Every culture has a keeper. A keeper of a bundle of information. The one who keeps the stories that make the clan, tribe, or village what they are. They may be a shaman, elder, or just someone in the village who likes to tell stories. Pitka's Point nestled along the banks of the Yukon River, was no exception. The Keeper was a teacher named Elaagna mallra, or as we called him, Sergie Nick.
Sergie taught Yup'ik language and cultural skills to all 32 students at Pitka's Point. The older ones he took to the shop and showed them the finer points of building sleds. Some of the more talented students he taught to carve in ivory, wood, bone, and soap stone. The art of sewing skins was part of the curriculum, be it a boy or girl student. Bead work was attempted by all, but the girls seemed to enjoy it more than the boys.
The younger children liked the stories and legends he told and several times a year all participated in the "talking circle." That is when all the students or adults connected with the school, and sometimes the community, sat in a circle, given an object that may or may not have any significance, and tell the group how they felt or their innermost thoughts.
The only rule was that no one could interrupt, and what was said in the circle stayed in the circle. The children respected that and I never heard anyone make fun of anyone after the circle disbanded.
The last few years Sergie told me had been hard. "It becomes harder and harder," he said, "for the old ways, beliefs, and customs to mean what it used to, to the next generation. Video games, television, action movies, and other western perks seem to take hold much easier." The bundle of information Sergie had however nor his enthusiasm to relate it never seemed to diminish.
If there was one thing I learned living in an Eskimo village it was that kids are kids, people are people, and every time I saw something different or what I thought was different, I stopped and realized that the same thing happens in the Lower 48. We teachers got appalled up there when we would see or hear of bullying, when a kid got involved in drugs or alcohol, when a 14-year-old returned from an exclusive boarding school because he or she was home sick, or when we noticed that Eskimos parents spoil their children. Any of this sound familiar?
Being of Scotch/Irish decent I have found that my children really don't care that much about their ancestry. If you would ask any of them where their ancestors came from they are more often than not to say Indiana. You ask an Alaskan Native where their ancestors came from and they probably will say "here."
The bundle of sacred information our fathers and grandfathers have has less and less meaning each generation. But hope is not lost. Every so often a spark is lit by the Sergies of this world and the torch and stories are passed along. It has probably been that way for generations and no culture past or present has been immune. If one were to visit Pitka's Point, Emmonic, Kotlick, Bethel, or a host of other villages in bush Alaska they will find a Sergie passing on to the next generation all that is and was held sacred, at least once upon a time. A fire will be lit in one or two of the students and the process will repeat itself.
There will always be a Keeper of the Sacred Bundle.
http://www.amazon.com/Tales-Homer-Conley-Stone-McAnally/dp/0615779808/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1372261480&sr=1-1&keywords=tales+from+homer
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