NALUKATAQ 2014 IN BARROW...A DAY TO REMEMBER

I couldn’t stop laughing as Jennifer and I, both cold to the bone, made our way from Simmonds Field, along the dirt path and then through mud puddles, each clad in heavy jackets, hats, gloves and tall rubber boots, both hanging onto a handle of her cooler that was filled with gallon sized zip lock bags containing fermented and unfermented whale meat, intestines, kidney, heart, tongue, maktak and whipped caribou fat. A collapsed folding chair was balanced on top as we walked, with me making brief stops to double over laughing at what we must look like and how different my life is here. Jennifer laughed too while saying "What are you laughing about!? We live in Barrow...this is what people do here!" I know, I know, but it still strikes me as very funny for us to be doing it.

We had arrived empty handed and curious at close to noon to partake in Saturday’s Nalukataq, a celebration of the spring whale catches by the Hopson and Adams crews. We saw many people sitting on chairs and coolers around the inside periphery of a large visqueened off area of the field just west of the post office. It was the first time either of us had attended and we soon learned that we would need to go home and return with seating as well as bowls, spoons and napkins if we wanted to enjoy some of the food the whaling crews and their families were distributing and zip lock bags if we wanted to take any home. We returned with the requisite items and found a comfortable spot amid the several hundred other people.

A woman sitting behind us suggested that we raise our hands. We took her advice and soon two of the whalers’ family members carried a large pot of hot soup between them over to where we sat and ladled our paper bowls until full of broth, rice, duck meat and in my case, a delicacy, I’m sure, a duck head. I’m sure we were a comical pair now and later as we gratefully partook with Jennifer leaning over and saying softly, “are you kidding? You’re actually going to eat that duck head?” I had been served the same thing while in Kaktovik last September and had felt the same way, but this time decided, when in Barrow, do as the hunters do, and actually enjoyed my entrée.

The weather was overcast and cool in the high 30’s, but I felt warmed by a combination of conversation with Jennifer, hearing about her month-long family trip to Europe, listening to the beautiful voices of Inupiat women and men as they said prayers and sang to accompanying acoustic guitar music, visiting with friends who happened to walk by and watching children play. This was picnicking at its best. Jennifer was agreeable to our staying until the maktak was served which I greatly appreciated. I enjoy it when taken in small quantities and wanted to have some of it and the other parts in my freezer as well for when company comes to visit. Although she declined taking some for herself—I think they fell into the same category as the duck head--she accepted some of each on my freezer’s behalf and expressed beautifully what I was thinking when served each time, thanking the men and women servers for their generous sharing and for the sometimes life-threatening conditions they endured to bring in their catch. We both reflected on how generous and hardworking they are, preparing their skin boats for the hunt, hunting, hauling the whales in, harvesting and storing or boiling or fermenting and then preparing for the daylong celebration where they serve the entire community. I loved her words and thought about them being a tribute to their generosity, something I’ve pondered and wondered how I could ever repay. Maybe sincere words reflected back by their warm smiles was truly the only gift that could be given.

The hours passed as they do when fully engaged in one’s surroundings. Every once in a while, Jennifer would ask if I was ready to leave…we were both shivering, not being used to sitting in the cold for so long. Assuring her that I thought that the maktak would be served anytime, we found the tent with large urns of coffee and tea. After returning to our seats, servers asked if we would like to try some Eskimo ice cream. They were passing out what looked like small, rectangular cakes covered with powdered sugar. Usually not something I’d eat, I accepted one and bit into it thinking how wonderful to be enjoying something sweet after the fermented whale meat that I’d recently had. I was happy to see Jennifer enjoying her first bite as well when we both stopped and looked at each other with curious expressions. We asked a woman walking by what the supposed confection was made of and learned that it was whipped and frozen caribou fat…ah, Eskimo ice cream…I get it.

Jennifer was a very good sport, staying with me until the coveted maktak was finally served soon after 5 pm. I’m sure I put her friendship to the test, but she never said so, although she was very glad when at last the large frozen white and black chunks fell into our open bags and we had expressed our thanks. We were very cold, but happy while we hauled her cooler and my folding chair to my apartment. We agreed to meet and return to the field again after 7 pm for the blanket toss, something we were both hoping to participate in as well as to see. I didn’t dare warm up with a shower or bath as I’m sure I would have fallen into a deep sleep, especially after having returned from a week of long days in Point Lay the afternoon before. At 7:15 pm, I texted Jennifer and when she didn’t respond, found myself relieved, thinking that she had fallen asleep and that I would soon find myself in my own comfortable bed. A few minutes later, however, her bright response was texted back indicating that she’d meet me behind her building in a few minutes. She looked as chipper as ever, having had a hot shower and dinner…amazing.

I was happy that we’d come as soon as we started walking. It felt warmer out and the sun was lighting up the formerly gray sky. There were several children playing on the suspended blanket that we learned later was made up of the ugruk seal skins that had been sewn together to cover the wooden whale boat frames. This one was taken off of the boat that caught the first whale and was made part of the celebration. I grew cold quickly as Jennifer I and sat on a wooden beam at the base of the visqueen wind barrier so suggested that we walk for a while until the activities began. We met several other people who walked with us, a nurse and a lab technician from the hospital who also thought they’d heard that the blanket toss would begin around 7 pm. I was ready to wander home, shivering and cold again by 8 pm, but definitely owed Jennifer my company this evening as she had her heart set on staying longer to see if the blanket toss would be taking place.

Other people started arriving after 9 pm and soon the tall wood pieces with a V at the top that served as elevators for the ropes attached to the seal skin blanket and anchored into the ground some distance away were hoisted higher. Adults began gathering around the blanket, each taking a hold of a rope handle. After an individual was lifted up and onto the blanket and found their footing, the group began pulling rhythmically, creating a soft trampoline effect. This lasted for several minutes until at last more energy was put into the pulling and the person was thrown high into the sky. Some landed on their feet for several tosses while others landed in various positions and some almost flew over the side but were fortunately caught. I was mesmerized and so glad we’d stayed. Jennifer and I decided that we didn’t feel experienced enough to risk breaking any needed bones and I didn’t want to get my clothes dirty although I’m sure I could impose on a friend and use their washing machine to clean my thick jacket. We stayed until almost 10:30 pm when we relented from shivering, both happy to have had a fun day but also to be headed in the direction of our respective hot showers and warm beds.

THE HOPSON AND ADAMS WHALING CREWS AND THEIR FAMILIES PREPARING TO SERVE THE COMMUNITY.

PARKA WITH RUFF MADE FROM SILVER FOX. FUR AND HIDES HAVE KEPT THE INUPIAT PEOPLE HERE WARM FOR CENTURIES. TEMPERATURES DROP TO LOWER THAN 50 BELOW ZERO IN THE WINTER.

AN OLDER UNUPIAT WOMAN WEARING AN ATIKLUK OR SUMMER PARKA.

MIKE AND LEIGH MAYBERRY STOPPED BY TO SAY HELLO TO JENNIFER AND ME. MIKE IS A NURSE AT THE HOSPITAL, LEIGH IS A NURSE IN THE COMMUNITY HEALTH AID PROGRAM AND JENNIFER AND I ARE PUBLIC HEALTH NURSES.