“
What would you like to be when you grow up?” he slowly
asked the Eskimo boy. The boy looked at him and giggled,
seeming not to understand the words. The bush pilot tried
again to communicate
his question. This time he used big expansive arm movements
to help convey his meaning.
“
Grow up.” He stood up using his hands to express growth
and pointed to the laughing boy. This time he saw a glimmer
of recognition in the boy’s face.
“
Great whaling captain,” the boy responded as if he
had been asked this question before, and the words had
been rehearsed.
The pilot nodded. But, as he did, he wondered
if “whaling
captain” would exist as a livelihood when the boy
grew up. He had seen many changes in other native villages
over the
last few years, and a inexplicable sadness touched him.
They
sat together for awhile, looking out over the barren ice
flow. Soon the sun began to turn into a glowing ember
as it
set on the curved horizon, orange at the middle, surrounded
by a
burning red. This seemed to be a signal to both of them
to get up from the overturned boat they had been sitting
on and
head
back toward the village.
While they walked, the boy began
to sing a song in his native language. The pilot did
not understand the words,
but it seemed
a plaintive song, perhaps a song of mourning or loss. Or
maybe, he thought hopefully, it was a song of joy sung
slowly and
quietly.
As they arrived at the shack that was the boy’s
home, the warmth of the room mingled with the smell of
seal made this truly
a haven against the cold and hunger lying just a few feet
out the door.
The soft glow of oil lamps lighted the cooking
area and table. A woman stood at a cutting board carving
pieces
of muktuk from
a slab of whale. As she cut, the rocking motion of her
arm was making full use of the ulu. She turned and laughed
when
she saw
her son and the pilot.
“
Tuuvick” she said with a smile spreading over her moon-shaped
face. Tuuvick ran over to his mother and words started to spill
out of his mouth.
“
No, Tuuvick, use your English,” she said, nodding her head
toward the pilot.
“
We were sitting and watching,” Tuuvick said slowly.
“
Watching for what?” asked his mother as she brought over
food to set on the table.
“
For father to return,” he said anxiously, looking
up at his mother.
She laughed and said, “You know,
many more days before your father returns. He is on very
important hunting trip.”
As Tuuvick and his mother
talked, the pilot took off his parka and sat by the oil
stove, warming his hands over
the metal
that encased the source of heat for this house. As he sat
he noticed
in the corner a small pile of furs in many different shades.
The fur was used as a ruff around little carved Eskimo
faces hanging on the wall.
The pilot stood up to examine
the faces closer. It struck him how all the faces were
smiling. He thought they looked
like
perfect replicas of the faces in the village. Even though
he had just arrived the day before, all of the villagers
he had come
in contact with were warm and welcoming.
“
Kasak, who made these faces?” he asked as he turned to
walk over to the table and help himself to some of the food.
“
My aunt made most of them and she taught me, so now I make them
too,” Kasak answered. “They aren’t much, but
the last pilot that was here to drop off supplies paid us one
dollar apiece for them.”
“
I would like to buy as many of these as you have. And I
will give you two dollars apiece for them.”
Laughing,
Kasak replied, “One dollar seems more than enough.
They are made from old scraps that have no other use.”
With
a wave of her hand, she motioned Tuuvick and the pilot
to sit at the table and eat. Some of the food was familiar
to the
pilot as he was the one that brought it to the village.
There before them were canned peaches--a delicacy in the
far north, pilot bread--Kakurrak, and, of course, cans
of Pepsi.
They finished their meal and Kasak began to ask
questions. Did the pilot know any of their families’ relatives
that had moved from the village to what they considered
the big city
--Fairbanks? He said yes, he had met some of her family
at potlucks held at the church. This was not the complete
truth and
Kasak seemed to sense that.
“
I hear stories of drinking and reports that one of our
cousins is in jail?” she asked.
For the first time,
the pilot noticed a frown on Kasak’s
face.
In the five years the pilot had been in Alaska, he
had watched many natives move from the villages to Fairbanks.
Some did
well. Others had a difficult time adjusting to the white
man’s
way of doing things. The drinking problems had given the
natives a bad reputation in Fairbanks. But he didn’t
want to shame Kasak with the details of her family members
drinking
and getting into fights.
“
Yes, there is some drinking going on downtown, but for
the most part everybody gets on pretty well,” he
tried to explain. “It’s
just that there is not much to do during the winter months
and sometimes people just go stir crazy.”
He tried
to keep a light conversational tone to his voice. However,
he knew the problem went deeper than just a few
people occasionally
drinking.
Again, Kasak frowned at these words. The winters
had always been long. This was a time to visit and tell
stories while
drinking
tea, a time to sew and repair parkas and mukluks.
“
Don’t they have any work to do in Fairbanks?” Kasak
asked as she stood up to clear the table.
“
There is work, but most of it requires training,” explained
the pilot. “Some of the villagers are working as
construction workers, but during the winter there is no
building going on.”
At that moment they heard the
dogs outside barking and the door burst open. There stood
a group of smiling and
laughing
women
and children. Most of the men were out on the hunt and
the women of the village had heard that Kasak was entertaining
the
pilot.
While the pilot taxied down the frozen runway, he
thought of the last words he had with Kasak this morning
on the
tarmac
before takeoff.
“
Take these , for no money,” Kasak said, as she handed him
a bag filled with the Eskimo faces he had so admired. He started
to protest, but she waved his words away. “Give some of
them to our family in Fairbanks. Tell them they are from our
village,” she added.
“
I’ll do that,” he said as he took the bag, and looked
at Kasak.
“
I know.” She held his eyes for a moment, then walked
away to join the others who had gathered around to see
the pilot go.
As he climbed toward the Arctic sun, he looked
down to
see the villagers gathered around waving good-bye. Many
colors
of parkas
with laughing faces turned up to the sky stood by the
runway. Disappearing into the dawn, he looked beside
him at the
bag of smiling faces that were his friends.
Fathers
Jan Westlake
Kiana
7th grade
Fathers show us how to hold our gun
when we are just young boys.
How to hold the ax to cut
the wood we use.
His hands so strong
sets a trap to catch a wolverine.
Our little hands are shown the way
by dad’s touch.
Photo courtesy of Christine Aklalook
Bert Flood Jr.
Kiana
7th grade
Mother cooks the soup so warm and delicious.
Dad saws the wood that heats the house.
Auntie helps clean the house no dirty houses.
I fish for the long
winter season.
Family Roles
Micheline Baldwin
Kiana
8th grade
Family Roles is an important value for the Ińupiaq
people. Starting with the grandmothers, she looks after
the extended family. She needs to know where everyone
is and make sure they are alright.
The grandmothers, also
known as “Aana,” usually
go out to visit their friends or just stays in and
sews or knits.
Grandfathers, “Taata,” are
also very important. They give advice on survival for
hunting and camping
trips.
Mothers have a lot of work to do. They have to
process meat, dry fish, tan skins and wash the clothes
and
dishes. But the mother’s most important role
is to be responsible for their children, both physically
and emotionally.
They usually sew to relax when they are done with their
daily work.
Fathers have a lot to do. They do the hunting,
gather wood and mostly outside activities. They also
have
to give advice
on hunting and safety tips to the boys.
The daughters
to a lot of work around the house. They clean and help
their mothers and grandmothers
with
their chores,
like hanging fish and more. The boys help their
fathers by doing subsistence hunting and fishing. They
also
chop the wood and bring it in the house.
The Aunts
usually help around the house and make caps and other
clothing. The uncles help the other
men in
the family
by hunting and other outside jobs.
Nowawdays,
the roles of the Inupiaq people are not always practiced.
Because of this, there
have been
a lot of suicides
and drug and alcohol abuse. That is why it
is important to pass on the Inupiaq values, so they
will help
people know what their responsibilities are.