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| Taken at 11 PM (while writing this blog) |
It is 11 PM in Emmonak, and sleep
seems to be escaping me again. The sun refuses to admit that it is
bedtime, and so do the playing and screaming children just outside
the house. I have yet to get used to the ever growing daylight and I
am fooled on a daily basis when I look at the clock, only to find
that it is several hours later than I had realized. Mornings are
about the same as what I am used to, but these “latetime” hours
are running a muck on my idea of nighttime, and are leaving me with
circadian rhythm akin to a newly born giraffe trying to ice skate.
If it were summer, or at least the
weekend, the noise and the light wouldn't be so bothersome. However,
Marta has to wake up early for school in the morning in order to get
lesson plans ready for the day, and there are still snow machines
cruising around relentlessly, sounding as if there were chain saws on
wheels, cutting down all of the rainforest, not more than twenty feet
from our bedroom window. From the perspective of only hearing the
above mentioned spectacle indoors, I have determined that there must
be a direct correlation between the loudness and frequency at which
one revs their engine, to the amount of toughness and size of
genitalia that one possesses. If not, then I have no clue as to what
could warrant such behavior.
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| The natives had many laughs at our expense on this one. |
On a more positive note, the last few
weeks have been moving on rapidly as our return home grows nearer. In
addition to being able to come home soon, the increased sunlight has
contributed to a steady rise in both of our moods. Also, during the
last several weekends we have had the pleasure of having friends from
neighboring schools come and stay with us. These visits have provided
lots of entertainment and some much needed laughs. We also got to
travel to Alukanuk, a village about twenty minutes away by snow
machine, via cargo sled attached to snow machine and got to stay the night somewhere other than here. For me
it was the first time out of Emo since Christmas.
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| Around town |
Having a snow machine, like some of
the teachers from the other villages, would have been a nice luxury,
and possibly would have made the experience here more positive, but
the cost and the hassle may not have been worth it. Just two days ago
our friend Brittany came to stay the night and her snow machine was
stolen right in front of our house. Due to a few serendipitous events
and the small size of the village, we were able to track it down,
where it was left abandon and most amazingly unharmed. We were able
to start it up with relatively little effort and had just enough gas
to make it to the tank farm (gas station). From there she was able to
make it home with no more trouble. The worst part was that she had only got the thing a week ago and it already got stolen! Aparently it has become some big thing for a few of the "cool" kids to do for fun. There has been about ten snow machines stolen within only the last week or two.
The sun is finally going down and I
don't hear any more snow balls hitting the house so I am going to try
and get some sleep. We are both very excited to come home in less
than a month now, and can't wait to see every one that we have been
away from.
