"these are a few things that I'd like to know"

Hi Lower 48,

It's Saturday night - I know whoooo! get crazy - and I have been sick since Tuesday night. I called in sick Wednesday, Thursday and Friday and I would lying if I said I didn't miss my kids. I haven't been to school since Tuesday and it's almost like I don't know what to do with myself. I've had some kind of 'whooping cough.' Not really, but I cough and cough and cough. On Wednesday I laid on the couch in a daze, only to return to the couch Thursday and Friday. I slept each night from around 10pm - 10am and would take naps periodically throughout the day. I was a mess. I wasn't sick enough to lay in bed and complain of dying all day, but I was too weak to physically do most things. On Thursday a trip to the post office almost proved too challenging. I was getting frustrated and I was getting stir crazy. Fortunately today I'm feeling much better with the occasional cough and feel that by tomorrow I will ready to tackle the eight hours I'm going to have to put into making my room and lessons ready for the week.

Being sick is always a funny thing. People tip toe around you, scared to even talk to you for fear of them catching what you have. My roommate proved awesome though and didn't seem to mind that I could always be found in the same spot 15 hours a day. We talked and laughed as much as possible before she would disappear on the phone for the remainder of the night. Let's face it, when you're life exists on a couch, it simply is not that interesting.

The most surprising thing happened on Thursday night. I was reminded just exactly what friendship is. I have a friend from the WEL program that just might be the most entertaining person I know. Before entertaining though, he's also one of the best friends I have ever known and had/have. He's sent me music to keep me updated and I take so much pride in knowing that he's just an email away. We email often and he has that knack for knowing when I need to read something funny or encouraging or something that simply says May will be here before you know it, so hang in there. I emailed on Thursday letting him know that I hadn't left the couch in a day and before you know it that night we are 'email chatting' (emailing back and forth). I had no voice and looked like death, so my desire to chat out loud was nonexistent. But I laughed. So much. For the first time in what felt like ages. And the next thing you know short video clips were coming from him one after the other. And I laughed some more. And I realized this is what friendship is. It was Thursday night and he was on his winter break from school. It was Thursday night and he was entertaining a sick girl in the tundra 1000s of miles away. It was Thursday night and he was being the friend that I needed at that moment, just like always.

Karen called the next day after reading I was home sick to announce that she was home sick too. Here we are, two sickies catching up on life during the workday. It was perfect.

Looking back I was reminded that while sick and hanging out on the couch my life didn't stop while I was out of it, but it helped remind me what fabulous people I have surrounded myself with. I think of this often out here, and once it crossed my mind: I have such wonderful friends and family, why am I so quick to drop reality and do things that keep me so far away from everyone I care about? But maybe that's why I'm so okay with doing these things, chasing my dreams, living my dreams. I know that I have such wonderful, incredible, inspiring friends that I am comforted knowing no matter where I am, they will always be there for me, waiting, with open arms and great hugs for when I come stumbling back into their so-called-life. I think it's the only way I know that I can take on such great adventures, such huge challenges like this and make it through it.

Ten more weeks until I'm stumbling my way back into each of your lives,

Cristina

We fingerpainted the characters for a play we performed for all the elementary classes in school. Total chaos in the room = one stressful teacher and students having so much fun....

Chad jumped in the trashcan and I just couldn't resist. It was such a fabulous moment :)

Caribou Soup Anyone?

Hi Lower 48,

I looked around my classroom and every student had their workbook out staring back at me. They were holding their pencils and waiting on my instruction. They wanted to know what was next. They wanted to learn.

Last Tuesday was the definition of chaos in my room. Children everywhere, things all over the place, adults in and out (random adults have a huge effect on the balance in a classroom, and we had visitors from the state and district making their presence known). It was nuts. On Wednesday I had had enough and instituted this new discipline and rewards system... and oddly enough... it worked. It's still working. And it's making my life so much easier.

Tonight I came home with enough energy to make caribou soup. What an adventure! It's so delicious though.... I had to cut up tons and tons of meat.... and I rarely even eat meat! You cut it up into bite size pieces and boil it with a few bouillion cubes in water a little above the halfway mark in your huge pot. After about 20 minutes you throw some rice in there. Jenny cut up the vegetables and potatoes, but was later told you can't cut them up bite sized, so we ended up cutting them up again. After awhile, you throw in the large chunks of potato and large chunks of carrot... once they are getting soft you throw in some onion and celery. Toss in an onion mushroom lipton soup mix, canned tomatoes and a can of corn and voila! caribou soup is all yours.

We have enough to feed an army, so all are invited. Since I doubt any of you can take me up on this offer, Jenny and I will just lunch on it every day this week. There's tons of it, and very few things are better then some caribou soup with a little bit of hot sauce mixed in.... I'm getting hungry just thinking about it, so on that note, I should be off to dream!

Oh yeah - the best part about making caribou soup - when you throw the meat in the water before you boil it, it's smart to pick out all of the hair that floats to the top so you're not eating it later. That's how you know your meat is good and fresh!

Here's to the best caribou soup ever (and visitors!),

Cristina

Waiting for My Real Life to Begin

Hi Lower 48,

I'm still recovering from pyro kid and mentally preparing for her return tomorrow after her one day suspension, but alas, life out here will continue and the kids will show up at 9am tomorrow no matter how I feel. I know I'm a good teacher and I know I'll pour my heart into making them the best students they can be.


I often find myself asking this simple question:  Where on earth am I teaching? There is a girl in my class who had a lighter in school and started fires in the back of the classroom. my classroom. and she got a one day suspension. One full day. It scares me that something like this could happen. I would have never thought that as a third grade teacher I needed to worry about fires being started in the back of the classroom...

We had a tournament here this weekend and both our boys and girls teams won it. It was madness. It was super exciting - basketball is life here - and the partying last night was out of control. Snow-go's drove by at all hours last night and people called until 4am. It was not the best night of sleep ever, but I know people were celebrating. The difference is how they celebrate.... drinking until they are knock down, dragged out wasted and can't stand. Whiskey sells for $200 a bottle out here and if you're caught with it you go to jail... so they drink it as fast as they can and get absolutely wasted. I also found out that if the locals find out I have yeast in my apartment (for my breadmaker) they'll break in because it's worth about $150 a package out here - it's the essential ingredient in home brew and they aren't allowed to sell it in our stores... so that was comforting as well. I still think I'm more nervous about pyro child than locals breaking into our apartment for the yeast.

My life out here is challenging and I'm counting down the weeks until school's out, but I'm trying hard to remember to appreciate everyday out here. Last night it started snowing... and it's been way to cold to snow out here recently - and it might have been the prettiest sight ever. It made me remember just how much I love seeing the snowflakes fall gently from the sky. I had a smile on my face the entire four minute walk home.... even though it was still -15. I woke up this morning after a night of restless sleep and the phone constantly ringing in the wee hours because of drunk eskimos calling to invite us to celebrate the victories and realized that I'm no longer waiting for my real life to begin. And that was a good feeling. It's here and I'm living it right now.... even if it is the arctic, -15 and not exactly what I had in mind.

I'll leave you with the lyrics from the song that defined part of my life for so many years...


And you say,"Be still, my love
Open up your heart
Let the light shine in"
Don't you understand?
I already have a plan
I'm waiting for my real life to begin

Here's to all of us living our plan - whatever it is and where ever it takes us,

Cristina

One day to be easy. That's all I ask. And it's asking too much.

I took today off. Yesterday, as I sat in my desk chair and looked around my room I felt so... defeated.

My kids had cried all day. Tears were being shed left and right. The teasing was out of control. I got bit on the hand by an upset student. Bit. by a third grader. It shocked me more than anything. I was in total disbelief that I needed to be aware of biting. Students punched, students hit, students yelled, students teased, students bullied, students slept, students cried and there was me. Standing up there battling to teach all while recognizing that the emotions that spilled over from whatever happened in their little lives this weekend... I realized this battle was over and I was the loser. Defeated.

The room wasn't a mess, but as I looked around I could see where one kid had sat earlier with her head tucked crying because another had just socked her in the stomach. I saw another child in the opposite side of the room picking her nose and rubbing her boogers on other students as they cringe and yell at her to stop. She laughs. I'm appalled. Another child is doing the same thing near her. They both find it funny now. In the middle of the room sits another child who grabs my arm, only for me to realize that she had been sucking on her hand or something because it is soaking wet. When I tell her that's gross and I don't appreciate it, she just looks up and grins.... because in her world it's comical. I wonder when I will ever transform from a babysitter to a teacher. I wonder how I'll get through the rest of the year.... and then another.

Sometimes life out here catches up with me and I have to stop and take a moment. As I sit here, I listen to the silence in my apartment and smile. It's a sound I've missed for so long. When you look out over the frozen tundra, you can see for miles and the world seems so peaceful. When you look into my classroom, the contrast is transparent. I am startled by the stark differences.

In my head, as I tried so desperately to fall asleep last night, all I could think was: For once, I just need one day - one day - that's all I ask - one day to be easy. The reality is that no one's lives out here are easy, not even just for a day. My life is proving to be no different.

Jenny and I walked to the store the other day and I took pictures of life out here. My children sleep in hurting houses that are often unfinished and crowded. I claimed to be taking pictures of the snowdrift, but in actuality I was taking pictures to show you what life is like in this part of 'America.'

Not all houses are like this, but a vast majority are. It's incredible to think about how people live in these houses in such harsh conditions. People are cold, but they survive. Amazing.

I recently wrote in my journal: I don't want life to be 'normal.' I want to feel it. I want it to remind me every so often that yes, this is it and this is worth it. And I do exist. I want to feel the highs and lows. I want to have to hold on tight at some points while feeling my hair blow in the breeze behind me at others. I.want.to.feel.life.

I'm holding on tight right now, but come June when I'm sitting in on the beach at Folly, that breeze will sure feel nice.

To those of you remembering to feel and not just live, I raise my Cherry Coke.

Cristina

Homesick... or not?

Hi Lower 48,

It's 10:00 on a Tuesday night. It feels like a Thursday and all I want right now is a smoothie from the co-op in Brattleboro. It's so funny the things you miss the most when you leave a place. There are times that I think of particular moments, moments that should mean nothing but for some reason mean something only to me, that make me miss someone or something so much it hurts. I've been doing that a lot lately - miss someone or something. I often long to hear the voice of a friend, for some sort of food, or just the idea of takeout in general. Life is exhausting and then the thought of coming home and cooking at times is beyond overwhelming... until you remember the 7 dollar a box pricetag that comes along with the simplicity of eating cereal. And the fact that your milk just came out of a box. Yum.....

I often get asked why I don't blog more, and I think the honest answer is that so many of the things I learn about or do out here I don't want to tell you. I miss my Lower 48 life more than anyone can imagine, but if I tell you what happens out here, you'll ask me to come home - and I'm not ready to do that yet. If I tell you that I get homesick, you'll say we're here, come back and I'm afraid you'll quit including me in your life. I love those random phone calls out of the blue that let me know I'm still a part of your life, even though I'm 1000s of miles away. I enjoy reading, and laughing, from all the emails people send or facebook messages or just a simple wall post that let's me know that I'm still a part of your life. I'm scared that if I post too much, or let you really know just how much I think about life down there, you'll stop for fear of making me homesick. And I don't want it to stop. 

That's probably been one of the most surprising things throughout all of this. When I first moved out here, I figured people would email and ask me questions and call and such, but people have still kept it up. It let's me know I have some pretty amazing friends (my family just has to I guess.... ha! I jokes!). So... what do you want to know?

Life this week has been tough. One of my kid's parents just got back from jail. It turns out she got super drunk and intentionally hit a high schooler with her snow-go. Another one of my kid's parent's is getting out of jail. Most of my kids have a parent or family in jail. I often catch them drawing them pictures or making something for them in class. What do I do then? Do I take it and tell them to focus/concentrate on what I'm teaching, or do I let them continue not paying attention? Unlike most teachers, I struggle with the normal teaching questions: Am I teaching this lesson in an effective way? What are my students learning? and the other questions: How much drinking was in the village last night? Is it the 2nd or the 16th? I know a lot of drinking will be going on after those two days because the parents will be getting paid. How much sleep did this child get last night? Should I let the child sleep on the floor for another twenty minutes or try to wake them up now? Are they acting like this because they are mad at me or mad at something else? 

I ask at least one child everyday if there are things going on at home that they are bringing into the classroom. The answer is always the same. This question always leaves me realizing that most of these kids have experienced more in their eight short years of living than I will in all of my life. I realize that I'm grateful for my childhood and my family who let me sleep  continuously uninterrupted throughout the night, who got me to bed at a reasonable hour, the mom who helped me with my homework, the parents who made sure I ate my veggies and had a decent lunch, the family who sent me to school with breakfast every morning already in my belly, the family who supported my softball, bowling, girl scout, gymnastics, dance and basketball adventures. The family who loved me unconditionally and worked hard to make sure that  I knew it.

Growing up, I thought that this type of childhood was 'normal' and 'expected.' I now realize that I was fortunate and loved. And for that, I'm beyond grateful. 

My kids will stay up into the wee hours of the night listening to their parents drink in the room next door while I will sleep peacefully in my bed. I will wake up eager to help them learn about plot and setting, while they will fight me tooth and nail with the overwhelming desire to sleep. We have spent all year together, and still every morning it is the same. And honestly, right now, I couldn't imagine it any other way. I think that if I didn't have to jump and dance and laugh and sing and make a complete fool of myself in the morning just to make sure their heads are up and their ears are listening, I would not feel like half the teacher I am capable of being. I will go, and I will do it everyday because deep down inside of me, I love this job and the everyday challenges almost as much as I love these kids.

Cristina

Here's another picture from adventures in Columbia with Karen. It was good times. 

My kids got their seashells. I will have to blog about it. It was awesome I must say.

back to the land of ice

Dear Lower 48,

A snow-go just drove past, reminding me that I will no longer hear the sounds of cars and trucks for over four months. I will no longer be able to get into my cold, unheated car and drive to Target to grab something that I need, drive to Sandhills and search for something pretty to wear or drive to a happy hour to share stories of our life with friends. I am back in the tundra. I am back in the land of the frozen, where I must put on gloves, a ski mask, a fur hat, a parka, ski pants and arctic boots to simply walk outside. And I realize now that I missed this place.

Life out here is hard. At times, it feels like I am so reliant on other people. Need more vitamins? Mom and Dad ship them out. Want something special for the kiddies? Mom and Dad ship it out. Running out of shampoo? Mom and Dad ship it out. Starving and want to head over to Moe's for a burrito? Not an option. Sick of soup and want to eat something tasty and delicious instead? Not an option - don't have the ingredients and usually don't have the energy to do it. And yet I love it.

While I was home, I felt like a slave to my credit card and cell phone. I checked my cell way too often and felt like my credit card was being swiped every 15 minutes. Here life is hard, but it's so much more simple. I am finally considered stylish now that I have a Clemson hoodie to wear to school. Seriously. hoodies are the regular choice of clothing. For funerals, people put on their cleanest ones... and I'm not even kidding. While it's easy to 'let yourself go' out here, it's also a great reminder that so many things that one thinks they 'need' in life, are really not necessary. What is necessary out here is a good parka, warm boots, good gloves, a hat - not the newest high heeled boots, Coach purse or Dolce and Gabana sunglasses. It is a good perspective check for me. Instead of spending money on a new wardrobe for the arctic while home, I instead went out to eat a lot, went for drinks way too often and in turn laughed way too hard with good friends. Even though the only thing that followed me back here were the calories, I still have so many memories that will keep my head high while I struggle to find the beauty in the breakdown out here.

Jenny and I spend a lot of time talking about if we're coming back next year. It's kind of funny, we're kind of like a traveling couple without the 'benefits' of being a couple! We joke about that a lot, and I am so happy to have her here. It was such a comforting feeling as I felt my heart rate rapidly increase getting on the plane to Kotz from Anchorage knowing that she would be there in the morning. I had a moment, as Jack (our friend in Koz), Jenny and I shared stories about last semester together, of knowing that this was one of the reasons why I was back. I also had that moment as I sat down on the plane to Kotz and saw all of the eskimo kids on board. Never have I missed my kids so much as I did at that moment. It was at that moment that I realized that while sitting on the plane was not exactly where I wanted to be, it was exactly where I was supposed to be. Sometimes life presents us with challenges we're unsure of, and I'm grateful it gives us glimpses of reality to remind us that we're doing the right thing.

Four months isn't that long I keep telling myself, but in the four months, someone I know will get engaged, someone will have a baby and someone will probably get married. All I will have done is completed my first year of teaching. Is that good enough? I struggle with all the things I miss out on being up here. I struggle with the knowledge that while everyone's life is progressing forward, all that is advancing out here is my teaching ability. The thought of teaching somewhere else though does not excite me as much as it does out here, so yet I'm conflicted. What does one do when everyone else's life is moving forward, while yours is essentially remaining the same everyday? Do you hold onto the experiences you are gathering now and hope for something big, or do you cave into the norms and luxuries of society even if it's before you're ready? I think I have until May to figure it out....

Cristina

In the Anchorage airport, there were polar bears. Real ones. Not alive of course, but I still admired them for all of their beauty and significance. I also found a shirt with a polar bear looking stranded standing on a tiny piece of melting ice. Below the box he's in it says "Global Warming Sucks. Alaska." I.love.it.

No blog post about coming back would be complete without a big haired picture from New Year's Eve. Here's Clayton and me getting ready for the big 2010 moment....

this was no love lockdown

Today I held three students in arms as others rested their heads on my legs. And then there were the ones who didn't want to be held, but simply needed to know that I was nearby. Almost all were crying. Everyone of them was turning to another telling them they were scared.

And I felt completely helpless.

Just before noon today a calm voice came over the loudspeaker to announce that we were on lockdown so to please move all children away from the windows and doors. We've been on a 'lockdown' before - not an official one, but simply the one where the teacher goes and locks their door. I quickly moved students out of sight and opened my door to lock to be informed that we were on an official lockdown and this was serious stuff. I locked my doors, cut off my light and told all students to as quickly and quietly as possible move to the corner of the room. They must have been able to sense the absolute fear in my words as I said this because not one protested. We sat in a dark corner for almost an hour, most of us too scared to say anything. Someone finally came in after about twenty minutes to tell us that there is a dangerous man who is armed possibly in the building and the troopers are here to search and protect us. We were later escorted to a larger room where most of elementary had congregated. At one point, the troopers yelled the guy's name and then blasted into the room, only to scare the children to pieces with their massive weapons and strong voices. They asked if we were safe and then continued on their search.

Thankfully the guy (who I later learned is only 16 or 17, so boy really) was not in the building and we were able to return to our room after about two hours of sitting in a dark, silent room listening to small voices and quiet sobs. I rewarded the children (and embraced my exhaustion) with a movie - something I rarely do - and due to lack of gym, they were beyond antsy. We were dismissed at 3:35 - just five minutes after our usual time, but I felt like it was 9:00. That's how exhausting and stressful spending two quiet hours with 17 eight and nine year olds can be.

I later learned this boy raped someone in a village over a couple days ago and has been on the move ever since. He has threatened to kill any police officer he sees, so the federal troops are here. They had reason to believe he was in the school building, and that is why we were on lockdown. It.was.scary.

Through every tear that landed on my shoulder and every whisper of my name, I realized that I love my children more than words can describe. I have never been so concerned for someone else's safety as I was today. The moment the words were uttered: this is a real lockdown, get your kids into the corner now, my heart dropped and I was scared. I was scared because at that instance I could not guarantee a safe classroom for my kids - we all were in danger. Seventeen sets of eyes peered back at me for guidance and resolution, and all I could offer were back rubs and a "We're in this together" mentality. I was so scared that something, anything, was going to happen to them.

I also felt so helpless. I had no answers. I didn't even know where to begin in consoling them. All I could do was smile and hope for the best. Never have I felt so responsible while also feeling so helpless. All these eyes, and yet there I was.... helpless against an armed man. At one point I even uttered the words, "I don't know. I'm scared too." While I know I should have never said this, I do believe that the kids then understood that we were all in this together, and I would do everything in my power to protect them. For a few hours today, I saw what each child in my classroom was capable of. I saw children step up as leaders. I saw children who never talk to each other in class hold each other and tell them it's going to be alright. For the first time ever, I saw more love than imaginable and little fear in each of their eyes.

I am home now and I hear voices outside my window. I jump. I cringe. I am nervous. The fear has set in and it will take awhile to leave. The honest truth is that if something happens out here to you, you most likely die. There are no hospitals, no doctors or emergency rooms. And this makes me nervous. Nervous for me, nervous for my roommate and friends and nervous for my children and their families. This boy is dangerous and could be anywhere by now. No one knows. Not even the feds.

I have never been so ready to get on a plane and get out of here, but I need to know that each of my kids are safe - and so I stay. I have one more week until I'm in Kotzebue and one week and two days until I'm standing in the airport terminal hugging my family. I am so ready for that moment to come. I'll have my Rainbows packed just for that special occasion.

So here's to loving and living so passionately your heart hurts after a day's work,

Cristina

Update: It's now Friday and he is still on the loose. It turns out that he was actually born in 1984, not 1993, but that's still so young. He could be in any of the three villages, but rumors are flying everywhere. We have school today from 10:00 - 1:30, but barely any kids are here. People don't know where he is - and there's a lot of hostility against the troopers (the feds have flown up from Anchorage to find this guy because he puts a new definition to the word dangerous), so anyone could be harboring him they say.

Since the feds are in town and he has threatened to kill them all, anyone white is especially in danger. Since he is a rapist, my roommate and I are in even more danger. Our principal and assistant principal keep checking in on us and remind us that we're really not allowed to go anywhere within the village. It's not a soothing feeling, but a real one to say the least.

I hope they find this guy soon. I'm out of eight dollar cereal (Honey Bunches of Oats) and need to go to the Post Office.... but I'm pretty sure that everything in town is closed due to these events.

Let's just hope they get this guy and no one gets hurt or killed. He could be anywhere. The tundra is big and vast, and zero degree temperatures at night is not cold to an eskimo.

See! They really are the cutest when they're not being little devil children :) !

(We were doing stuff for Halloween. I haven't taken pictures in awhile....)

The guy supposedly made a direct threat against the school and administrators. How could you hurt these kids?!