Drinking From the Fire Hose

I’ve had several of my peers from Kent tell me they’ve learned more from their districts’ in-service days than they have in their entire college career. I’m not sure if I can say the same, but I've certainly learned a lot. For two days, each of the new educators of the Lower Kuskokwim school district came together and learned a little about the culture and what it meant to teach for the district. We covered topics concerning the cultural practices of the different villages and teaching which included: Yuraq (you-hawk) which is a traditional dance of celebration and prayer, subsistence living, how to cut a salmon, what I may expect when I land in the village and begin interacting with the families, my curriculum, and how the district can support my teaching. Did I mention I learned how to cut a salmon? It’s been quite a bit of information to say the least, but it’s been a wonderful experience thus far.

The culture here is amazing and diverse. The in-service days was opened by local dancers who came in and showed us Yuraq. Yuraq is a form of celebration and/or prayer through dancing. I can say it’s quite a bit of fun considering me and the other educators were invited to join in. The motions are all in the arms, shoulders, and head, and the women stand in the back while the men kneel in front. A drummer sits in the back and sings while beating a simple 4/4 rhythm. Each song tells a story that has a moral, and they range from songs about cranes and ravens to village elders speaking to young men. It’s a very freeing form of dance because, if you mess up, there is no pressure to correct yourself or make sure you don’t mess up again. People will laugh, but it’s a contagious laughter. If you aren’t good at laughing at yourself before you dance Yuraq then you certainly learn to by the end of the dance.

I also got to try some of the local dishes. I tried the baked salmon, fish stew (eyeballs, eggs, bones, and fins included), fish strips (sort of like a fish jerky), and seal. All were very good in their own ways. The baked salmon and fish strips reminded me of food I’d have back at home. The stew was delicious; it tasted like a any kind of chowder. You definitely had to get over the fact that it had a lot of eggs in it, and you had to be careful about the bones. The seal, although still good, was my least favorite because it tasted like eating a fishy tasting piece of leather. It’s supposed to be served with more oil on it than it had though, so I’ll chalk up my disappointment to that.

The last thing I’ll write about today are the expectations I’m supposed to have for living in the village. The more experienced staff said having a more reserved approach. Bush villagers are more quite and enjoy the silence of the day where as people from the lower 48 – like myself – are more prone to breaking that silence because we feel uncomfortable in it. Luckily, I have grown to have a better appreciation of silence ever since I started teaching. However, I was also told that the reserved attitudes of the villagers towards me will be temporary, that laughter is usually what fills the void after a while. I look forward to that very much.