UNMIAQ RACE, ARTWORK, DANCING, TOUR AND FAREWELL

One of the highlights of the 4^th of July festivities was an umiaq race held on the ocean on Friday night.  Ten whaling crews would paddle out and around an ice berg in their skin boats, competing for a monetary prize and most likely the satisfaction of their teamwork and having a well-made vessel.  You’d think that I might have learned from the night before, but because this could be a once-in-a-lifetime experience for Sandi, Stefan and Michael, I found myself anxious for us to arrive when it was scheduled to begin at 7 pm.  I encouraged everyone to jog on our way from the apartment to where they would launch, shouting, “Run!  Come on!  It’s going to start in a few minutes!”  A few minutes turned into quite a while but we enjoyed the time immensely, meeting one of the whalers and his crew waiting to go out and his wife there keeping an eye on their young son who would be in the boat with his father.  We rested in the sun on large rusted metal structures protruding from the sand on the beach where the races were to be held.  The whaling crews took turns paddling out and back in, maybe practice runs for the race to come. 

The children on the beech were dressed in very light clothing and like beeches everywhere, adults enjoyed visiting while children played.  One little boy, I think his name was Clarence, wanted to walk across the metal pieces we were sitting on.  Not wanting to give up these premium seats unless absolutely necessary, we encouraged Clarence to let us help him walk over us which he did many times, a smile as big as his heart must have been beneath his running nose and shiny eyes.  It was delightful and funny and we felt, I think, as though we had made a good little friend.  He accepted my outstretched hand, moved over me to Sandi’s and finally to Stefan who lifted him up and over to another set of metal structures.  Stefan commented about his trust in complete strangers.  It is remarkable to observe here, in both children and adults…a simple and genuine interest in others and a lack of fear.  Maybe compared to the dangers of living and subsisting in an Arctic environment, several smiling white-skinned people in one’s way is at the very bottom of the list of things to be afraid of. 

The umiaq race was almost magical to watch with all ten crews swiftly paddling out and around the iceberg and heading back towards shore.  There were some appreciable distances between them.  The photos didn’t turn out as well as I’d hoped, but it was definitely a once-in-a-lifetime experience being there.  When we left, the crews were pulling their boats up on the shore and loading them up to go home. 

We had visited the Inupiaq Heritage Center in the afternoon and were invited to come back the following morning by Larry Okomailak, Sr., a baleen artist.  We found him in the workshop where he and other men work on projects that will be sold or be put on display.  I’ve visited Larry there several times before, always inspired by the work he and the other men are doing.  Each of them showed us the raw materials they were working with--baleen, a polar bear skull, a caribou jaw, or whale vertebra or bone and how they were fashioning each piece.  I’ve loved the baleen pieces that Larry sells here—five boats with sails made into a mobile and have wanted to buy one since coming among other things.  I think Sandi, Stefan and Michael enjoyed the tour of the shop as well and Larry couldn’t have been outdone in being a better host. 

When we left, he gave us each a piece of gray baleen and explained that they were very rare, taken from the over 200 year old whale most recently caught.  I discovered later in the day that mine was missing.  I’d tucked it inside my down jacket for safekeeping, but had inadvertently unzipped it at the library next door, so must have dropped it there.  I felt very irresponsible and badly and was wondering how I would explain my losing it to Larry. 

About two weeks later, after I’d made a trip to Washington and had returned to work, I found three pieces of gray baleen stitched together in my mail box.  I had the most unusual, although very welcome, feeling that the lost piece of baleen had found its way back to me and had brought two others along.  I’d planned to stop by the Heritage Center to ask Larry if he’d dropped it off at the Wellness Center, so was happy to see him on the road on the way there that evening.  He asked, “Which one of you dropped your baleen?” and then said, “Hang onto this one!” in a serious voice.  I expressed my heartfelt gratitude and have hung it on my wall.  I’m reminded both of his kindness and of my family’s visit here each time I glance at it. 

After our visit to the workshop, Sandi, Michael, Stefan and I found our way back into the main part of the Heritage Center.  In a hallway, Larry hurried over to where I was and said, “Get your sister and the boys!  I can get you into a performance you’ll all want to see!”  After gathering, he brought us in quietly through a back door to where young Inupiat people were dancing and drumming.  It was wonderful seeing them move and hearing the beating of the drums and the calls some of them occasionally made.  The dancers invited the audience to come up and dance and Larry insisted, saying that it was payment for getting us in.  I knew that my family would want pictures of this, so declined and took some very fun pictures. 

The morning Sandi, Stefan and Michael left, Glenn Sheehan, an anthropologist here, picked us up for a last tour around Barrow.  He helped to load their luggage into his vehicle and thought it would be best if they dropped it off and checked in at Alaska Airlines before we all set off. 

I think we all enjoyed and were enthralled by Glenn’s insights into the history of Barrow and the archeological findings he talked about on our drive.  I took notes on a small piece of paper, but inadvertently misplaced it.  Here are links to Glenn and his wife, Anne Jenson’s, work here and on the North Slope.  It’s all pretty fascinating.

http://www.arcticstories.net/arcticlife.html#GSheehan

http://www.arcticstories.net/arcticlife.html#AJensen

Glenn dropped us off at the small terminal with time to spare.  Heartfelt farewells and strong hugs were exchanged by all before Sandi, Michael and Stefan boarded their flight, headed for adventures in Anchorage before returning to their home in Pennsylvania and school in Delaware for Stefan.  A truly wonderful visit…thanks for coming up!!! 

I walked to the end of the runway, watching their flight soar overhead to the south and then walked quietly home pondering all of the highlights of their visit and of how much I love my family.  

I also thought about how I was going to wash the sheets and bath towels my guests had used while here…just being practical.  I’m still using my small capacity portable counter top washer with no rinse or spin cycle.  It holds one sheet at a time and the last time I washed one, I had some nice sized blisters when the multiple rinses and wringing was complete.  Option one didn’t sound very efficient or pain free.  I’d be leaving in several days for Washington and a visit to my daughter’s house there.  I considered bringing the laundry, but abandoned the idea fairly soon.  I’d need my tote space on the return flight to bring food up.  Second option crossed off.  I was scheduled to do some cat and dog sitting a few weeks after returning from Washington and their benevolent moms had offered the use of their washers and dryers when there, if needed, so option three it was.  Thanks Jan, Julie, Nanook and Jenta!