A Warm Hello.

Bethel is known for its taxi services.  In fact, the city is estimated to have one cab for every 84 individuals.
Yet I stood in the blowing snow on Thursday morning outside of the Bethel airport and could not for the life of me figure out how the Taxi system worked in Bethel.  Despite my freezing extremities and flight fatigue, I couldn’t help but laugh at myself.
My village trip to Bethel was certainly a stand-out experience among my months as a KNOM volunteer.  The whole setup was not only fulfilling on a personal level but was in addition to that, strangely off beat from the rest of my time as a volunteer.  First off, to call my experience a village trip isn’t entirely correct.  Afterall Bethel, Alaska is composed of a population that more than doubles that of Nome.  You’ll find within its borders a nationally known chain restaurant, hardware stores, paved roads, and even a stoplight intersection if you really look for it.  Not unlike a normally ordained KNOM village trip, I was there for a very important mission – to collect Native Drum & Dance music from the annual Cama-i festival.

(Cama-i – pronounced chum-eye.  A word meaning, “A Warm Hello”.)

Native Alaskan music is a very important part of KNOM’s daily programming.  On my show alone you can hear several Native Songs from the like of Hooper Bay, St. Lawrence Island, Unalakleet and many more paired back to back with the rest of our musical catalog.  I feel it is so important to feature Native songs in this way.  At the end of the day, I hope a very special message comes across with these songs.  I want people to know how important this music is, how much life and knowledge they hold.  They should be treated with respect while simultaneously being enjoyed as any other kind of music even if it isn’t embraced by the masses and were never part of the charting music world.  The vibrancy they hold can’t be measured on any sales chart.
By the end of the third day of the festival I had collected over 100 Native Drum and Dance songs ranging anywhere from 45 second pieces to 15 minute musical sets.  As I write I am organizing and burning all of this music to cd so that it can be shared with Western Alaska for years to come.  Just another awesome week as Music Director.

Unicorns.

By the time I get around to publishing this post, our humble Volunteer Blog should be filling with musings, photos, and excitement concerning Iditarod.  While it’s true that this sled dog race has, for good reason, consumed our lives as we each play integral parts in reporting the race, I believe it is important to remember what really matters about day-to-day life as a KNOM Volunteer.
Unicorns.
I’m not joshing you, pulling your leg, or just messing with your perceptions of what it means to be a KNOM Volunteer as a large part of my experience here has indeed revolved around these majestic creatures.  Should you the reader be one of the lucky individuals who is accepted for a year of service in whimsical Nome, Alaska, unicorns might just end up meaning something special to you as well.

Some of the earliest remnants of unicorn paraphernalia within the volunteer house include these mysterious room markers carbon dated back to August of 2012.

I wish I could trace for you the history of unicorns within the V-House but, like most wonderful and magical things, the origin of the story is blurry.  What I do know is that the birth of this volunteer based meme springs from a shared wish by all of us volunteers to maintain a since of whimsy and wonderment within our walls.
Now I feel I need to send a special signal to the up and coming KNOM volunteers.  First off, do whatever you can to embrace whimsy.  You’ll find that adopting a fantastical interest serves you well in an offbeat community such as Nome and a little magic in your day to day life can take you far in the dark, cold days of winter.  Secondly, not unlike an archeological dig site, I hope that somehow the unicorn friends I have helped to uncover remain as a presence within the house.  Sure, you don’t have to buy your own unicorn masks, bake unicorn cookies, or even keep our copy of the DVD The Last Unicorn.  What I feel you should do however, is always keep a spirit of something lighthearted and enchanting within your hearts.  If that spirit happens to be in the shape of a unicorn, then more power to you.

I’ll leave you with this thought with some of my favorite unicorn photos from the past few months.  Enjoy!

In studio A.

Bringing Whimsy to The Late Afternoon Show.

Sub-Arctic Whimsy.

Never leave home without one.

Just tanking up the station car.

Attack! Photo originally by David Dodman.

Bringing Eva cookies!

Makeshift alicorn.

Halloween or just another evening?

The CommUnicorn.

Unicorns <3 Rats.

Hanging at the Schmidt’s House.

At Worst.

AmeriJosh.

At my best, I am a strong-willed confident individual who has been trained to fight wildfires, hike through streams, crawl alone through culverts and pipes as I machete through vines and branches, and keep my cool working in some of the most crowded, hot, and rude places one can imagine.
At my worst, I am someone who can be paralyzed by the fear that simply comes with answering the telephone at work. Sometimes the things that stop me in my tracks are as small of tasks as one can imagine, in other, often more rare times, the things that do scare are things that rightly should. As Iditarod begins to rear its head around the corner, I often feel myself feeling small and disconnected in a job that is, more than anything, about being heard and in tune with thousands of listeners. In order to deal with what I face in the present, and wrap my head around what is left to encounter, I look behind me. Not unlike my academic pursuits and the service opportunities with AmeriCorps that I tackled before arriving in Nome, my time here is all about the free fall. I believe in my heart that, if you have the opportunity, you should spend as much of your time free falling in your young life. Dive in even if you can’t see the bottom. Travel to places unseen, attempt tasks far above your skill set, and most importantly, challenge yourself to become uncomfortable.
In this moment, the last part of that goal is certainly being accomplished. While I acknowledge that Iditarod is a time of excitement and communities coming together, the fear of the time frame ahead of me closely reflects my fear of picking up the telephone and knowing a stranger is at the other end.  How will my actions steer events?  How will I be perceived?  Will people like me?  It may seem silly to fret so over a race, but when I’m in the moment, Iditarod can feel like the biggest thing in my life.  In my stress, I lose the sense of whimsy I hold dear, and I hold back in my interactions with others.

Tue and I.

When I’m at my worst, people push me to my best here at KNOM. I’m not the type to exaggerate other people’s kind actions, if anything, I tend to be too dismissive of the kind actions I see people perform. I can’t ignore the uplifting feeling I get when I am around everyone at the station recently. For that reason, I’d like to take my blog time today to thank everyone who has helped me realize at the end of the day, that they are here for me.
Should you ever find yourself on 3rd Street in Nome, stop by the station. You don’t have to be particularly in tune with your sensitive side to feel the love that comes from inside. I find it difficult to describe this love, and in my less proud moments I choose to dismiss the notion of it completely, but what I do know about it is that it doesn’t judge, it doesn’t discriminate, and it offers itself at no cost. People can attach religious labels, descriptors of our programming, or any array of adjectives to it – but I believe in the end, the love I feel when I am among those here at the station transcends all of it. I’m not the most sentimental guy in the world, but I trust myself when I say that I feel it every day when I walk through the doors, when I turn on my radio, and when I speak with Western Alaska. It’s very real. Everyday it is something that I carry in my heart.
If I made a list of everyone who at some point, often daily, lifted me up, carried me through, or simply showed interest in my well being, I could name everyone I work with and so many very special people beyond the walls of KNOM. I’m afraid that saying thank you to all is what I have to give in this format. You make all of the good, the bad, the exciting, and the mundane worth it. You make me feel the love.
At worst, I am in the good hands.

A Cheechako’s Guide To Looking Cool

Milan, New York, Paris, Nome – all capitals of fashion in the consumer driven world we live in.  With Nome’s meager population soon about to burst with tourists and photographers from all over the world who will be attending Iditarod, I thought I’d use my blog power to prepare any of you who might not understand the intricacies of the Alaskan fashion scene.  I want you to come to Iditarod and shine like a beautiful star – not make a wardrobe’s worth of faux pas. That’s something only a cheechako would do.  Let’s get real people.

Wearing a owl hat down the runway? Sassy! I like it!

HABERDASHERY:
Always wear a hat.  It’s not just the advice your mom would give you as you’d run outside on a cold winter’s day as a child.  A hat can be a fashion lifesaver.  Maybe your snow pants are giving you holster hips. The answer? Distract with a hat.  Your jacket is an unfortunate pea-soup green?  Dazzle the masses with your headgear.  Hats are the new black this season in Nome and the more avant-garde, the better.



FACETIME:

Work that face girl!

When interacting with the Nome paparazzi, your face is your only real selling point.  Worried about cramming this year’s thighs into last year’s jeans?  You’re cool, bro.  Feeling nervous about that full back tattoo of a dolphin you got in college?  Don’t – no one is going to get a peek at as much as a dorsal fin.  You see, when you’re bundled up from pinky toe to chin, your face is the only proof that there is indeed a human dwelling underneath the layers of cotton, nylon, and if you’re lucky, maybe even some fancy microfiber.
There are several pitfalls to living the face-only fashion lifestyle however.  Runny nose?  Yeah, everyone can see you do the mitten-wipe.    Chapped lips?  You need to take care of that kind of stuff.  You only get one first impression with those noses, eyes, and lips.  Make it a good one.

Townies or Modeling’s next big thing? You tell me.

BOOTS IN BULK:
When you’re packing your bags for the Nome fashion experience, don’t even look at those high heels delicately balanced on the top rack of your shelf.  And guys, the only cold those penny loafers should experience in their lifetime is the air waiting outside in the garbage bin.  If you’re no jive-turkey, this winter you’ll be in boots.  No, I’m not talking about some discount Ugg-style foot-warmers or chunky sneakers.  I’m talking BOOTS people.  The bigger, the more gnarled, and the heavier, the better.  If your feet aren’t tired and sweating, you don’t deserve to be among Nome’s fashion elite.


I want to see you bring your A game to Nome come March.  If you have any fashion questions please feel free to ask an expert in the comment section below.  Here’s a few more freebies for you in the meantime:

Dark jackets are out – neons are in.

Sunglass are not only a sight saving tool, but can add a bit of edginess to your facetime.

Go from Average Alaskan to Sub-Artic Sweeheart with a kicky scarf!

Sunglasses, a hat, and a collected demeanor will get you anywhere.

Ditch the eyeliner – get frosty!

Never show too much skin!

Whimsical Weather.

Pure, unadulterated happiness right here.

I'm just going to come out and say it.
Last week I launched a giant weather balloon miles into the sky and it was one of the coolest experiences of my life.  There.  Now that I have it off my chest,  I can begin to go into a little more detail about the weather adventure us volunteers had last week.

When a friend at the National Weather Service called the station last week during my Late Afternoon Show, we volunteers were invited to come out and launch a weather balloon sometime in the future.  At the risk of sounding way too eager, I called him back the very next morning and made us an appointment to come out that very day for a launch.  I mean, when you are given the chance to fill up a balloon the size of elephant's head, you should just go for it.   Not only will this experience be one of the few times you get to maneuver enough helium to make you feel like you're going to lift right up into the air a 'la some Banksy art piece, it's also the chance to snag a peek at just how weather information is received.   Afterall, weather is a big part of KNOM's programming.  No one wants to be out kayaking during a small craft advisory, and a sudden winter storm could put more than an uncomfortable damper on a hike.  Western Alaska depends on accurate weather forecasts and current conditions to live safely and productively in this very unique part of the world.
Before heading out with the Weather Service guys, I wasn't exactly sure what a weather balloon was.  I figured that thinking it was a giant balloon that acted as a conveyance for gathering weather information seemed way to simple.  I was expecting some kind of only slight balloon-esque contraption complete with propellers, antennae, and possibly some kind of futuristic looking doppler radar.  Wrong.  It's just a balloon with what looks like a take-out box of sesame chicken attached by a string.  Okay, I'm probably under emphasizing the technology behind all of this, nonetheless, the launch was a simple process free of the propeller and doppler gadgetry I was expecting.
At the end of the day, I was just excited to be holding a giant balloon.  I love it when whimsy meets practicality.

Liftoff!

 

 

 

 

*Thanks to Margaret for being a wonderful photographer!

Outsiders In Nome.

It was a strange feeling being in the shoes of the person who acts as a tour guide of Nome.  After all, it wasn’t that long ago that former volunteer, Matt, was walking me down the streets of Nome showing me the Subway, post office, and Nome’s unofficial mascot, Velvet Eyes the pet reindeer.    However, when some friends from my days in AmeriCorps NCCC came to visit last week, I found myself in the position of certified “Nomeite” over “small town newbie”.

See? Look how lost Eva and I are.  I’m a terrible tour guide.

Luckily however, I don’t think my friends Andrea and Nicole saw through the facade that I actually know where I’m going in this town.  You’d think that I’d know where I was going seeing as how this is a small town and there’s plenty of time to explore.  As my mother says however, “that boy couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag”.  It’s true.  I’ve been known to avoid carrying homemade lunches for this very reason.
We can talk about my lunchtime habits during some other blog post though.  All in all I feel like I did a good job of showing my friends around.  Not only was it great getting the chance to introduce my friends to the voyage I’ve embarked on here in Nome, visiting places like Anvil Mountain, the White Alice Site, and the icy shoreline was also a much needed reminded for myself of how much adventure awaits just outside of the Volunteer House.
The best part of having visitors in Nome is surprising them with facts about day-to-day life here in Town.  Some of my favorites to name a few include:
“Here’s the post office.  It’s also the Chiropractor’s.”
“What kind of restaurant is that?  Well it serves sushi, pizza, Korean, Barbeque, Japanese, and burgers.”
“Here’s our only chain restaurant, Subway.  It’s also the movie theater.”

I am looking forward to more Volunteer House guests as my time here progresses.  Until then, I’m going to studying up on how to get from all the point A’s to point B’s in this town before more company arrives.

Andrea and Nicole on Anvil Mountain.

Andrea and I.

Andrea at sunrise.

Touching the sea.

Getting ready for a hike!

Welcome to Nome!

When a friend arrives, you steal their talent.

Nicole recording an educational spot.

Anvil Mountain Sunset.

Outsiders!

See? Look how lost I am.

Dinner time.

Everybody!

Inside the studio.

Andrea and I on Anvil.

Always Wear Sunscreen.

You step outside with your layers of warm cotton, rain resistant nylon, and cozy wool to breathe in a clean, crisp, breath of ocean air.  Welcome to your morning in Nome.

For my first few weeks here, the smell of ocean air paired with the chilly atmosphere totally baffled my senses.  I would step out for a walk, take in my fair share of oxygen and immediately my mind would flood with thoughts of sunscreen and hot sand.  It only takes on frigid gust of wind to dispel those thoughts and bring you back into the reality of being in Nome, Alaska over, say, Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.  The cold air and lack of conventional seaside frolicking hasn't kept Nome's shores from becoming my favorite haunt in town.

Maybe it's the fact that no matter where I am in the world, the beach reminds me a bit of homespun vacation memories tucked back in the 'North Carolina' box of my mind, or perhaps it's just the fact that the feel of yielding sand beneath your feet paired with the sound of crashing waves is always a recipe for a zen moment, but I find myself walking the same seaside paths week to week.  When you're off having an adventure far from home like we volunteers are, it is important to take time and space to reflect and continue to develop the connection between where you are, where you've been, and where you're going.  I know, I know, I'm getting a little sentimental and deep here.  That's probably because as I am writing this I am occasionally taking glances out toward the sea.  You see?  It just brings out the inner-peace in me.  It is magic.

Going to the beach doesn't always mean being alone with your thoughts.  You can always find a friend to take a walk with at the Volunteer House.  This especially is a fun time of year to hang out at the beach as you can take turns chucking ice into the water, acting as lookouts for marine mammals, and climbing the rock wall.  Watching the ocean freeze over is such a surreal experience.  The closest experience I have with bodies of water freezing in my presence is when I load the freezer with a freshly refilled ice cube tray.  I can't wait to have the opportunity to walk on the ocean.  Hello whimsy.  Until then I'll just keep track of the progress it is making from my window view.

(You'll have to excuse me for all of the slight altered photos.  I enjoy editing all of my photos to look like they came out of Lana Del Rey music videos.)