Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Thanks for the Advice

As my Alaskan adventure gets closer and closer, I sometimes feel like I've been having the exact same conversation for the past several months. People you haven't talked to in years want to hear all the details about the village, and everyone is wondering why in the world you picked to teach in Alaska. The thing is, I can't really put into words why I chose to move to Alaska, so I usually just end up explaining some of the things I know people will understand. I get paid more, I want an adventure, I want a challenge.

The real reason is a combination of all these things and more. When I landed in Anchorage the first time, I looked out the window of the plane and was stunned by how breathtakingly gorgeous the landscape was. My pictures on facebook that my friends and family have been completely floored by do not even come close to doing justice to the real thing. I had this feeling of awe, and wondered why, when presented with the option to wake up every morning in a place that was so awe-inspiring, everyone didn't choose to come live here. Granted, the village will be a different kind of landscape than the mountains around Anchorage, but I've always loved the rugged look of places that refuse to be spoiled by humans.




The second thing that everyone wants to know immediately is how long I have to stay. I think everyone must be concerned that I've signed away my soul in some unbreakable ten year contract and will have to become a fugitive to break it. Not the case, guys. Sorry to disappoint you. I signed a one-year contract to teach third and fourth grade at Meade River School in Atqasuk. After that first year, I can choose to stay for longer, and I hope I do. I hope that I fall in love with bush Alaska and want to teach there for several years. Eventually, I know I won't want to stay out in the bush and will likely want to move back to the road system, or the lower 48. The thing is, living in bush Alaska is so vastly different than anywhere else I've lived that I really have no idea how I will feel about it. Yes, it's going to be cold. Yes, it's going to be dark. But I feel like you can't truly know how this will affect you until you've lived through an Alaskan winter.

Which brings me to the third thing that everyone wants to know, am I ready? Honestly, I have no idea. No, I haven't packed my final suitcase or sent my final boxes of belongings. I still am working on doing all of that. But what I really think people are curious about is if I'm prepared mentally. I don't know. How does someone who lived in South Carolina for the past twelve years mentally prepare for life above the arctic circle? I'm not sure it's possible. It's not like I have been blacking out my apartment and practicing for what life will be like in the dark. Or turning the thermostat down as far as it can go to simulate the winter temperatures. (Can an apartment thermostat even get cold enough to simulate -70? Probably not.) In my opinion, life above the arctic circle isn't something you can be ready for before you actually go there and live it. You can do all you want, and it's good to think about ways to keep yourself busy and active, but how do you really know what it will be like and how you will react until you live it? You can't. So how about you ask me again in a year if I'm prepared for life in bush Alaska. I should be able to accurately let you know then. Though you'll probably be able to tell based on my decision to stay another year or run back to the lower 48.

If you want some friendly (or completely unwanted) advice, just tell your friends, family, and sometimes random policemen and strangers that you are moving to Alaska. Everyone has some nugget of wisdom to share, even those people who have never been to Alaska.

Here are my top ten nuggets of wisdom:
  1. It's cold; you know that, right?
  2. Don't come back married
  3. Try not to be eaten by a polar bear
  4. Get some "happy lights"
  5. Eat vegetables and fruits; you don't want scurvy
  6. You should learn to shoot a crossbow
  7. If you try Eskimo ice cream, don't start with a large bite (Eskimo ice cream is whale blubber and fruit.)
  8. Make sure you DO come back
  9. All you're going to be able to do is pray. You're going to be really close to God.
  10. I'm going to need snapchats of you putting on each layer of your arctic gear every day. Because they'll be funny.

Countdown to leaving: 10 days

No comments:

Post a Comment