Tamara Ann Burgh

My Eskimo Family 66 (continued from January 9)

To start reading from the beginning, go to May 11, 2008.

With the winter snow machines came out making land travel less constricting. A trip to White Mountain across the frozen bay or over the hilly snow covered tundra to Koyuk was now possible. A couple of brothers, grown men, who I had only heard about and hadn't seen all summer and fall, holed up in their homes, were now out and about. These two Golovin residents, born and raised, whom I had never seen in my up to then 5-6 month residency, came into the store to buy gas for their snow machines. Their names were, strangely enough, Unsky and Gooksy and were the elusive brothers of outgoing flamboyant Jimmy. As small framed Jimmy's personality could be pesky, his brother's larger stature and shy and indifferent personalities could be somewhat frightening. Like Jimmy, they drank a lot. So I heard.

When they came into the store for the first time, I figured these two had to be the brothers I'd only heard about. Their non-conversational demeanor made me nervous and when they did finally speak I could barely hear what they were wanting. They asked for their jerry jugs to be filled with gas and a can of oil mixed in. I had to ask the one talking to please repeat a couple of times. He would barely look at me and I didn't want to upset him by asking him to repeat several times. I eventually understood what he needed but succomed to my nervousness and blurted out, "You're Jimmy's brothers? Unsky and Gunksky? Oonsky and Gooksy?" Fortunately they laughed at my slaughtering of their names and the tension between us broke. I would see the brothers only one other time during my stay in Golovin.

Snow cover and more freedom of movement also meant a realigning of one's bearings. The snow cover and frozen bay gave the landscape an all-over evenness. Rising and falling hills, sharp dark rock formations, coastlines and water were now blended into a white softening of the landscape and the occasional disappearance of a horizon. One winter visit from M.O., home from school, he suddenly told me to follow him. It was night. He straddled the driver's seat of a snow machine and told me to get on. From home he drove far out onto the frozen bay then stopped. We got off the machine and looking back from where we had come I was surprised to see that the few small lights I expected to see from Golovin had disappeared. We had only the full moon illuminating the blue night snow and a sky with more stars than I'd ever seen before. 

He explained that the ice/sea sat above the village which is why we could not see it's lights. He showed me the stars and pointed out the Orion constellation and the three stars that make up his belt. In the belt was a star that appeared to twinkle re
d and green. In the arctic night it was easy to see.  He explained that if ever I was lost "out here" that I need to head in the direction of that star. I couldn't imagine my ever being "out there" by myself but I was grateful for his taking the time to teach me an important survival skill. He seemed quite serious and this trip was not a joy ride. We went back home.

As it turned out, I would, weeks later, find myself in a situation where I needed to know how to get back to Golovin from the middle of the frozen bay one night in zero degree temps.

(to be continued) copyright Tamara Ann Burgh, all rights reserved

The sea beginning its freeze

 

Frozen Bering Sea

My Eskimo Family 65 (continued from December 27)

To start reading from the beginning, go to May 11, 2008.

I loved the cold and snow when it arrived in Golovin. The freeze and snow cover drastically altered the landscape. It softened and quieted everything -- especially during a heavy snowfall. Somehow the falling snow and subsequent softening of sounds quieted my mind and my fears.

I had managed over the years to live through or mostly ignore my fearful countenance. I assumed I was the only one of my family and friends plagued with the constant companion of fear. It seemed to be a part of my DNA as most of the time it was inexplicably there. I felt its presence most acutely upon awakening in the morning. A slow leisurely wake was never an option for me. The pang of fear met me every morning like an alarm clock I couldn't slam off with my palm or throw against a wall. If I slept in, it was because I was in a dead sleep for eight or nine hours. As soon as I woke up, I got up.

Every morning in Golovin I met Martin downstairs at the kitchen table where he was finishing his second cup of coffee. I suspected he believed my mornings were a girl-y leisurely wake-up to the day. Everyone else had been up and working at least an hour or two. He couldn't and wouldn't know that I became a warrior each morning when I slayed a dragon who lay dead for 24 hours on my pillow.

The snow and freeze changed the way things were done in the store. When the mail plane arrived with fresh produce like eggs and fruit, the three-wheelers were quickly brought into service. It was a mere two-three minute walk to the plane and grocery boxes set on the snow packed ground, but in winter, it was a race against Jack Frost to get the produce from the cold air and ground and to the wood heated store before the precious fresh goods froze. 

Couples from other villages traveled on snow machines hauling sleds. Maggie's store must have been better stocked than other villages as it was no small feat to come so far across tough terrain or frozen waters. It was nothing like a hop in a heated car to a local grocery. Their trips involved extra gas, tarps, ropes and work. Maggie would meet them at the door and while they exchanged greetings and news in Eskimo, she brushed the snow from their parkys with a broom. If the heavy snow melted and saturated their canvas and fur (squirrel) lined parkys it would render their winter protection useless.

On my trip "outside" with Donny months before in the summer, I purchased a down parka from an outfitters store. I expected it to serve me well for my winter stay in the arctic. Maggie, however, replaced the thin commercial ruff (coyote?) around the hood with a six inch wide ruff. Martin explained to me it was a man's style ruff. A woman's ruff has a wolverine ruff on the inside -- against the face -- and a wolf ruff attached to the outside. My new ruff was wolf against the face, no wolverine inner ruff. My wolf ruff was also scrap -- not the long wolf hair across the wolf's back and shoulders. The long hairs draped against the wearer's back when down and stood high in the air when up. Male/Female scrap ruff was lost on me. I was happy with my parka turned parky and wore it proudly and fearless-ly in the falling snow, frigid temperatures to come and a reckless adventure or two. 

(to be continued) copyright Tamara Ann Burgh, all rights reserved

My father's mother with the traditional woman's ruff of wolverine and wolf. She also wears reindeer mukluks and (most likely) wolf mittens that go past the elbows and have some beading around the wrist.