Dang it's COLD

Today the temperature rose to 17 F,  balmy by Galena standards.  In the last two days, 8'' of powder has fallen, and snow-machines (Alaska-speak for snow mobiles) are out full force.    I swept snow off the stairs, and admired the pink and orange glow of the landscape as the sun set.  It was about 2pm.

These days, the sun is out (sort of)  by 11am; it stays pretty close to the horizon, completing it's stunted arc by 3 or so.  To make it even more challenging, in the last week temperatures settled in around -30.  Not windchill.  (We don't need no stinkin' wind to make it cold)   That is dangerously cold, that stings your cheeks almost instantly.  Afraid of breaking my car,  I kept it plugged in and turned it for at least 20 minutes before driving.  If you're wondering what it is to "plug in" a car, it means that you (or a mechanic) add on a battery warmer;  a plug comes out from under the hood, and you connect it to an outdoor outlet. Most cars won't start at lower than -20.   Luis, who is in Argentina right now (100 degrees in the shade ) thinks it's overkill to turn the car on for so long, but I'm not taking any chances.  Things look different at -30.

Yep, you read right.  Luis is currently on the opposite side of the planet with his dad who's had some health issues.  So far, he's missed all the hard core Alaska stuff.  I feel fortunate that our little apartment has kept us dry and warm, that I don't have to worry about feeding the wood stove in the middle of the night or when we're at school.  Our heat runs off of fuel oil.   No frozen pipes for us.  (quick, knock on wood).   Most folks have a wood stove, which is a little too "Bush-y" for me at this point.  Heck, there are people here who've lived in Yurts!  For YEARS!  Good thing no one is giving out prizes for stoicism.   By Galena standards, I'm a downright priss.  (thank god. . .)  I mean,  I know someone whose septic tank is frozen solid -- how, or where, in the world does she. . . ? (honeybucket?  ewww. . .  I can say that because I've lived with one.  Don't ask.)

In my own Bethel upbringing, the gray water from our sink and shower flowed directly to the ground.  You could see the frozen puddle on the ground through the drain pipe;  sometimes it froze and my dad had to get comfortable in the shower stall with a hair dryer.  It took awhile.

We had a disconcerting incident last week when our front door froze shut and we couldn't get out of the house. Maite held the hair dryer and I chipped away at the ice.   I was 45 minutes late for work.  There are probably not many places where you can use an excuse like that when you're late for work.  Since then,  our landlord has ordered new doors, which they'll install when we're in Tucson for Christmas.

With the icy temps, our world so far has been an indoor one.  Lucas took the NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) challenge again this year and spent November writing his 30,000 word novel about a man living in remote Alaska.  We took it one step further and self-published it.  He continues to be the creative tour de force by selling artwork at the Yukon Jamboree.

Amazingly, Galena has a heated swimming pool, and a lively swim team.   Little Maite has become a dedicated swimmer, traveling to Fairbanks with her team and earning a ribbon in the Freestyle. Lucas won his own ribbon at a cross-country meet in Delta this fall.

It amazes me that this remote, tiny arctic town has a considerable sized boarding school.  But maybe this is why parents trust sending their kids here --the harsh environments probably keeps certain shenanigans at bay.  No one runs off. (no roads outta here --where would they go?)  Booze and drugs are much harder for teens to get their hands on.  At these temperatures, not many couples slink off for amorous trysts. (remember, stinging cheeks. . .)

For my part, I'm happy to be part of this endeavor.  I know people from all over the state, like  Little Diomede, closer to Siberia than Alaska, where only helicopters can get to, or Kivalina, the disappearing village.   Mostly, the students are cheerful and pleased to be here.   Academically, many of the students are not on grade level, but most work hard.  Truancy is a non-issue --you can't get away with much at the dorms.  Misbehavior has real consequences.

Some students bristle from the structure, but most accept it, and feel safe. There are always activities, music, dances,  sports, movies.    Last week students performed a musical, a comedy written and directed by the music coordinator here.  The auditorium was packed, and the audience laughed hard!  So fun to see our students up on stage.

How far we are from our December in Argentina!  We sweated through our birthdays and Christmas that year.  Well, we are many things, but tied down we are not.

Luis is meeting us in Tucson for Christmas, which should help him prepare for the 130 degree change of temperature.  Ooooooh, it's going to be a good Christmas!

So from our little home in the arctic to yours, I wish you a very Happy Christmas!   Keep your cheeks warm, the door ice-free, the septic tank fluid, and I'll see you in 2017!

Maite gets a ribbon for swimming.

Tammy shows Lucas how to mush.

Maite and I made a gingerbread house with her 5th grade class.  Happy Birthday to us!

Gas prices-- not for the faint hearted.

Lucas at the wheel of our Hyundai.  The bigger of two markets is behind him.

An 80's cover band, The Pacmen, traveled from Las Vegas to play for a packed auditorium.  It was great fun --I knew ALL the songs!  Maite and friends danced on stage to "Girls Just Want to Have Fun". 

Produce aisle.

Sweetsirs Market.

Popular mode of transport.

Reserved parking.

After the devastating 2013 flood, lots of houses were raised.

Ready for winter.

Tasty coffee, treats, and meals to be had.

Lucas calls this the "Moose House",

John Berchman Catholic Church.

Cozy congregation.  Guitars accompany the hymns.

Always a potluck after the service.

One of the teachers shot and ate a porcupine.  Luis pulled the quills, and gave them to our friend Jaci to make jewelry.

Lucas plays the drums at a dance.  He learned how to play in Metlakatla

KIYU, the local public radio station, voice of the middle Yukon.

Our front door, most mornings.