Home for Christmas

Miracle of miracles! I made it out of Alaska for Christmas.
      

Modeling the flannel pants my dad received
for Christmas. They were a bit large, so I used
the drawstring to tie them around my neck.

Interior Alaska was plagued with major snowstorms in the week leading up to Christmas. The majority of our students' flights had to be cancelled and rescheduled. Some flights were cancelled four days in a row. This meant that the residential staff had to work an additional four days to take care of the stranded students.

On the morning of Christmas Eve I arrived at our tiny airport to discover that my flight was delayed because of the weather. I eventually made it to Fairbanks, then to Anchorage, and then to Seattle for a lengthy layover.

Then I spent Christmas Eve in the Seattle airport. By this time it was 7:00 pm, and I had not eaten since breakfast. Unfortunately for me, every single restaurant or food vendor was closed for the holiday. In fact, the airport was a ghost town. I wandered the empty airport for the next 12 hours.

The final leg of my journey was the flight from Seattle to Minneapolis, where I was picked up by my dad to celebrate Christmas Day! After 24 hours of sleepless travel-time I was overjoyed to be with my family for Christmas.

Santa was generous enough to fill up a giant stocking for me,
complete with wool socks and a Happy Light!

I practically cried when I stepped outside and saw the sun. (And felt warm 20 degree air for the first time in months!)

My dad drove me to my parents' apartment where I got to see my mom, sisters, and Mei Mei (my dear little cat) for the first time since August. As much as I love Alaska, it is psychologically refreshing to get out for a little while.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Four odd things

• Eyebrow talk
       In Alaskan Native culture people communicate using their eyebrows. A slight raise of the eyebrows means "yes." An exaggerated raising of the eyebrows means "obviously" or "of course." To say "no" people slightly scrunch their nose.
        In my first few weeks working here I had many confusing conversations with students because of this. They would answer a yes/no question with their eyebrows and I would stand there oblivious, waiting for a response. There were also times I would unintentionally move my eyebrows.
       For example, a student would ask me for a favor and I would raise my eyebrows in an "Are you kidding me?" expression. Then their face would light up, "Thanks Brittany! You're the best!" I would stand there confused, wondering why they thought I accepted.
      It is now becoming much easier to pick up on the subtle communication.
  
• No toilet paper
        Alaskans do not call toilet paper "toilet paper." Instead they call it tissue.
        I learned this my first week working in the dorms. I was sitting on the girls' floor after lights out and a student walked out of her room towards me. "I need tissue," she said.
        I responded, "It's after lights out; just use toilet paper."
        The student stared at me in confusion. After a pause she said, "No, I need more tissue."
        Now it was my turn to be confused. "Why do you need tissue? We don't have boxes of Kleenix up here. Can't you use toilet paper?"
        This poor tortured student stood there and it suddenly dawned on me that she was talking about toilet paper. I apologized and helped her restock her bathroom with "tissue."
         The students have told me that they had never heard it called toilet paper until meeting white people from the Lower 48.
  
• No recycling    You would think that Alaska would be one of the most environmentally-conscious states, given all of the untouched beauty of the Alaskan wilderness. However, I have learned that recycling is not only uncommon here, it is almost unheard of.
         No one recycles. Our school does not even recycle paper. It may be because there are no recycling plants for hundreds of miles, so we would have to pay to fly our recyclables out of Galena. But even my coworkers from Fairbanks or Anchorage said that no one recycles.
         Instead we have a dump on the edge of the village where everything is piled. It is a great place to watch bears.

• Crooked teeth      In the Lower 48 crooked teeth are not very common, because almost everyone with crooked teeth gets braces. In Alaskan villages there are no orthodontists, so almost everyone has crooked teeth.
        Only the wealthy can afford to get their kids braces, because each visit to the orthodontist involves a plane ticket to Fairbanks or Anchorage. That is a minimum of $420 for one person's flight alone. Now imagine paying for that flight each month for two years, plus the cost of braces.