Kotzebue in the Spring

Looking out over the lagoon to the tundra from Kotzebue.

In the distance, an occasional dog barks.  Down the dirt road from our apartment Iditorod winner John Baker kennels his dogs. There are also the sounds of seagulls but no screeches from the huge ravens feeding off the remnants of food found in open dumpsters throughout this native village located above the Arctic Circle. Mostly it's just quiet.

Early afternoon as people begin to emerge in Kotzebue.

Since the school year ended, the sleep cycle of many Eskimos living in the Village of Kotzebue has been reversed. Sleep during the day and up in the late afternoon makes for empty streets and quiet in the mornings. Traditionally Eskimos slept during the heat of day and performed subsistence work at night.

The tradition of sleeping during the day continues to be handed down to the young people of this generation. Kotzebue streets are filled with children playing out on bikes, walking the streets, and stomping through puddles until the the late-night hours. Some children at the club brag of the all-nighters they have already experienced this year. Of course not all have the luxury of this lifestyle. Work in this community continues on its normal schedule in a similar way to any community in the Lower 48.

The signs of an early break up can be seen up river. Extensive flooding is occurring in Buckland and the tiny village of Kobuk. Emergency crews from the Northwest Arctic Borough were flown to these remote villages to evacuate residents from their homes to the village schools yesterday.

Nowhere for the water to go during the melt.

The effects of the melt are continuing to be felt here in Kotzebue. This frozen strip of land stands as a barrier to the waters accumulating from melting snow and ice. City public works crews are busy pumping out the excess water collecting in large puddles around the village. Cars and four wheelers ride over the crisscross of swollen hoses that are redirecting the muddy water from the low-lying areas out towards the Sound, lagoon, and Swan Lake.

Mosquitoes are beginning their short lifespan here in the Arctic. A five-year old in the next booth chanted "mosquito, mosquito" at Bayside Restaurant yesterday where I was eating a late lunch. From our vantage, we could see the calming stretch of ice over the Kotzebue Sound.

Construction season has begun along Front Street.

Construction season has resumed along Shore Avenue with AIC working to complete the road project begun last summer. On a walk yesterday, I saw orange cones lining portions of the roadway while a bulldozer moved gravel and dirt that had been barged in last summer from Nome. The huge bump outs lining this street that fronts the Kotzebue Sound will be landscaped with native plants and flowers as well as placement of interpretative signage, benches and picnic tables. The huge sheet pilings that were driven into the permafrost last season are continuing to hold the remaining soil from being washed away. Erosion is a serious problem throughout the Northwest Arctic Borough due to continued shorter and more mild winters.

Construction of the new hotel continues.

The new high-rise hotel that SKW Eskimos, Inc. is building will be completed this summer. This structure dwarfs the old hotel that is located within feet of the new building along Shore Avenue. A proud accomplishment by NANA Development Corporation, the new Nullagvik Hotel is due to open this fall with 78 guest rooms, a year-round restaurant and other amenities.

One of many flights out to the villages.

The loud sound of a prop plane punctures through the silence of this early morning hour. On clear days like today air travel is permissible out to the villages from this hub city. Their loud, engine sounds stand as a reminder of the remoteness of this region where most communities are only accessible by air this time of year.

These planes serve as a reminder of the valuable link between this city to its neighboring inhabitants spread throughout this vast region. The great ice road has already closed for the season. The air has returned to its quiet stasis, and breakfast is calling my name.

Seagulls and Soil in Kotzebue

Late this week, the weather resembled an Oregon Coast winter transplanted to the Far North.  There were white caps on windblown waves pounding against the shore of the lagoon. Misty rain came down in sheets; windy and cool. The winter quiet had arrived.

The seagulls were happily gliding in the wind, dancing on currents with little effort. From our living room window, I could see them coasting between the apartment complex across the street and Teacher Housing building A. Those green-painted units house seasonal workers for AIC, some acronym that begins with the word Alaska and has to do with constructing roadways or other transportation methodologies.

Steel frames help to position piling.

AIC workers are thrusting metal sheet piling into the ocean sand along Shore Avenue. Most people refer to this roadway as Front Street because it is the ancient front door of Kotzebue, as evidenced by the oldest dwellings located there. AIC will finish their work this year sometime in October as winter will dip to sometimes 30 below and the permafrost will be impenetrable.  In spring, they will resume the project with completion expected sometime before fall.

The project is an attempt to stave off erosion, which is shrinking the roadway along the street. The metal sheet piling is also meant to provide protection from large chunks of ice that can run aground and slam into cars and homes while rushing through the channel during Break up.

Erosion is a real problem in Alaska. A recent article in the Arctic Sounder mentioned that scientist have found that because the Freeze up occurs later each year, the ocean waves and rushing rivers have more time to eat away at the banks of of towns and villages. When I recently visited the Eskimo village of Kivalina, I saw a sea wall comprised of huge boulders that had been barged in from far away. It is hoped they will hold dirt on the peninsula. Backyards along the ocean shore have fallen into the ocean and been swept away by currents.

Five years ago community stakeholders considered relocating Kivalina but decided instead to try this method without doing any studies on whether it would work. It was a cheaper solution than moving a village and more funding was available for the project. Uprooting families that had lived there for countless generations played a factor in deciding not to move the village.

The gulls outside my window enjoyed their flights. Some just hoovered above and others rocketed through the air on those invisible currents. Some flew in twos, others solo. Beneath them the wind forced waves of salty water against the shore, depositing foam on the pebbled shore. In my flu-caused delirium, I thought it had been the first hint of snow.

A small plane lifted its front and and then back wheels off the runway located along the opposite shore of the lagoon. The take off was somewhat blurred by the misty rain. More than likely the transport was traveling to a neighboring village carrying people or Internet orders. More than four charter and commercial airlines fly in and out of this hub city every day.

No more seagulls to watch. Rain fell softly outside the fogged up windows. The quiet of the day lingered. The muse was finished with me for that day, and I longed for Rick to be home watching the gulls.

Beginning Observations

Life in Kotzebue is a mix of old culture and new conveniences. While most are no longer dependent on subsistence living, there is a gap between early traditions and modern culture. Fishing camps, beaver furs, atvs, snow mobiles, ice fishing and ipods are components of a life that has broken with its past. While the night makes a short appearance this time of year, the winter darkness is quickly approaching. All-night get-togethers and cruising the streets are summer activities that will soon be replaced by snow mobiles, dog mushers, and take out meals.

The experiences you will find on this blog are only slivers of the whole that is occurring here. They are one perspective of many. I came here for love, to love a good man. Such a choice has brought fullness to my life and to his. Future posts will consist of replays, interpretations and wonderings of the Eskimo culture, which is as thick and impenetrable as the permafrost upon which we all walk.

Today while out garage saling, we drove past a fish camp at North Beach. The huts appeared to be more like awnings with support posts. Some had wooden roofs and plywood walls, none were permanent. Quartered salmon were drying while suspended from the ceiling of one of the structures. Farther down the shore was a large crane offloading nets, filled with freshly caught chum salmon, into steel bins. They will be flown out on the afternoon jet. Last night we passed a semi truck loaded with fish-filled bins making their way to the airport to fly out on the evening jet.

Work on Shore Drive has caused delays for vehicle traffic. With funds from the state Department of Transportation, large bump outs or vistas are being constructed out into the Kotzebue Sound. A wall of metal sheet piling is being installed off shore. When the steel pilings hit permafrost, a large driver cuts through the icy bottom. Noise complaints increase when the driver is working. One of the vistas has been receiving fill that arrived on the July barge. Others are still under construction and are due to be  completed at the end of October. Repaving of the street is scheduled for next summer.

Along Shore Drive are some of the oldest homes. A mix of old log cabins and stick homes line the street. Gray logs brought from 'up river' were used to build these ancient structures and house a few residents while colorful one- and two-story homes with larger windows that face the water are home to others. One of my favorites is a cabin that bears a welcome sign 'Kotzebue, Alaska,' and is located near the post office. Relics of these old structures have been cast off into vacant lots. They hint at an earlier time.

The local gathering spot is the U.S. Post Office where residents visit sometimes two or three times a day waiting for packages from the Outside. To a person from the Lower 48, the building is oversized for the town's population. Mail of all sizes is brought in from Anchorage by Alaska Airlines jets that land here three times a day. Orders online comprise much of the commerce around town.

While I was at the P.O. yesterday, the Harris family had put up tables outside the lobby for selling homemade sweets like cookies, cinnamon rolls, and buns. There was also homemade chili. I purchased some cinnamon rolls. But it was too early for the chili.  On one of the tables was a photo of a couple in Eskimo clothing that was taken around the end of the 1800s. The elderly women proudly explained that the Harris's were the largest family in Kotzebue before the settlers came. The couple in the photo had 165 grandchildren. A family reunion was planned for a camp across the river. The women were raising money to fly family members to the camp for the August 9 & 10th even. Life goes on.

The purpose of this blog is to share what I've seen of life in Kotzebue, exactly 33 miles above the Arctic Circle.  Periodic entries and photos will be made. I hope those who read it will find it interesting and enlightening.