Into the light

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.

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.

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.