That's a Wrap!

I did it!! 

Although my usual posts tend to be on the long side, I am going to attempt to make this one short and sweet. Today has been a long day and it brings to a close a long month which followed a long month (and year) before that. Needless to say, I am a bit tired and ready for a break. Luckily for me, today brought with it my very last class as a graduate student and I can officially say that I earned a Masters of Education degree in Educational Leadership and will soon possess a “Type B” administrative certificate. This past year was challenging and trying, but today allowed me to reap the benefits of my long year of study! Congratulations to the other 20 members of “C9” (the 9th cohort to pass through this program), it has been my pleasure to study alongside you and I wish you all luck in your future endeavors!! 

Leaving Home

One last village walk,
 on our way to the plane

This is a tricky one for me to write about as the reality of leaving Nondalton has not set in yet. Our last days in the village were packed with final visits, walks, and last minute packing. When I say last minute, I mean down to the wire, plane was coming and we were finishing up our packing and cleaning. Talk about stressful! I tried to soak it up as much as I could, and of course the last night at home brought the gasping-for-breath-ugly-crying kind of tears, but it still didn’t feel as if it were really happening. It still doesn’t. I am friends with quiet a few women from the village and am able to see their pictures, and it seems just like any other summer. I’ll finish up in Juneau and head back to the East Coast for a visit, just as I did last year, and then head home. Except this summer it will be different. This summer, home will become somewhere new. New buildings, new views, everything new. All of those things are exciting because it’ll be a new chapter, but oh how bittersweet it is to bring a close to this current chapter. 

The One About the Wedding

Sorry folks, we’re taking a break from our regularly scheduled transition posts to focus on something else that’s been weighing on my mind for quite some time. This past year, the two questions I’ve been asked the most are “Where are you moving next” (or some variation) and “How’s the wedding planning going?”. Friends, family, new district staff, you name it, they’ve asked it. Which is great because those are two easy and seemingly non-awkward or painful conversation starters. It’s the safety zone of conversations when conversations dwindle or the ice-breaker when a new conversation begins. You want to talk to me, that’s great and I appreciate it, and sure I will talk to you about both. The problem? Most people don’t like a lot of my answers. 

What?! No Paige! We support you, it’s your day, do your thing, it doesn’t matter what others want, etc. etc. etc. I love you for the supportive comments that you’ll undoubtedly post when I share this link on Facebook, but let’s be honest with each other. As for the moving question, I think I covered that in the last post and well the title of this post leads for a wedding focus, so let’s stick with that. It’s a very well known fact in life that no matter who, what, where, when, how or why, someone will always have something to say about every facet of your life. School, sports, weddings, driving, babies, jobs, EVERYTHING we ever do is at risk for being commented on by other people. I am totally guilty of this, and I have never met someone who hasn’t been. It’s human nature to express opinions, which is awesome because freedom or speech and what not. What we need to remember is that in most cases, unless people have asked us for those opinions, we run the risk of just making relationships awkward when we express them. You see, after the opinion has been expressed, either the person is going to accept it, ignore it, politely offer some words to get away from the conversation, or worse yet they will feel the need to explain themselves. And strictly in terms of wedding planning I can say from first hand knowledge that I don’t feel the need to explain myself to you, or you, or you or that guy over there. 

Right on sister, you do you! Except for the fact that if you really knew me, you’d know that I am, to the core of my inner being, a people-pleaser. Not only that, but I have this weirdly strong emotional reaction to the emotions of other people; my older brother was running late to the police academy one time and seemed stressed and I almost cried. It’s irrational, but it’s there people, so let’s acknowledge it. Add these together along with wedding planning, and well it’s likely that the comments and suggestions you make, when not asked for, are going to cause inner turmoil and will also cause me to question everything for the next, oh let’s say 76 years.. Does that mean I don’t want anyone’s input or help? Not at all, I love that you’re taking the time and energy to have conversations with me. I love that you want to help. I love that I have friends and family willing to do anything and everything for me, especially because I am in Alaska. 

What I am expressing is that my wedding day is going to be perfect because I get to stand in front of my family and friends and show off my husband. Maybe the food won’t be to your liking or there won’t be enough decorations, or August is going to be too hot. Maybe you won’t like my dress or the ones that I allowed my bridesmaids to pick. You’ll probably have opinions on the fact that Sam has a groomswoman and that my bridal party is larger than his. You might think it's silly that Sam and I exchanged vows in our Alaskan village in February and still want this "real" wedding to celebrate with family and friends. Perhaps you won’t like the beer we have or that we'll be drinking soda straight from the can. But must you comment on this to let me know you don't like this or that or the other thing? Please just trust me when I say that we are VERY much aware of the decisions we are making for our wedding. Therefore, your negative comments in regards to why you don't like our choices about this or that are just going to make things acca-awkward. If I’m talking to you about the wedding and you see something that is guaranteed to cause logistical disasters, please let me know. If you are helping me with a wedding task and have your opinions, please express them, I have asked for your help for a reason. If you see something in a store that you think would be a great addition, I love that you’re thinking of me, please send pictures. But please don’t make me feel bad about having a cookie bar instead of cake and lawn games instead of a dance floor. 

We live in a society in which people are judged for every single thing they do, who they do it with, why they do it, and everything in between. Weddings are a celebration of two people coming together and making a commitment and should be just about what those two people want. If you don’t like what they have planned, just let them do it anyway because it’s obviously what they want. You think the wedding bouncy house is a disaster waiting to happen? Let it happen and laugh about it with your co-workers the next week. You’re upset you can’t make it to their destination wedding, they’ll still like you but feelings might get hurt if you make them feel guilty about planning a wedding so far away. When there are so many ugly things in our world and so much negativity, let’s just try to raise up people in the moments that we can. I AM GUILTY. I think I wrote this post more to help me change my ways than anything, and no this is not targeted at you, or you, or you or that guy over there. Nothing other than free time to focus on my thoughts stemmed me to write this post. 

To all the wonderful men and women in my life, please know that I support you. I may think you’re crazy for certain things or maybe there are things that I’d do differently, but I won't comment on them because I want you to be happy, especially on your wedding day. If you want a huge lavish wedding, please have it and enjoy it and savor every moment. You’re going to elope? I’d love to see pictures if you want to share them with me! I didn’t get invited because we’re not that close or we haven’t talked in years? I wish you nothing but happiness and hope we can catch up sometime so I can hear about it. You want a 5-year engagement? Just let me know when to be where. You’re getting married a month after getting engaged? Congrats! You don’t want to get married, there’s nothing wrong with that! You aren’t ready for marriage? There’s no perfect time, move at your pace! Please please please plan the wedding, or two weddings or five or zero, that make you and your soon to be spouse happy and at peace. I love you and wish you well. 

Transitioning from the Tundra: Part 2

Sam's taxi service 

Well would you look at that, I made it around to a part 2! I will say that I am enjoying the rest that comes from my new unemployment status, as I sit here and write this at 9am on a Monday from the comfort of my couch. As nice as it is to take a break, I am a “doer” so I am already starting to get a bit restless in my inactivity. Sam and I enjoyed a week-long visit with his Dad in which we were out and about exploring and adventuring when the weather allowed for it (see attached pictures!). Other than that though, the next two weeks are devoted to getting some Alaskan based wedding tasks completed as well as clearing out and packing up the rest of our lives out here. This brings me to the focus of this part 2 post which is going to be about the moving process. 

Some items from our
first of 3 yard sales

To begin, let’s journey back to the summer of 2014 when I made my move to Alaska to live on my own for the first time. I packed up two rubbermaid storage totes with about 60 pounds of belongings each and mailed them to my little Alaskan village, for about $80-$90 a piece (yay postal costs!). Luckily for me, I would get a large chunk of my moving expenses reimbursed. I then took a large suitcase and carry-on bag with the rest of my stuff. That was when I was single and only planning to live in Alaska for 4 months. Fast forward to current day, 4 years later, to the point that I have made what I like to consider a quaint and cozy home for myself and Sam in Nondalton. If you’d like, we can insert some “aw how cute” and other little happy thoughts after that sentence. 

Cessna loved having
her grandpa here!

This quaint and cozy little home has been fine and dandy, up until we decided we would uproot ourselves and move across the country to who knows where. That’s where things get hectic. You see, we don’t have the option of packing up a U-haul and driving home. Could that happen from Anchorage, yes in theory it could, but that’s not happening so we’ll focus on what is. As we don’t know where exactly we are going to end up, we just started shipping stuff to my parent’s house in Pennsylvania. Are we taking everything with us? No way! We have spent a lot of time weighing out the costs of sending items home versus buying new once we get there. Obviously personal items are coming home, but various household items and tools were decided upon based on whether or not it was cost effective to mail them home. The items not coming along have been sold and will be sold at our final yard sale this weekend, or will be donated to our tribal office for distribution at their discretion. Our options for mailing are to mail totes which would cost about $100 per 50-60 pounds or to send items in “Flat Rate” boxes in which you can send whatever you can get in the box for one set rate. From experience, you can fit about 30 pounds of heavy items into the box and it’ll still be $17.65. Another thing to consider is how far these heavy boxes are going to travel and how much tape it takes to reinforce them to ensure they get there safely. To date, my dad has only recorded one “casualty” of mailing in which a classroom fidget toy I had basically exploded it's insides and oozed all over everything. Special shout out to Papa Dukes for cleaning up that mess! 

<3 

Something else to take into account is that by using the flat rate boxes, we are not able to properly organize the boxes as you would for a typical move. We can’t just label a package as “kitchen box 1” because you need to use up all your space in these boxes which means cramming random stuff from random places into the box. It will be like Christmas morning when we find a place to live and move in, because I couldn’t tell you what’s in 97% of the boxes. Heck, I just packed up 3 boxes yesterday and couldn’t really tell you for certain what’s in any one of them. Could we have made itemized lists of content in each box? Sure. Is that something I would be known to do? Definitely. But let’s be honest, ain’t nobody got time for that...so Christmas it is! 

Adventures on the muddy tundra!

Thankfully, the postal service has a fun little service known as “media mail” that we learned about thanks to a friend who moved from Alaska last year. As books and other media are heavy and therefore costly to send, the postal service has allowed for lower rates on boxes solely devoted to books, movies, etc. These boxes can be any size, so we have sent about 4-5 of them with various books and my non-digital teaching materials. The nice thing about these boxes, aside from the low cost of sending them, is that I know at least a general idea of what's inside each one. I will say I am so grateful that most of my materials are digital because I can’t imagine sending binders and boxes full of worksheets and manipulatives. 

Saying "see you later"

Finally, something I am most proud of is our organization of luggage. We are going to be using up ALL of our checked bags and carry-ons to get our more bulky items home. When Sam’s mom was in Anchorage, we sent her with a duffel bag full of our personalized blankets and knick-knacks. When his dad just let, he took home 2 of our important pieces of framed artwork as well as some of Sam’s bulkier belongings. Those might not seem all too crafty in the scheme of sending things home, but here’s where I got mathematical and organized. In June, I will travel to Juneau before making my final trip home to PA. However, the week before I come home for good, I will travel home for a weekend to attend my brother's wedding. Both times, I will fly on Alaska Air, where as an Alaskan resident I get two free checked bags as well as the normal carry-on and personal item. To send a 50 pound rubbermaid tote within the state costs about $25, and with patience and a plan you can fit a lot into a tote. With that said, I have mailed 3 totes to Juneau in addition to flying with my large duffel bag which will be checked baggage and my smaller duffel that will be a carry-on item. While I will be home for just 60 hours for my brother’s wedding and therefore just need a small duffel bag worth of stuff, I will be traveling with 2 totes, a carry-on duffel and my backpack. I will leave the two totes and most contents of the backpack behind and return to Alaska with an empty backpack and the small duffel, which will no longer contain the clothing I need for the wedding festivities. A week later when I return to PA for good, I will also bring with me a checked bag, tote, carry-on, and backpack. A large majority of our belongings are coming home in this process, so for $75 and the cost of plane tickets I had to buy regardless, I am pretty proud of this organizational feat. 

Our adventure pup LOVES boating

In all honesty, reliving this packing process is making my brain hurt, but I wanted to be able to explain what the moving process is. To be honest, the most stressful thing about this whole process for me is not knowing where these boxes are going to end up! As we’re going to be staying with my parents in PA, hopefully for no more than a few weeks, until we find a place to call home for awhile, we won’t be opening or unpacking these boxes. We'll pretty much live out of our bags as much as possible instead of trying to take a gamble on opening boxes to find specific items. After this whole relocating process, I will never again under-appreciate the ease of packing up a car or U-haul with all of your belongings. For anyone moving in the near future, I wish you luck and happy packing!

Transitioning from the Tundra: Part 1

Cessna enjoyed being
out on Six Mile Lake

After four years, I think you as a reader and I as the writer can agree that we have covered quite some ground together. Maybe you’re my parents or a friend or someone I’ve never met who stumbled across this blog. Regardless of how you came to follow along or how long you have been on this journey with me, we have had our moments together. You’ve read about the best and worst parts of village life and have gotten to see into my life through the pictures I include in each post. With that said, I thought I’d spend the next few weeks covering the transition from bush life to the "road system”. The transition does not come easily and brings with it a lot more emotion and anxiety than I had anticipated, so as always I am going to be as raw and honest as possible. With that said, the focus of “part 1” is going to be about friendships. 

Exploring the tundra

Not what you were expecting? Me either! But as my upcoming move draws near, I find myself becoming more anxious about my friends from home and how to go about re-inserting myself into their lives. It may seem silly and I myself feel that it’s a bit irrational, but I have this deep rooted fear that I will not belong or fit in with my friends from home. When I say friends, I don’t just mean those people that I rarely saw when I lived in New Jersey, but I mean those that I am the closest with and those who I spent the most time with, even my best friend since kindergarten. Of course, during my first three years I had gotten home for winter and summer breaks which had allowed me to visit with these people. I have written letters and tried to keep in touch on Facebook, but we all know how life goes and often if you are out of sight you become out of mind (and yes it is a two way street, I am also at fault). This past year has been the most challenging as not only did I remain in Alaska for winter break, but I missed more weddings than I care to admit and it has caused a lot of heartache. Not only have I missed weddings, but I have been away for birthdays, work celebrations, bridal showers, “friends-givings", and so much more. 

Out on Lake Clark 

Don’t get me wrong, I understand that with each experience or moment I have missed out on at home that I have gained an incredible memory in this beautiful place or have grown in some way or another. I also try to remember the advice from my step-mom who has said time and again “these are ‘days’ and ‘moments’, some more important than others but single moments in time, and there will undoubtedly be more moments, more birthdays, more weddings, so much more that you’ll get to be a part of” (might have paraphrased a little, hope this gets the gist of your message Meg). The struggle now is determining how to go about having those moments. How do I reconnect with these people who I love but have lost touch with? Will I be able to fit in with them? Will they forgive me for the moments I have missed out on? Are they going to be willing to open up and allow me to hear about those memories? The scariest question I am faced with is, will they want me to be part of the new moments I’ll now be able to be involved in? Has too much time passed or have I missed too much? These thoughts and questions have been swirling around my mind on repeat these past few months, but even more so as my return gets closer. 

Hooray for May! 

I know that some people do not truly understand how different life is here in the village or how few friendships you can form with so few people living nearby. To clarify, my current day-to-day friendships include Caitlin and Emily who I hang out with at least for one walk each night, Sam and I often have them as well as another teacher Cassie, and her boyfriend Jared, over for game nights every other week. The six of us have been a friend group for three years, knowing each other's lives more intimately than any average co-workers would. We have faced a lot together, but without a doubt all of our conversations revolve around the kids or end up involving the kids, as they are our lives out here. Aside from them, I have Sam and Cessna. While I appreciate these relationships more than I can describe in words, those are the sum of my friendships here. Sure there are friends in other villages, but just like those from back home, most of our communication is done through messages or Facebook. What I am trying to explain is that not only am I anxious about restoring friendships at home, but I am nervous about socializing and connecting with people in general. Once again, I feel that perhaps I can begin to make this transition easier by writing about it and getting my thoughts into words. Then again, maybe I am just rambling on and not making any sense. 

Forever exploring!

Luckily for me, I have a friend who has gone through a similar transition and was finally able to gather the courage to seek out her advice and thoughts on the matter. I had been going back and forth as to whether or not I should reach out to her when she happened to contact me and finally I felt that I could approach this topic. She helped put me a bit more at ease about it all, but I know that I will continue to have these fears until I am back in the lives of these friends. This friend, and a few other people, have reminded me that I must be patient with myself and my emotions as I transition back to “civilization”.  I must ask now that you remain patient with me as there might not ever be another post about the transition, or maybe there will be 10. Who knows, because life can get busy but my emotions are, and undoubtedly will continue to be, all over the place. Either, know that as always, I appreciate you for reading along as I figure out this thing called life. 

Closing a Chapter

One last look before the move

Today was the first day of May! It also brought our end of year award ceremony, village clean-up, and community lunch. You see, these things happen on the last day of school each year. Though we’re letting out early, the events of the day were pretty much routine for Nondalton’s end of the year traditions. Except today was different.. Today, my day started with removing the final items from my classroom as the incoming special education teacher will be in a different classroom. Today, my principal made mention of the three teachers who wouldn’t be returning next year and I was included. Today, when the community lunch was over and kids began to run out the door to summer vacation, I was saying see-you laters that might be for good. Today I closed a chapter. 

I'll miss this classroom view!

Though Sam and I will remain in Nondalton until the end of May, I don’t know that I’ll see all of the kids again. Even if I do, it won’t be the same. I won’t get to see them shuffle into school tired in the morning or excited to tell me about something silly they did the night before. They won’t be teasing me for my rice cakes and turkey wraps at lunch time or asking me and Sam about our wedding or how Cessna is doing. If and when I see the kids from now on, it will be in passing around the village and just won’t be the same. And that’s okay, but it’s also surreal. I didn’t cry at school today, although I briefly teared up during the award ceremony. Even the kids knew they couldn’t count that as crying, because they witnessed me ball my eyes out (on the verge of ugly crying) a few days ago during our “talking circle” during Culture Week. I thought I might cry as I looked out at the lake from my classroom for the last time before grabbing the last of my belongings and turning it over to the next teacher, but the tears didn't come. As prepared as I had been for the tears to flow today, they never came during school. 

This brought all the tears

When the crying didn’t happen during school, I thought that since I’d been able to get some emotional release at Culture Week then perhaps I would get by. Or that maybe they’d come tomorrow during our final teacher work day. However, after school, Sam and I took advantage of the rare sunshine (seriously spring, it’s time to show yourself) and went out for a Honda ride. As we drove down the beach and rounded a curve along the river and the mountains, trees, and birds came into view, the dam broke and the tears flowed. It was this true release and there is no other way to describe it. I wasn’t thinking about school or the kids, and yet the tears began to flow and then of course the past four years surged by in memories. It was unexpected, but so necessary and it really helped me to find closure. Sam jokingly asked if I was rethinking my decision to leave, and I immediately responded through my tears with “no”. 

Adventures along the river 

As heart-breaking and bittersweet as it is to leave these kids, my kids, it’s time. The closure on leaving the village will come later. Today was closing the chapter of bush teaching. I am so ready to figure out what comes next for Sam and I, for our little family. I need change and am desperate for socialization and to be in closer proximity to family. And yet, I am leaving family behind here because think what you will but these kids really are “my” kids. I have been interacting with the same 25-ish kids for three and a half years, and have worked closely with about 7-10 of those kids for the same amount of time. I have seen the good, the bad, the ugly, and everything in between. I’ve been there for it all in these past few years and for some the growth has been unbelievable. I have celebrated their accomplishments, helped them fight uphill battles, listened to them discuss both the good and the bad situations at home, and I have faced life and loss with them. We have seen each other's silly laughter, tears of sorrow, tired eyes, and looks of excitement. I have talked with them about death more times than any adult should have to and they have seen me scarred and covered in bruises after a life threatening accident. They aren’t related to me by blood, but they have become my kids and will always be my kids when I think of and talk about them. 

Loving on the thawing lake! 

Though I get to keep calling Alaska home for the next two months (let’s be honest, I’ll always call it home), today I closed a chapter. I will no longer be a bush teacher or an itinerant teacher, and after tomorrow I am no longer an LPSD teacher. I don’t think it has really set in and I’m not sure when it will, but after writing in my journal I knew blogging was a must. I never want to forget these raw and real moments as they happen. I want to look back on these days years down the road and be able to relive all of the important moments. A presenter during Culture Week said this after I burst into tears, she said “It’s okay to cry, there’s nothing wrong with crying”. She also said "when you see someone crying you should hug them because it makes them stronger” and how lucky I am to have students and community members that have helped strengthen me during this time. What an adventure it has been! 

All Things April

Flattop Mountain

I’ve been meaning to get around to a new post for weeks now, but every time I get a "break", reality calls and reminds me of all that’s on my list and the changes coming my way. So the pressing, albeit fun-sucking, tasks have taken priority while my list of things to include in my post has gotten longer and longer. For example, I planned to start this blog hours ago and yet I’m just now getting to it because tote-packing took priority. I’ll see what I can do to cover the important things that have happened recently. As I typed that, I thought I would look back to figure out how much I needed to recap. I just got another one of those reality checks as I saw that my last entry was written in February… Whoops.. Let’s just go ahead and cover the fact that March went by without anything incredible to note. Alright, now that March has been covered, let’s get back to the whole “All things April” theme I was aiming for. 

Canyon Creek

As a reminder, my school district adopted a new calendar this year and therefore April brought with it our last month of school. April also brought with it the first of the “lasts” as I started the month with my last site visit to Igiugig. It was a short and bittersweet visit and was a peaceful and reflective way to end my time as an itinerant Special Education teacher. I spent a lot of time reflecting on my various site visits to both Pilot Point and Igiuigig and then of course my mind wandered to the many adventures during my time in the district. However I tried to push those memories to the back because I just can't handle that flood of emotions yet. Saying my “see you laters” to my students and co-workers there was a surreal moment, but also provided me with closure on that chapter of my journey. 

One piece of our mural from Day 1! 

Once my site visit was finished, I jumped back into final Special Ed. tasks, paperwork, and meetings in Nondalton. In addition to that, we had our standardized state testing and final academic work days. I was almost as excited as my students were when testing finished, both because the pressure was removed from them but also because it meant our visiting artist would arrive. As part of my internship tasks this year, I applied for an Artists in Schools grant which allowed us to choose an artist to bring to Nondalton in order to complete a two-week long art residency. The artist I worked with on this is currently in her second week of working with our students. During her first week, Kristin worked with students to teach them the basics of drawing and painting. From drawing lines to mixing paints and everything in between, our kids had a week full of arts education. This week, we began our final project which is a large mural in our lobby that will welcome visitors to the school and showcase the student’s hard work for years to come. For me, this has been another sense of closure as all of my hard work and hours spent planning, budgeting, purchasing, and collaborating with various entities is paying off. I cannot wait to see the final product at the end of the week! 

Spotted on the way back from Seward

While I was enjoying the time spent learning from Kristin, I stepped away for a few days to get some MUCH needed city time. More importantly, I was able to get some family time! Momma Rigby arrived in Anchorage last week and I was able to join her and Sam for a few days during her visit. Cessna and I flew out to meet them and then my pupper got some loving from one of her grandma’s before going to spend the weekend with her friends at the vet. I savored the many hugs and love I received from Momma Rigby and being with even just one family member from home was restorative for my soul. Before I could fully relax and enjoy my visit, I had to take three tests that are required for transferring my teaching certificate. Once I took those tests and discovered that I had received the scores required in PA, I was able to let our a deep sigh of relief. Granted, I don't know if we're for sure moving to PA, but that's one necessary component to keep options open. Our weekend was then filled with lots of food and fun as we ate our way through our favorite restaurants and showed off this state that we love so much.

Hatcher Pass

Though I have always soaked in the sights in awe, I paid extra close attention to as many details as possible as we visited Flattop Mountain and Hatcher Pass. Not only the views from the top but the beautiful landscapes on the way to each were just what my soul needed. I cannot describe the sadness I feel in my heart to know that I will soon be leaving this behind. However, I feel just as blessed to have been able to experience this all in the first place. Plain and simply, this state will forever have a piece of my heart. Thought I was perfectly happy to visit my favorite places, I was eager to experience some new sights as we ventured to Seward on Saturday. After a gloomy yet gorgeous drive, lots of stops for pictures along the way, and a pit stop to the Wildlife Conservation Center, we made our way to our destination. Together we visited the SeaLife Center which I’ve wanted to see for almost as long as I have been here. We enjoyed getting up close to many sea creatures and were all blown away by the size of the Sea Lions that were housed there. We then had a delicious dinner in a restaurant that overlooked the harbor and watched as an otter swam back and forth nearby. The drive home graced us with more memories, especially as we visited the town of Whittier. 

Whittier A.K.A. Ghost Town

Stopping in Whittier required us to travel through a one-way tunnel that goes through a huge mountain. The tunnel works on a 30-minute traffic system in which each direction is allowed to travel through the tunnel for a total of 30-minutes at a time. We arrived at the tunnel at 8:00 but were unable to go through until the light turned green at 8:30. We then were not allowed to come back through the tunnel to return to Anchorage until 9:00,10:00, or 11:00. The tunnel closes at 11:00 and does not reopen until the morning, so if we were to have missed the 11:00 tunnel opening, we would have been stuck overnight. Luckily we only spend about 15 minutes driving through the creepy ghost-like town that we found on the other end of the tunnel. We drove through the tunnel in about 8-minutes and then entered Whittier which due to it being off-season was seemingly a ghost-town. During our short visit we barely saw any residents, even though we drove around the singular condo building that houses all community members. The time of night, gloomy skies, and run down buildings led to a very eerie feeling all around. While I can imagine the beauty this town has to offer during the booming summer months, I shudder to imagine getting stuck and needing to spend the night. Needless to say, I was very happy to see the light turn green sot that we could leave Whittier behind. 

Hatcher Pass

Then, as if I arrived in Anchorage and blinked, it was time for Cessna and I to return home. Due to the artist being here and Culture Week being this week, I wasn’t able to stay for an extended visit. I ached to leave Momma Rigby and Sam behind, but was so very thankful that the timing worked out so that I was able to spend a few days with them. With a belly content until my next trip to the city, fresh produce to last a few weeks, and new memories to replay, it was time to board a plane. After a not so fun “see you later”, Cessna and I hopped on the Pilatus with 4 other passengers and 2 pilots. Knowing that the past few days had been gloomy, I was aware that the trip home was likely to bring with it some bumps. Our departure from Anchorage provided some anxiety causing turbulence, but the rest of the flight was pretty smooth. As we began our descent and I could see familiar landscapes, I began to let out the deep breathe I had been holding. However, I must have acted too soon, because the lower to the ground we got, the windier and bumpier it became. I will say that through all of my flights I have kept my composure rather well, including my recent Pedro Bay encounter. Yesterday, however, was as if I was a new person. 

<3 <3 <3 

As we came over Lake Clark and the bumps got more intense, a local Dad looked to me and questioned if I was doing okay. I tried to make conversation but could not do so as I was focused on gripping the seat for dear life and trying not to hyperventilate. My efforts were pointless at that rate because I soon found myself in the midst of a full blown panic attack. It truly felt that we were flying at rocket ship speeds at this point. The problem was not that I didn’t trust the very skilled pilot with whom I have flown with countless times. Honestly, I am not quite sure what the true problem was, but I was in full on freak out mode. Caitlin reminded me later that flying in and out of the village on the Pilatus is always worse because you can feel the bumps so much more severely than in the smaller planes. In the moment, I lost all rational thought and envisioned only the worst. It was then that God reminded me the kindness that others can provide and the comfort that can be found in people who we virtually have no relationship to. The dad sitting next to me began to talk me through the moves the pilot was making, held direct eye contact with me so as to keep me grounded, and after a particularly scary bought of turbulence allowed me to squeeze his hand for the remainder of the flight. Me, Paige Norman, world’s most awkward person grabbing onto this man's hand for dear life. Yup, just let that one sink in.. Of course, because I’m me, I broke out of my panic to apologize to him and the other passengers for my full blown panic. It was this very surreal moment that even in my state of anxiety I was able to reflect upon. Thankfully, we arrived safely to the ground where of course the passengers then felt it was okay to gently tease me. Four years and a couple hundred flights later, yet I think I remain a scared newbie in their eyes. After ten thousand more apologies, thanks for the hand holding and talking down, and the some more apologies for my unexpected freak-out, Cessna and I all but ran from the plane and to the safety of home. 

Before the terror..

Reflecting on the flight again brings with it this awe for the comfort that can be found in strangers in times of need. Sure, I knew this Dad and have joked around with him now and again, but for all intents and purposes, he is a stranger. Though I was not a fan of the last few minutes of the flight, I am thankful for the lesson it brought with it. Fear leads for us to jump right out of our comfort zones to find  comfort, and that’s okay. It’s healthy to admit fear and uncertainty and to seek help, even in the most unexpected places or from the most unexpected people. It's also okay to talk about your fears so that others may connect with your encounters and know that they are not alone in their anxiety. Maybe this sounds like rambling from the crazy girl who mildly freaked out on a plane, but to me it’s a weird and surreal life lesson. 

Momma Rigby lovin'
at Canyon Creek<3

With one of my second to last (for now) bush flight behind me, I was glad to get settled in at home. Though I wish I’d been able to stay with Sam and his mom until she left this evening, I was ready to sleep in my own bed. Today began another “last” as Culture Week kicked off. This promises to be another busy week, but also brings with it the last full week of school, so rest is on the horizon! I am hoping to stay in the moment as much as possible and to soak in everything that is happening around me. I know that I appreciated the quirks and activities from today much more than I have in the past, and for that I am thankful. Just 1 more Monday, 6 more school days, 1 teacher work day, 2 graduate school classes, and 1 final grant report to go!