Anything Could Happen.

Wind, Earth, Water, Fire, Heart.

 

At the end of the workday when you’ve had your share of listening to music and talking, nothing feels better than coming home to your radio companions and friends for a nice get-together of…listening to music and talking. I feel so blessed to have been placed among the four awesome individuals I share the Volunteer House with. Everyone brings something to the table that makes me look forward to our coming adventures together with each new experience that passes by us.

Life at the Volunteer House goes from manic to incredibly zen. Many hours are spent indulging in good conversation, KNOM playing quietly in the background, sipping whatever delicious tea that Eva’s oh-so-generous grandmother has shipped to us. Many hours are also spent participating in what we call our Nome Dance Party. It’s just like any dance party, except we bust moves in our bulky Bunny Boots. It isn’t easy, but it’s a whole lot of fun as well as a great strength training routine for our legs. At this rate we ought have the shapeliest legs this side of Nome come winter.

Eva and Margaret tell me my boots don't fit them.  I don't think they're trying hard enough.

 

 

Eva: My grandma sent us tea!
Josh: Gee Golly!

 

Fun hasn’t been all about calorie burning however. The calories I have consumed in this past month living in our community housing have been some of the most adventurous and delicious I’ve encountered in a very long time. Lucs makes pita bread that is so good it’ll make you cry. Daynee’s culinary creations range from the exotic to the whimsical with her most recent creation being something called Unicorn Poop Cookies. They’re more delicious than they sound – trust me. Yet has anyone at the Volunteer House taken their turn at the stove without producing items have fallen short of tasty.

Daynee making Unicorn Poop.

 

The most exciting part about all of this fellowship we are experiencing is that there is so much more to come just lingering on the horizon. Anything could happen. I wholeheartedly plan to keep eating well, laughing lots, and dancing the night away with the spattering of wonderful, talented people this experience has gifted me.

Lucas, some guy, Eva, Daynee, and Margaret.

*As seen on the KNOM Volunteer Blog

It Was the Best of Times, It Was the Pulpiest of Times.

I’ve had a torrid love affair with berry picking all of my life. Like any good story of a torrid nature, it starts in my early childhood.

My parents still tell stories dating back to my early 90’s childhood concerning my love for berries. Once my mother demonstrated that these colorful objects could be picked from something leafy and green and placed right in one’s mouth, I was completely engaged – which is saying a lot for a child of single digit years. On family camping trips I would ravenously consume blackberries, blueberries, raspberries, strange bitter purple berries, awful red berries, gritty grey berries…and the list goes on. In fact my love for berry picking was so intense that I developed no discerning eye for a particular berry, shoving in whatever I could scavenge at such a rate that I would come close to consuming twigs and leaves along with my valued berry prize.

At some point in my berry history, I’m guessing around my moody years of adolescence, my love of picking able to pick something right out of nature and consume it faded. Berry picking was no longer a loved pastime associated with family vacations and gluttony. Instead all it meant to me was baking in the 108-degree sun in a dusty field for the equivalent of a palm full of pulpy, stain creating juice. Remind you however, I was young and moody, so I found most things as enthralling as I found pulp and berry stains.

Berry picking in this region however seems to be a big part of life in the summertime. For the past three weeks I’ve heard of folks going out to pick blueberries and salmon berries (a berry I was ignorant of until recent) and then heard tales of their uses from jam, to scones, to pancakes. While delicious creations such as those do entice me, I must admit that when I was asked to go berry picking on the tundra the other day, I felt the urge to channel my inner berry disdaining adolescent.

I’m happy to tell you that this story has a happy ending. As simple as it may seem, blueberry picking with members of the KNOM staff and fellow volunteers has been the most Alaskan experience I’ve had in my short tenure here. Everything about the hour and a half spent kneeled down amongst the miniature sized jungle that is tundra vegetation was immensely zen and soul-easing. The rolling hills, the sound of wind making its way across the tundra, and the occasional call of a raven or seagull paired with the company of new friends made for a wonderful time. To put it gently, the berry lover in my got his groove back.

It is the small wonders in life that truly add flavor…and Nome is a city ripe with small wonders. Small wonders and sweet, sweet berries.

The tundra is a miniature jungle!

Laura's dogs can sniff out all of the best berry patches.

Eva shows off her harvest.

Daynee didn't have many berries.

Maybe this is why.

A great day for man and berrykind alike.

*As seen on the KNOM Volunteer Blog



Procurement.

Since there is no such thing as Craigslist for Nome, the townsfolk use something called Nome Announce which sends every single want/for sale/announcement ad straight to your inbox. Of the 2000+ emails I've gotten so far, this is certainly one of my favorites.

Berry Dredge.

At our weekly staff meeting each of us gets spotlighted for any updates we have about work.  I always start mine off by saying "Things are super great".  Then that sentiment is usually followed by "That's all".  As the whirlwind of training has come to an end (more or less - I supposed you never really stop training altogether) I find myself really diving into my work and finding a lot of enjoyment in it.  Not only are all the people I work with wonderful, but the work itself provides a lot of satisfaction. 

As a kid I used to make mixtapes to play to the invisible audience in my room.  It seems now that such a practice was less childhood folly, and moreso off site job training.  The fact that my day consists of producing music shows, screening brand new albums, and, to put it simply, say words on the radio is thrilling.  It was hard to grasp how I could possibly ever work with music as a kid seeing as how I knew I likely wouldn't go to college for it plus I lacked any background in the subject.  Somehow here I am.  I can't say that I plan to make music shows for the rest of my life, but it feels great to live out this dream even if it is just for a little while.

Of course there is more to my day-to-day than wearing headphones.  Nome life thusfar has been an adventure.  With the arrival of fellow KNOM service members I've found myself taking hikes up Anvil Mountain, blueberry picking on the tundra until my hands are numb from cold, and exploring abandoned gold dredges.  I had planned on doing a post for each of these experiences but am experiencing the second month blog slump that I usually do.  Maybe September will be better.  Until then, enjoy these photos!

The abandoned dredge.  You see the flume in the far left?  We climbed all the way to the top of it!

Not OSHA approved.

Climbing up the tower...for just a little ways.

Eva at the controls.

Laura's dogs can smell out the best berry patches!

The yield.

Daynee and Eva.

The tundra is a miniature jungle!