From Whispering Wind - American Indian: Past and Present
Effie Talks - as told to Conley McAnally
"Our people need to survive. I had heard the expression 'harsh survival' used many times when listening to the elders talk about the days long ago." Said Effie Hadley, herself now an elder. "A group would take their wives, kids, and dogs, everything they owned and walk the land hunting for food and trying to select the best place to spend the winter. Sometimes they would find a place and then another group would come along and they would have to leave, fight, or welcome them.
"At a place we called Inuktag a girl once saw a group of people coming out of the fog carrying logs. These people looked strange to her so she ran to tell her people. But as she was running the other group's shaman threw a feather with a sharp point that hit her in the neck. By the time she had reached her people she had forgotten what it was she was going to tell them. All the people in Buckland were surprised by the attack and killed.
"Shamans had great power over our people, even when I was small. The wise ones would have a vision and would tell people what they should or should not do. I remember very well that the shaman told a friend of mine not to braid anything. Not grass, not hair, not sinew - nothing. No reason was given and after a time the girl forgot.
"One day my friend started braiding some grass for a basket. She was just about to finish when she saw a lot of people running towards her sod home. She remembered what the shaman had told her, but it was to late. Her father had died.
"After that her life and her mother's life got very hard. She ended up getting married at thirteen to a hunter. She had no choice. He provided food for her and her mother but he was a cruel man. He would let other men play with her, but my friend leaned how to do her chores and be a good wife and not complain. Young girls cannot imagine that happening to them today. But strange things happen out here away from the eyes of the people.
"My friends plight was not typical but it did happen often enough. Many don't like to talk about those things. It is embarrassing to them, but what was is."
Monday, November 29, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Eskimo Voice - 2. Ayauniq, Part 1
This article was first published in Whispering Wind - American Indian: Past and Present Vol 36 No 1,
Issue # 251
Ayauniq, better known today as Effie Hadley, was born January 7, 1939 in a sod logged top hut far from anything that most of us would come close to calling civilization. Other than a midwife, mother, and father everyone else in her group had already left the temporary camp for Buckland. Ayauniq's mother was due anytime and traveling was not an option.
Effie said that when she was born she was scrawny and cross-eyed. She said that it reminded her years later of what Quasimodo must have looked like. However, she was her mother's youngest, her mother's favorite. "Mother thought I was beautiful and was going to fatten me up." Effie attributes much to her mother and promised me she would write down some remembrances to share with anyone who might be interested.
She did tell me that her mother was smart and wise. To make pliable and remove the hair off seal skins for the making of mukluks, leggings, and shirts, "She would give each one of us a skin, showed us how to fold t, and send us outside to sled down the hills during winter. This loosened the fur and made it much easier to peal off. " Tom Sawyer and his fence was not a new idea.
Effie said that another way to loosen the fur was to bury the skin in the corner of the hut and let it stay there for a week or so. There was some sort of chemical reaction with the fat, meat, and fur so that after digging it up it fur pealed of easily. The trouble she said was, "It smelled terrible. You had to ware seal skin pants or an apron and gloves, but the stink would never go away. You could wash and wash and the stink just stayed and stayed, it seemed like forever. But it was something that needed to be done. All needed mukluks, pants, and parkas."
Effie recalls that the men of the village use to make a pumgayuq, loosely translated as bobsled because it was so close to the ground. It doubled as a sort of a boat that could be taken out on the ice and shallows while looking for seal. The kill wold be brought back to the village, distributed, and the pumgayuq would be used for fuel. Continued in Part 2.
Issue # 251
Ayauniq, better known today as Effie Hadley, was born January 7, 1939 in a sod logged top hut far from anything that most of us would come close to calling civilization. Other than a midwife, mother, and father everyone else in her group had already left the temporary camp for Buckland. Ayauniq's mother was due anytime and traveling was not an option.
Effie said that when she was born she was scrawny and cross-eyed. She said that it reminded her years later of what Quasimodo must have looked like. However, she was her mother's youngest, her mother's favorite. "Mother thought I was beautiful and was going to fatten me up." Effie attributes much to her mother and promised me she would write down some remembrances to share with anyone who might be interested.
She did tell me that her mother was smart and wise. To make pliable and remove the hair off seal skins for the making of mukluks, leggings, and shirts, "She would give each one of us a skin, showed us how to fold t, and send us outside to sled down the hills during winter. This loosened the fur and made it much easier to peal off. " Tom Sawyer and his fence was not a new idea.
Effie said that another way to loosen the fur was to bury the skin in the corner of the hut and let it stay there for a week or so. There was some sort of chemical reaction with the fat, meat, and fur so that after digging it up it fur pealed of easily. The trouble she said was, "It smelled terrible. You had to ware seal skin pants or an apron and gloves, but the stink would never go away. You could wash and wash and the stink just stayed and stayed, it seemed like forever. But it was something that needed to be done. All needed mukluks, pants, and parkas."
Effie recalls that the men of the village use to make a pumgayuq, loosely translated as bobsled because it was so close to the ground. It doubled as a sort of a boat that could be taken out on the ice and shallows while looking for seal. The kill wold be brought back to the village, distributed, and the pumgayuq would be used for fuel. Continued in Part 2.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Letters from the Last Frontier - Alaska, 3
Dear Jodi,
I can only guess as to why a lot of the kids don't want to leave the village and go "see the world" as they say. I guess most of them like the things the way they are. Some leave but many come back after a short stay in some city down south. I guess the village is sort of like a family.
The boys have grown up hunting and fishing like their dads and uncles and like the life for the most part. Even the girls have started to branch out and learn what their brothers have been taught. One of my girl students shot a moose this year.
A lot of the kids talk about being a doctor or a pilot, the opportunities are there, but how much is whimsy remains to be seen. A few of the kids have talked to me about where I live but they are not that interested in the outside world. That surprises me.
One social psychologist that comes to the village now and then told me that many of the kids have a feeling of hopelessness and feel totally unprepared to meet the challenges of the real world. They get scared and come back to the village with baggage they did not have when they left.
For instance the other day there was a burial of a 21 year old boy that died of an over dose in Las Vegas. This happens in the lower 48 too, when a kid leaves a small town for the bright lights, but this is the third kid this year from the village that either died from a self inflicted wound or an overdose of drugs or alcohol.
The school district started a program whereby the kids would be taken to Anchorage for two weeks at a time and taught the rudiments of city life. I thought the program had a lot of potential, but the program failed because of poor administration, programing, and abuse of the facility by some board members and their friends.
Many of the kids have no idea what it is like outside the village other than what they see on TV or videos. I mentioned about mowing my yard the other day and they had no concept of what I was talking about. We have kids here that have never seen a tree. The place is really isolated.
There are some really great leaders in the village and they have a tremendous challenge ahead. We teachers are supposed to be here to help but sometimes I think we only get in the way.
Snapper
I can only guess as to why a lot of the kids don't want to leave the village and go "see the world" as they say. I guess most of them like the things the way they are. Some leave but many come back after a short stay in some city down south. I guess the village is sort of like a family.
The boys have grown up hunting and fishing like their dads and uncles and like the life for the most part. Even the girls have started to branch out and learn what their brothers have been taught. One of my girl students shot a moose this year.
A lot of the kids talk about being a doctor or a pilot, the opportunities are there, but how much is whimsy remains to be seen. A few of the kids have talked to me about where I live but they are not that interested in the outside world. That surprises me.
One social psychologist that comes to the village now and then told me that many of the kids have a feeling of hopelessness and feel totally unprepared to meet the challenges of the real world. They get scared and come back to the village with baggage they did not have when they left.
For instance the other day there was a burial of a 21 year old boy that died of an over dose in Las Vegas. This happens in the lower 48 too, when a kid leaves a small town for the bright lights, but this is the third kid this year from the village that either died from a self inflicted wound or an overdose of drugs or alcohol.
The school district started a program whereby the kids would be taken to Anchorage for two weeks at a time and taught the rudiments of city life. I thought the program had a lot of potential, but the program failed because of poor administration, programing, and abuse of the facility by some board members and their friends.
Many of the kids have no idea what it is like outside the village other than what they see on TV or videos. I mentioned about mowing my yard the other day and they had no concept of what I was talking about. We have kids here that have never seen a tree. The place is really isolated.
There are some really great leaders in the village and they have a tremendous challenge ahead. We teachers are supposed to be here to help but sometimes I think we only get in the way.
Snapper
Friday, November 26, 2010
Crisp Lake Chronicles, Vol 3
Crisp Lake Chronicle - 1951
In a dual ceremony last Saturday Doc Walsh and Steve O'Banion received the coveted Crisp Lake Association award for Valuable Service to Mankind. Doc Walsh was given the award for reattaching the left big toe of Beeney Watts and Steve for thinking quickly enough to carry Beeney and his severed left toe to Doc's office in Fairmount.
In sworn testimony Steve and Beeney told authorities that Beeney had been doing dishes for his mother late in the afternoon because Beeney's mother was working second shift at Charlie's Market. A butcher's knife fell from Beeney's hand thus slicing his left toe completely off. Steve and some friends just so happened to be walking on the lake bank of Crisp Lake when they heard Beeney scream. They rushed into Beeney's house and found Beeney on the floor with blood spurting from where his left toe once had been. Steve immediately took charge of the situation, applied some dish towels to the bloodied area, found the toe among the blood, put it in his pocket, picked up Beeney and between he and his pals carried Beeney to Doc's office, like I mentioned above.
Doc Walsh had never really done a toe reattachment but tried anyway. Apparently it was successful and Beeney will be fine and the limp will eventually go away. Doc is expected to receive an additional award from the Fairmount Volunteer Fireman's Club while Steve and his friends will receive a salt cured ham from Charlie's Market.
However upon further investigation by the Chronicle the truth was found. This is what really happened.
Steve, Beeney, and some other boys were rummaging around Beeney's grandfather's garage when they came across a large hunting knife that both thought would work better for their favorite game, stretch'em, than the little pen knife they normally used.
Now to the one or two of you who do not know what stretch'em is, it is when two opponents face each other standing at attention. One throws a knife to the left or right of the other and then the one being thrown at stretches his closest leg to where the knife was thrown, as long as it sticks in the ground and one can get two fingers between the handle and the ground. Then the process is reversed and continues that way until one of the players either can't stretch any further or loses his balance.
Steve is a master of the game but Beeney came up with the idea to play "chicken." That is where two opponents face each other with legs spread as far apart as possible and each player takes turns throwing the knife between the others legs and one foot is drawn to the center where the knife stuck, given the two finger rule of course. This continues until one of the boys (girls are not allowed to play) decides that his feet are to close together and doesn't think the other guy can throw the knife accurately enough. Then he says Chicken.
Beeney had about six inches between his feet when Steve suggested Beeney give up and call Chicken. Beeney refused to quit. Steve begged him to chicken out, but Beeney would not be reasoned with. Beeney said he wanted to throw the knife back towards Steve one more time and watch Steve chicken out. Beeney taunted Steve and said he was the Chicken not he, Beeney.
The only part of the story told to investigators that was true was that Steve did pick-up the severed toe, put it in his pocket and carry the crying and screaming Beeney to Doc Walsh's office.
It is not clear who really won the contest because Beeney did not chicken out and Steve, by the rules, has to let Beeney throw the knife back, or chicken out. The word on the Lake is that as soon as the swelling goes down and the toe is healed that a rematch will take place.
In a dual ceremony last Saturday Doc Walsh and Steve O'Banion received the coveted Crisp Lake Association award for Valuable Service to Mankind. Doc Walsh was given the award for reattaching the left big toe of Beeney Watts and Steve for thinking quickly enough to carry Beeney and his severed left toe to Doc's office in Fairmount.
In sworn testimony Steve and Beeney told authorities that Beeney had been doing dishes for his mother late in the afternoon because Beeney's mother was working second shift at Charlie's Market. A butcher's knife fell from Beeney's hand thus slicing his left toe completely off. Steve and some friends just so happened to be walking on the lake bank of Crisp Lake when they heard Beeney scream. They rushed into Beeney's house and found Beeney on the floor with blood spurting from where his left toe once had been. Steve immediately took charge of the situation, applied some dish towels to the bloodied area, found the toe among the blood, put it in his pocket, picked up Beeney and between he and his pals carried Beeney to Doc's office, like I mentioned above.
Doc Walsh had never really done a toe reattachment but tried anyway. Apparently it was successful and Beeney will be fine and the limp will eventually go away. Doc is expected to receive an additional award from the Fairmount Volunteer Fireman's Club while Steve and his friends will receive a salt cured ham from Charlie's Market.
However upon further investigation by the Chronicle the truth was found. This is what really happened.
Steve, Beeney, and some other boys were rummaging around Beeney's grandfather's garage when they came across a large hunting knife that both thought would work better for their favorite game, stretch'em, than the little pen knife they normally used.
Now to the one or two of you who do not know what stretch'em is, it is when two opponents face each other standing at attention. One throws a knife to the left or right of the other and then the one being thrown at stretches his closest leg to where the knife was thrown, as long as it sticks in the ground and one can get two fingers between the handle and the ground. Then the process is reversed and continues that way until one of the players either can't stretch any further or loses his balance.
Steve is a master of the game but Beeney came up with the idea to play "chicken." That is where two opponents face each other with legs spread as far apart as possible and each player takes turns throwing the knife between the others legs and one foot is drawn to the center where the knife stuck, given the two finger rule of course. This continues until one of the boys (girls are not allowed to play) decides that his feet are to close together and doesn't think the other guy can throw the knife accurately enough. Then he says Chicken.
Beeney had about six inches between his feet when Steve suggested Beeney give up and call Chicken. Beeney refused to quit. Steve begged him to chicken out, but Beeney would not be reasoned with. Beeney said he wanted to throw the knife back towards Steve one more time and watch Steve chicken out. Beeney taunted Steve and said he was the Chicken not he, Beeney.
The only part of the story told to investigators that was true was that Steve did pick-up the severed toe, put it in his pocket and carry the crying and screaming Beeney to Doc Walsh's office.
It is not clear who really won the contest because Beeney did not chicken out and Steve, by the rules, has to let Beeney throw the knife back, or chicken out. The word on the Lake is that as soon as the swelling goes down and the toe is healed that a rematch will take place.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Log 7, Alaska
Continued from Log 6
10/14/02
Last weekend our friends Bill and Sue came over for dinner and brought two quarts of beer (home brew.) It was a little on the dark side but I enjoyed it none the less.
The satellite keeps going out and I spent almost all day climbing around buildings and up and down poles. I got it going but weather conditions keeps the signal erratic. Have emailed all my friends to send up some videos of normal TV as a back up if one day I cannot get it fixed.
I have changed the seating configuration of my room about five times trying to do some internal levelizing, not that it makes much difference. They are all still behind.
I enrolled in another class, so this year I will pick-up nine college hours from the University of Alaska - so what - perhaps I will learn something though. It is about the History of Alaska, required for full certification.
So far I have heard that the the following teachers don't want to come back next year - VP, first grade, second grade, seventh grade and a kindergarten teacher. Two teachers say they want to transfer to Russian Mission and the Principal had a heart attack. It is only October.
10/20/02
Just got back from Jane and Jim's. Great couple. Jane is about my age, Jim a little older. They have a daughter named Kimmy who teachers here also. We go for coffee and roles on Sunday usually. They are from Idaho and have some connection to Tennessee. Their summer home is in Soldotna, about 3 hours from Anchorage. Kim says she is going to Nevada next year and teach.
It has started getting cold, down to around 0 with the wind chill a lot lower. The ponds that dot the Tundra are freezing over. The kids go out and play on them - running across the thinnest parts and are surprised when they fall through. I am sure they do this just for fun and not training for when they are adults and hunt on the pack ice, but I bet it is a carry over for when it really was necessary to have that skill.
Had a good size snow yesterday but it was a very fine snow so the wind whipped it around and you still see brown spots.
10/25/02
Visited with Marta. One of the old hands around here. Between her and Jane they have made life easy here. Nice lady. Friendly to the "newbees" as we are called. Comes from Florida. Summer home is in Anchorage. Always willing to give a helping hand. Does not like the principal much.
10/14/02
Last weekend our friends Bill and Sue came over for dinner and brought two quarts of beer (home brew.) It was a little on the dark side but I enjoyed it none the less.
The satellite keeps going out and I spent almost all day climbing around buildings and up and down poles. I got it going but weather conditions keeps the signal erratic. Have emailed all my friends to send up some videos of normal TV as a back up if one day I cannot get it fixed.
I have changed the seating configuration of my room about five times trying to do some internal levelizing, not that it makes much difference. They are all still behind.
I enrolled in another class, so this year I will pick-up nine college hours from the University of Alaska - so what - perhaps I will learn something though. It is about the History of Alaska, required for full certification.
So far I have heard that the the following teachers don't want to come back next year - VP, first grade, second grade, seventh grade and a kindergarten teacher. Two teachers say they want to transfer to Russian Mission and the Principal had a heart attack. It is only October.
10/20/02
Just got back from Jane and Jim's. Great couple. Jane is about my age, Jim a little older. They have a daughter named Kimmy who teachers here also. We go for coffee and roles on Sunday usually. They are from Idaho and have some connection to Tennessee. Their summer home is in Soldotna, about 3 hours from Anchorage. Kim says she is going to Nevada next year and teach.
It has started getting cold, down to around 0 with the wind chill a lot lower. The ponds that dot the Tundra are freezing over. The kids go out and play on them - running across the thinnest parts and are surprised when they fall through. I am sure they do this just for fun and not training for when they are adults and hunt on the pack ice, but I bet it is a carry over for when it really was necessary to have that skill.
Had a good size snow yesterday but it was a very fine snow so the wind whipped it around and you still see brown spots.
10/25/02
Visited with Marta. One of the old hands around here. Between her and Jane they have made life easy here. Nice lady. Friendly to the "newbees" as we are called. Comes from Florida. Summer home is in Anchorage. Always willing to give a helping hand. Does not like the principal much.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Thanksgiving Potlatch - Alaska
One year in early November while I was living in the wilds of the Last Frontier a fellow teacher approached me and asked if I was interested in co-sponsoring a potlatch around Thanksgiving. I reminded my friend that a potlatch was where the host gives nearly all his possessions away to the invitees and thus raises his status in the community and I was still attached to my television set. He ignored my protests and I consented, of course, knowing that one Gussick's potlatch is another one's potluck.
The kids made invitations to send to their parents and village elders. We held the feast the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and at the appointed hour the guests arrived promptly – Eskimo time not being an option where food was concerned.
A couple of teachers furnished turkeys and the type of food brought by the Eskimos did not surprise me. There was akgutq (Eskimo ice cream made from Crisco and tundra berries,) a huge vat of moose stew, dried salmon, corn dishes, plenty of breads, and the obligatory green bean casseroles. There was one item however that did cause me great consternation.
We all were about to go through the line a second time when some one yelled out "Mike is here!" Mike is declared by many to be an Eskimo's Eskimo. His grandfather was depicted once in a Disney Adventure film as being the best hunter in the village, and the skill has been in Mike's family ever since. I had heard about Mike but had never met him. It was a great honor that he showed up.
Mike entered the classroom dragging a dead seal by a rope. As I stood there sort of perplexed someone yelled, "Giviak.!" A great hurrah went up from the crowd. Giviak is like a stuffed turkey but the stuffed stuff are auks and the stuffee is a seal. Well sort of like a stuffed turkey I guess.
If you are interested in adding a traditional festive Eskimo item to your Thanksgiving meal this year it is to late, but if you think it appetizing for next year start now and just follow this simple recipe:
First kill a seal. Then use a long knife to cut around the tip of its nose and separate the meat from the blubber all the way down to its tail, being careful to keep the skin in tact, this is called flensing. Pull the meat from the seal in one quick motion.The meat pulled from the seal is used for a variety of things but is incidental to the preparation of the Giviak. If done properly you will have a seal skin lined only with blubber. Then stuff the seal with freshly dead auks.
A quick wrenching of the neck or pressing on the breast bone to crush the heart of the auk is the best way to kill the bird. If auks are not available you can use parakeets purchased at any pet store.
When the skin is full you sew up the carcass at the nose, and any other spot that the flensing might have punctured, with thread made from the seal's intestines. Dental floss will work also.
Find a secure spot to bury the carcass and cover the grave with stones to provide for heat conduction during the summer. The heat causes a chemical reaction and cooks the auks or parakeets. After one year dig the seal up and if not fully frozen – which will probably be the case in most of the lower 48 – put in the freezer.
Remove from the permafrost or freezer just prior to serving. Take to the gathering and with an ax or hatchet,chop into as many servings as needed to feed the gathering crowd.
The auks or parakeets are eaten first then the blubber. Consume the bird whole and since they still have their feathers, skeleton, and innards in tact be careful to spit same out before swallowing.
The seal skin is saved and given to the kids to chew on like bubble gum. Much better for their teeth.
The giviak went quickly. Being the good host I am, I retreated to the end of the serving line making sure my guests got their fair share first. The Giviak was all eaten before I arrived at the head of the line.
It was just my luck. Life can be so unfair.
The kids made invitations to send to their parents and village elders. We held the feast the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and at the appointed hour the guests arrived promptly – Eskimo time not being an option where food was concerned.
A couple of teachers furnished turkeys and the type of food brought by the Eskimos did not surprise me. There was akgutq (Eskimo ice cream made from Crisco and tundra berries,) a huge vat of moose stew, dried salmon, corn dishes, plenty of breads, and the obligatory green bean casseroles. There was one item however that did cause me great consternation.
We all were about to go through the line a second time when some one yelled out "Mike is here!" Mike is declared by many to be an Eskimo's Eskimo. His grandfather was depicted once in a Disney Adventure film as being the best hunter in the village, and the skill has been in Mike's family ever since. I had heard about Mike but had never met him. It was a great honor that he showed up.
Mike entered the classroom dragging a dead seal by a rope. As I stood there sort of perplexed someone yelled, "Giviak.!" A great hurrah went up from the crowd. Giviak is like a stuffed turkey but the stuffed stuff are auks and the stuffee is a seal. Well sort of like a stuffed turkey I guess.
If you are interested in adding a traditional festive Eskimo item to your Thanksgiving meal this year it is to late, but if you think it appetizing for next year start now and just follow this simple recipe:
First kill a seal. Then use a long knife to cut around the tip of its nose and separate the meat from the blubber all the way down to its tail, being careful to keep the skin in tact, this is called flensing. Pull the meat from the seal in one quick motion.The meat pulled from the seal is used for a variety of things but is incidental to the preparation of the Giviak. If done properly you will have a seal skin lined only with blubber. Then stuff the seal with freshly dead auks.
A quick wrenching of the neck or pressing on the breast bone to crush the heart of the auk is the best way to kill the bird. If auks are not available you can use parakeets purchased at any pet store.
When the skin is full you sew up the carcass at the nose, and any other spot that the flensing might have punctured, with thread made from the seal's intestines. Dental floss will work also.
Find a secure spot to bury the carcass and cover the grave with stones to provide for heat conduction during the summer. The heat causes a chemical reaction and cooks the auks or parakeets. After one year dig the seal up and if not fully frozen – which will probably be the case in most of the lower 48 – put in the freezer.
Remove from the permafrost or freezer just prior to serving. Take to the gathering and with an ax or hatchet,chop into as many servings as needed to feed the gathering crowd.
The auks or parakeets are eaten first then the blubber. Consume the bird whole and since they still have their feathers, skeleton, and innards in tact be careful to spit same out before swallowing.
The seal skin is saved and given to the kids to chew on like bubble gum. Much better for their teeth.
The giviak went quickly. Being the good host I am, I retreated to the end of the serving line making sure my guests got their fair share first. The Giviak was all eaten before I arrived at the head of the line.
It was just my luck. Life can be so unfair.
Monday, November 22, 2010
My Boy in Blue
The mail is here and it's quite clear
I haven't heard an iota,
From my boy in blue who fights the Sioux
Way up in cold Dakota.
The crazy fool could have gone to school
But he heard the bugle call,
So he took a horse and joined the force
And left real late last fall.
Now it's my guess he's with the best,
So I don't feel to flustered
'bet he's proud to be in the Calvary
Under General George Armstrong Custer.
I haven't heard an iota,
From my boy in blue who fights the Sioux
Way up in cold Dakota.
The crazy fool could have gone to school
But he heard the bugle call,
So he took a horse and joined the force
And left real late last fall.
Now it's my guess he's with the best,
So I don't feel to flustered
'bet he's proud to be in the Calvary
Under General George Armstrong Custer.
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