat onto the shore and leaped out with guns in hand, tearing through the low fog along the shore and up to the tundra. The mist gave way to ghostlike antlers of the herd that was spotted as the boys ran towards them. Several shots rang out and moments later, the boys reappeared through the fog dragging the carcass of the animal by its antlers. Using a good amount of strength, the two hauled the tuttu onto the bow of the boat and tossed it up. The animal bounced once and then remained still the remainder of the trip towards camp.
A bit bouncy, and not an ounce professional, but here is a video clip below.
The boys explained, “Up here, what you want doesn’t wait for you. Whether it is weather or food, when it is time, it is time. When a tuttu, or a natchiq, is spotted, that is the time to hunt. To wait and come back for it later, is foolish and will lead to hunger.”
Approaching camp, we saw the others emerge from the foggy interior and heard a shout. There was excitement in the air from the Natives in the group.
The boys went to work immediately. The animal was pulled from its perch upon the bow and dragged up the beach, knives being pulled out as they went. Simultaneously, the Native women in our group whipped out their ulus and tarps as they followed the boys up the tundra.
As the rest of us unloaded and joined them, the boys were already fast at work in removing the skin from the animal.
I was amazed at how bloodless the whole process seemed to be. I guess I just assumed it would be like in the movies and that blood would just shoot out and fountain over everything, but watching them was like watching a carefully enacted science experiment. The skin just seemed to slide right off. I know the sharpness of their knives had a lot to do with it, but when the boys got to the point where they dropped the nice and literally began punching the skin off the animal, it just "popped" right off the muscle.
I was called away to help set up the tents, which I did as quickly as possible so I could get back to watching the butchering process. When I returned, the women were already elbows deep into slicing up the animal.
Jana was working on the legs removing the tendons from the legs (to eventually use in making sinew thread) while Rachel, Martha, and Julie were busying over removing organs and the meat. Others in our group worked to create a drying rack out of driftwood and rope. Once completed, we began moving and hanging the meat onto the racks to dry. Tents were erected, the kitchen area setup, snow from the coastline was gathered in buckets for drinking water, and a campfire started.
I was impressed with how well everyone worked together. The flow between jobs seemed seamless and everyone just did what needed to be done. The importance of cooperation appeared to be realized, even though many of us were so new at this. No one made any complaints and instead stepped forward to do whatever had to be done
After everything usable had been removed from the tuttu, Pat began trying to scoop up the remains to dump in the refuse pile. In doing this, he split open the stomach and a mixture of bright green half digested food and bile spewed forth and oozed onto the ground. As he began to jump back and curse over it, Qaiyaan jumped past him dipping his hands into it and assuring him, while rushing over to rinse his hands a pool of water nearby, that the goop was useful in getting blood off one’s hands after butchering.
Pat didn’t look too convinced, but went ahead and finished gathering the remains, trying not to get the greenish slop on him…Even if it was a helpful substance. I found it interesting that even the parts that would be “undesirable” would still have good use and mused over the idea of how someone in the past figured that particular equation out. Regardless, there is always something new to be learned, even by those who have done this kind of work before
Dinner consisted of pilot crackers and goose soup. The chunks of goose meat floated in a mixture of rice, macaroni, and oily broth that was reminiscent of chicken soup. It’s been a long time since I have eaten meat, much less meat off a bone, so I must admit that momentarily, I wasn’t sure how to go about it. I made several unsuccessful attempts, and then hoping no one would notice, waited and observed how everyone else was going about it. As I watched all the chewing and gnawing, I decided that yes, it must be like eating a chicken. Isn’t it silly that one might momentarily forget something as easy as eating meat off a bone?
As I finished my meal, I enjoyed listening to the older women talk outside the tent as I helped clean up. I noticed that the sun was finally breaking out from the clouds and the winds had calmed to a pleasant easterly breeze. The ice flow still floated close and watching carefully, I found that seals were still curiously poking their heads above the still waters. In the distance, the sky and the water blended so you couldn’t really make out where one ended and the other began, giving the closing of my evening a dreamlike feel.
____________________________________________________________________________________Tuesday 7/15/08
A beautiful morning! Or, I should say, afternoon since it is well after 1 p.m. I can see blue on the horizon as I indulge in my delicious breakfast of pancakes and Fannie’s whaler’s coffee. The breakfast crew was small being that most were still asleep.
As I ate, I learned that the boys had caught site of a large herd of tuttu further down the coastline from camp and had gotten several more for the week. It sounds like I will have my work cut out for myself later when everyone gets up (no pun intended).
Meanwhile, at least until everyone gets up, Karen, Kathy, and I headed out across the tundra toward a gigantic herd of tuttu spotted in the distance, not for hunting, but just to see how close we could get. We walked and spoke slowly, but it appeared that we were still sensed.
Karen, a PH.D student at studying caribou/tuttu at UAF (aka: she is automatically the expert in what to do on this trek), told us to raise our hands over our heads in a “V” shape as we walked in order to give the impression that we too, were tuttu. I figured, if making a "V" with my arms will work, why not take it one step further?
The animals were still curious and didn’t run; rather, out of wariness they began to shift grazing directions slowly but surely moving away from us. Walking a bit farther, it was decided we would be allowed no closer so we turned back.
Walking back to camp, I took in my surroundings. The sky had gone from a blue strip on the horizon to a full-blown blue stretch across the hillside. This is the first blue sky we have seen since we landed in Barrow last Friday. The richness of the greens, browns, and yellows of the tundra contrasted elegantly against the cobalt color above it.
The tundra isn’t as flat as I had imagined would be. It is actually full of small hills and valleys that the wind whips through, and although treeless, is absolutely teeming with plant life, flowers, and fungus.
Upon reaching camp, someone shouted, “Look! Tuttu!”
Whirling around, we realized as we had walked back, thousands of tuttu had been following us. Stopping about a half mile behind us, they began to graze and change course towards the small lake we camped beside. Even more began to pour over the ridge and join them, leaping into the water and making their way out to the other ridge. There were easily over 1000 of them.
Everyone stood and watched silently in amazement as the gigantic herd disappeared out of sight in the direction of the coastline the boys had hunted on the night before. It was an incredible sight.
Later, once all hands were on deck, four of the seven tuttu hunted the night before, were uncovered from their burial spot under the snow and brought up for butchering.
Karen, Jamie, and I set to work on one of the smaller animals.
It’s amazing how much I learn from just watching others. I don’t even need real instruction, I just watch and watch until I think I can do it and once I am ready, I step in. As I held the skinned legs in the air to steady the animal for the girls, I began to observe the interactions between the various age groups around me. The effect of elders, or just those who are older, on the activity is evident. When the boys first hauled the tuttu over, Nuk was obviously in charge of directing everyone else. But when Jana stepped in, everyone, even Nuk himself, stopped plans of original instruction and listened intently to her new set of instructions.
It makes sense, yes, because she is more knowledgeable in this area, and yes, she was his mother, but it was the fact that all previous plans were willingly put aside and there was a sense of eagerness and learning from the new set of directions. It demonstrated, not only in this situation, but also in others, that the respect for the older folks/elders in this culture comes first in all things, and in that, learning ensues.
It’s almost 3 a.m. I had intended to be asleep earlier, but just as I began to drift off, I heard the sound of the boat returning (apparently the boys had gone out again) and shouts for all hands on deck.
Emerging from the tent, I found Jamie, Nuk, and Qaiyaan had returned with an 8ft. bearded seal (ugruk). It was a beautiful animal indeed.
Since it was so late, it was decided to wait and start working on it tomorrow. Jana directed that a slit needed to be placed in its belly and the intestines pulled out a bit so that the pressure wouldn’t build up inside the animal overnight. The excitement in the air as I headed back to bed was undeniable.
____________________________________________________________________________________
Wednesday 7/16/08
Rain. All. Day.
This is the first day, despite that I am totally bundled up, that I got cold. A trip back to the tent to double up on wool socks and trade out for a warmer pair of gloves, helped immensely. Between this seemingly nonstop rain, the harsh north wind, and the fog – it feels like it's gonna be hard to get started on all the work we have ahead of us today. Regardless, it all has to be done. Thank god for coffee.
The boys have taken the boat back to Barrow to get the large wall tent. The meat is never going to dry at this rate. In this weather, there is no telling how long it will take for them to return. I help take the tuttu ribs and meat from the racks and wrap them in plastic to shield them from the rain. I am told if the blood washes off too much, the meat will lose much of its flavor. Meanwhile, the seal needs to be taken care of.
The winds are unforgiving and make it hard to begin on the seal. Several of us set up a tarp bound to driftwood to act as a barrier from as much of the elements as possible. The women worked quickly, and because it had to get done, and get done fast, they did the majority of the work. The ulus flashed and worked swiftly, and I couldn’t imagine how slick all that must have gotten. Yet, unfazed and with the skill of much practiced motion, the seal became less and less.
As a crew we did what would could. Some busied themselves with the task of cleaning and emptying the contents of the intestines, setting aside the meat, or just bringing hot tea or coffee to the women as they worked.
Every job, no matter if it was holding garbage bags for the blubber, keeping the coffee going, or maintaining the fire, was important. If one job is not done or is half-assed, it sets off a domino effect on other jobs.
The other tent was brought and all hands were called to stop and help set up. The kitchen tent and all its contents had to be moved to the wall tent. It was no simple task, and again, required full cooperation from everyone. Finally, the rain let up, but not until we were nearly done transporting the kitchen site. The covered tuttu was re-hung and joined by the freshly cut seal meat.
Again, I want to mention how impressed I am with the group. All ages are represented ranging from 5 to 60 in our group, and not one person stopped or complained. The group works hard and has good dynamics. I haven’t heard any negativity from anyone.
The only exception is that the boys found that when returning with the tent, they found the rain had melted the snow burial of the last 3 tuttu. As a result, the carcasses were picked clean by the seagulls. There was disappointment from some, but what could be done? No one had stopped to consider how the rain would also affect the storage of the meat surplus. It seemed to raise spirits when one of the gulls, shot by the boys in discovering this, was strung up above the drying meat at the top of the rack, to serve as a warning to the other birds.
Dinner was tuttu stew and boiled tuttu organs/meat. Many grabbed for the organs and heads.
Me, I stuck to the tuttu stew. The stew was rich and tasty and the pilot bread (now one of my favorite camp foods) went alongside it nicely. To drink? Boiling hot Tang. And damn, who would have ever guessed that hot Tang was so good??
After all that rain and dreariness, the sun and skies fully coming into view for the second time the entire trip was a welcomed sight. The boys, Rachel, Susan, and Kathy decided to head out on the calm waters in search for walrus (aiviq). My turn on the boat will be tomorrow, but I wish I could go tonight. I am not holding my breath for this gorgeous weather to hold out.
After dinner was cleaned up, everyone went his or her own ways. Some went to bed while the others hung around the fire. Martha and I decided instead to take off on a long walk across the tundra, away from the camp. As we walked, she talked of her life growing up in Barrow. She spun off onto the topic of the 1977 whaling moratorium and the impact it had on Alaska Natives. The International Whaling Commission (IWC) had tried to restrict the amounts of whales that could be harvested in fear that the animal was nearing extinction without researching the situation for hardcore numbers. Martha told of the anger and pain it caused her people. This screwed with the traditions, holidays, and the overall Inupiaq calendar in terms of the seasonal activities that were required to meet the needs of the community. The community fought back by forming it’s own commission, the Alaska Eskimo Whaling Commission (AEWC) to pit cold hard data and facts against the IWC to prove them wrong and won.
While I had heard of the whaling moratorium, I had never learned the whole story. The issue of subsistence is so important up here. Everything about the land and water, not just the whales, all arctic wildlife, are a core part of life, community, tradition, and survival. It continues to astound me that officials outside of Alaska fail to realize this and continually make decisions with no regard to people who live here. And it isn’t just outside of Alaska either. There is controversy between rural and urban Alaska as well. All it takes is a little research, compassion, and willingness to open your eyes to see the potential and actual effects of these decisions on the land and its inhabitants.
All this weighed heavy in my mind even after the subject had changed. We made our way back to camp in the golden 1 a.m. light. The boat had returned. The hunt was successful! Tomorrow we start on the aiviq! We will work hard and eat well.
As I get ready to shut this journal and stow myself away for the night in my sleeping bag, I’ve got to comment on the utter lack of time sense. Even being used to Alaska’s constant summer light, it is so damn bright up here, even when it is gray. The day never seems any different outside the perceptions of my watch. The sun, the few after midnight-times it appears, stays in the same spot on the horizon ALL the time. On top of that, the entire camp functions on an un-discussed and accepted schedule of getting up at 3 p.m. and crashing out for the night at 3 a.m. I have no complaints being that I get my full amount of sleep. Not to mention that the day always hits its nicest between midnight and 3 a.m.
___________________________________________________________________________________
Thursday 7/17/08
As anticipated, the gray weather and fog has returned.
I am thankful, however, that there is no rain. It’s been explained to me that this is the first time the summer has been so fog-filled. Much of it, along with the ice staying so far out, has a lot to do with effects of global warming. I turned my eyes away from the sky, hoping that maybe some blue will be in store later, and focus at the tasks to be done for the day.
The work on the seal was finished up, and as the group finished cutting the blubber into strips, Pat and I hung the meat to dry.
The meat still surprises in me in texture. It looks to be so slick, but it’s actually quite dry and almost tacky. This makes sense in how, despite the way the meat looks as it is worked on, that the grips on the ulus and the motions stay so smooth and fluid.
Once all the seal was hung, it was time to take care of last part of the intestines process. The intestines, after being squeezed of their contents yesterday (tapeworms and all), had had the outer layer removed for consumption, and the inner layer soaked again. Today, we were going to blow them up with air and hang them to dry. Intestine balloons! Hooray!
Video magic. Click on the next two scenes.
Jana got on one end to hold the length off the ground. Martha held the string near the mouth to tie it off. I stepped up and wrapped the outside over my fingers, took a deep breath, and blew. The intestines blew up quickly and Martha quickly tied it off, leaving the blown up intestinal tube flailing in the wind like much like a grotesque balloon animal waiting to be made.
I was left with a salty taste on my lips (not bad) but the smell of seal intestine oil on my upper lip (gross). It seemed to linger for hours despite my attempts to wipe it off. It didn’t help that I volunteered to repeat this process a second time.
The intestines were hung to dry among the seagull and the nearly black tuttu. Once dried, the intestines will be used to create parkas for the whaling season. Due to it’s superior waterproof and windproof properties it creates an exceptional barrier to the elements and has been traditional garment material for centuries. In the past, I am told; this inner layer of intestine was also used for windows.
It is amazing that every resource was used and nothing was ever wasted. The resourcefulness of those in the past is just incredible.
I have to say, that the meat hanging on the rack, with the intestines whirling around it, and a seagull strung from the top, looked as if it were a bizarre arctic xmas tree.
A chorus of tuttu heads were lined up and appeared to be rejoicing behind it.
I find this strange sight to be terribly amusing and chuckle every time I glanced up at the hillside.
Now that the seal is done, it is time for the walrus. It seems the work is tireless here.
Although it is bigger than the seal, it didn’t take as long being that the boys had left most of the innards out on the ice after capturing him. The blubber and meat were the most sought after. Plus, as big as it was, to leave all that inside would have made it nearly impossible to load onto the small boat.
After the meat and blubber were removed, the penis bone (yes, I said bone) was kept, as were the whiskers from the face. The penis bone is apparently cleaned and sold to Asians who believe when ground up and ingested, can create a potion used as a fertility tool. The whiskers were kept for jewelry and toothpick purposes. Imagine that. Genius.
Finally, since this was the first walrus that Ash (one of our younger hunters) shot, he and Nuk cut and cleaned the skull to keep as a trophy.
Tonight’s dinner was the first non-Native evening meal we’ve had yet. I must say it wasn’t as exciting as our others and I find that I prefer the Native dishes to the spaghetti and meatballs. But I kept that to myself. I did, however, get to try the walrus (aiviq) blubber! It was chewy, like the other types before, but had the taste that reminded me a lot of hard-boiled egg. Strange, but good.
I had heard several nights ago, someone had brought out whale blubber (muktuk) but I missed it. Everyone keeps talking about how delicious it is. I am hoping that it will make another appearance before the end of the trip, as I am eager to try it.
Overall, no matter what we eat, I love the way food gathers and brings us together. I love it that we take a moment to give thanks for the food, for all the hard work of those who brought it in, those who slaved over the cleaning of the animal, and for those who prepared it for consumption. Instead of people expecting praise or boasting over accomplishments, they are given thanks and shown appreciation in a much greater way, in a way that acknowledges everyone, including the appreciation to the animal for giving itself. This connection to each other, to nature, and all things spiritual is really special and a crucial part to all we do. In all of this, it also brings us closer together as a group by encouraging everyone to keep working hard and to value all that each one of us has to offer at the camp.
No boat outings tonight as I had hoped. The waters are too choppy and the wind is biting. Instead, a fishnet is buoyed to shore and strung out by boat. Maybe there will be fish tomorrow.
Watching the nets bob, we warmed up to the fire and reviewed Inupiaq phrases and words. I am finding that I am retaining more than I thought. I still mess up some on the pronunciations, but I am pleased to find that there are words I recognize and remember right off the bat.
Bedtime. No fish tonight. It’s probably due to the choppiness of the water and the weather. I wouldn’t be out swimming in this weather either. ☺
_________________________________________________________________________________
Friday 7/18/08
No butchering today. Instead, we consolidated all the food and started packing the camp materials we no longer needed in preparation for going back tomorrow. After loading the boats and sending them off, the rest of us enjoyed our “non-butchering” downtime with song and dance. We learned several traditional dances and sang, as Ana kept beat with a traditional drum. Laughing at each other, we had fun. In turn, the weather responded to our good moods and began to clear up, blessing us with that smooth easterly wind.
Lunch was whale steak, muktuk (finally!), and tuttu soup. The whale steak, hands down, is the best Native food (not to mention meat) I have EVER eaten. It was strange in that it wasn’t fishy tasting like the other marine animals but it wasn’t like a red meat either. It was just plain delicious! While everyone else seemed to carve away at it with knives and forks, I was practically shoveling it into my mouth with my hands.
And on the subject of whale, I must say that the whale blubber (muktuk) is one of the most beautiful foods I have ever seen. The pink of the blubber contrasted against the inky blackness of the skin attached is a striking sight. Salted, it is delicious. In my opinion, far surpasses both the seal (ugruk/natchiq) and walrus (aiviq) blubber in taste and texture.
I also learned that if cold, to eat a piece and once it’s in the belly, it works to expand and warm the body. A few pieces later, I found this to be true. The bad thing is, if it gets caught between the back teeth (and it did) it also expands uncomfortably there too, making for a desperate search for floss (which I thankfully found).
We also are going on the tundra plant/nature walk! I have been greatly anticipating this. Unfortunately, in the middle of learning about dwarf willow, arctic cotton bud/willow (palliksraq), and coltsfoot (mapkutitaagruaq) and all of their incredible medicinal and resourceful properties, the boat returned. The final boat group was called to board for the last outing. I was torn since I wanted to do both.
I ended up heading out to sea, hoping we, like the last group, would head out to the ice and aiviq. Instead, we went further along the coastline to an area called Skull Cove (?) which turned out to be pretty impressive in its cliffs with crazy cutouts and different sediment make-ups/structures. The weather held and gave us an incredible view of the landscape; humbling me once again and making me feel so blessed to have had a chance to have this incredible experience.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Saturday 7/19/08
Today we packed up for good and closed up camp. With all hands on deck, it went quick. I am excited about returning back to the college but was also sad. I had really grown to like our camp set-up, routines, and community. I felt I learned and absorbed so much, but feel that I still have so much more to learn.
___________________________________________________________________________________
Sunday 7/20/08 - Tuesday 7/22/08
I have transitioned back to semi-real life. Back at the college, I have a bed, a shower, and a salad bar. These past few days have been filled with resting, museum and other touristy excursions, and finishing up this journal and hoping I got all my Inupiaq spellings correct...
Yes, it's required for the program I am doing this through. Not the blog, but instead a physical journal I had to type up.
For those who read through this and still have no idea why I was this far north and willingly carving up animals, I was invited (and accepted) to participate in a Alaska Native subsistence (hunting/gathering) camp. In this, I was exposed to the culture in all aspects, the language, the people, the food, the arts...All of it.
No, I did not actually "kill/shoot/harpoon" any of these animals. No baby seals were clubbed. I carry no hunting license, I have no skill in hunting, nor do I want to be put in jail by the Dept. of Fish and Wildlife. I am not Native, therefore, for many of these animals, I couldn't legally kill them even if I wanted to. I learned to butcher, prepare, and dry meat and how to use my skills in this to provide for a community of people. Don't get your panties in a wad over all this.
There was actually a teacher essay-like ending to this final original journal entry.
I spared you of this. You're welcome.
I make apologies if any of this got too mundane. Those of you who have followed previous blogs of mine in the past, know that I am not accustomed to writing in this type of voice. I hope the pictures and video clips caught your interest and and that none of you are too disappointed that I wasn't up to my elbows in a bloody massacre, 30-Days-of-Night style.
I will be receiving additional pictures and video footage (like of the actual walrus hunt) from some of the other participants soon and will update this as I get them, so check back.
Overall, this trip has been a truly enriching experience. I feel it will better connect me with many of my Native students who transfer my school in Anchorage. The knowledge that I have gained overall, completely fed right into my obsession and fascination with Alaska and it's history and culture. I loved every minute.
Thanks for reading. I hope you also got something out of this.
-C.
-C.
__________________________________________________________________________________
Posts
2 comments:
This is wonderful Cindy! I loved seeing your photos and reading some about the trip from your perspective.
I loved your blog! I totally get why you would want this experience - so glad it was a good one!
Mary Mirkin
Post a Comment