Shishamaref Part Deux
There is fresh water here. At least there is a well. We are staying in the clinic, which is actually pretty plush, considering that it is one of only four places in town with running water and an indoor bathroom. Everyone else here uses what they call “honey buckets”, similar to an outhouse for the rest of us. Aside from the fresh water, a collection of ramshackle houses (don’t get to use the ramshackle very often) a little grass and some peat, this is no more than a sand bar.
Clinic was very hectic yesterday, as they scheduled both Dr. Daniel and I with back to back patients, despite the fact that he has to see all of mine as well (the glory of being second guessed as a med student). We were exhausted last night. The second person I met yesterday, however, none other than the “Shishmaref Cannonball” himself, Herbie Nayoktuk. Iditarod royalty. He even invited us over to see all of his trophies. That story, a little later. The people here have been very friendly, being the new folks in a 98% Inuit community of 500, we stick out like a pink flamingo.
The town is made up of plywood houses stacked right next to each other with sand pathways and embankments made by 4 wheelers running between. Speaking of 4 wheelers, I forgot to mention our transport from the “airport” was a 4 wheeler with a trailer carrying the aforementioned boxes of chips. Two of us rode on the back on a caribou hide covering the luggage rack. The seaward side is falling off into the sea, and the side of the island facing the bay looks like a grassy beach running into a quiet lake. Sounds so peaceful until you throw 50 years of rusting metal, snow machines, and any junk you can possibly imagine in the worst trailer park into the mix. What ever comes to Shishmaref, stays in Shishmaref.
We walked the beach on the north(?) end of the island last night, and I have amassed quite the collection of dead animal sightings. Lots of seals, a walrus, gulls, some whale bones, and some random caribou and musk ox parts. Everything seems to wash up on the beach here. Both ends of the island are capped when the grass just kind of runs out and become the biggest sand bars you’ve ever seen.
Enough for tonight. We did go to Herbie’s house and also met Joey Reddington (son of the father of the Iditarod), but that’s a story for perhaps tomorrow. Good night sweet children.
Clinic was very hectic yesterday, as they scheduled both Dr. Daniel and I with back to back patients, despite the fact that he has to see all of mine as well (the glory of being second guessed as a med student). We were exhausted last night. The second person I met yesterday, however, none other than the “Shishmaref Cannonball” himself, Herbie Nayoktuk. Iditarod royalty. He even invited us over to see all of his trophies. That story, a little later. The people here have been very friendly, being the new folks in a 98% Inuit community of 500, we stick out like a pink flamingo.
The town is made up of plywood houses stacked right next to each other with sand pathways and embankments made by 4 wheelers running between. Speaking of 4 wheelers, I forgot to mention our transport from the “airport” was a 4 wheeler with a trailer carrying the aforementioned boxes of chips. Two of us rode on the back on a caribou hide covering the luggage rack. The seaward side is falling off into the sea, and the side of the island facing the bay looks like a grassy beach running into a quiet lake. Sounds so peaceful until you throw 50 years of rusting metal, snow machines, and any junk you can possibly imagine in the worst trailer park into the mix. What ever comes to Shishmaref, stays in Shishmaref.
We walked the beach on the north(?) end of the island last night, and I have amassed quite the collection of dead animal sightings. Lots of seals, a walrus, gulls, some whale bones, and some random caribou and musk ox parts. Everything seems to wash up on the beach here. Both ends of the island are capped when the grass just kind of runs out and become the biggest sand bars you’ve ever seen.
Enough for tonight. We did go to Herbie’s house and also met Joey Reddington (son of the father of the Iditarod), but that’s a story for perhaps tomorrow. Good night sweet children.
posted by rob at 11:07 PM
3 Comments:
Hey Rob - I've enjoyed reading your blog, especially since I do not get the Hallmark channel and have been in need of some Northern Exposure for a while now. Just wanted to send along this link because this guy kind of looks like you:
http://www.tucsonweekly.com/gbase/Cover/index?issue=2004-08-05
Have fun on the rest of your trip!
PS. Please tell Jana I'm sorry for being a horrible slacker and I hope she doesn't hate me too much. I promise to correct my ways when she returns.
Well first of all you need to get your stories straight. The Shishmaref people are not Inuit, they are Inupiaq and second I think you over-exaggerate.
Thanks for your post, Anonymous. My apologies to the people of Shishmaref for incorrectly calling them Inuit. I truly try not to exaggerate, because there are enough fantastic stories up here without my additions (and reading through this post from 2004, everything seems very acurate to my recollection). This being the internet, and not a great factual resource, however, I hope you take my writings for what they are and enjoy them. thanks for reading.
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