Dancing Hearts

I do apologize for not being able to post more. I don't really know how many people read, but maybe what my goal will be is to put up one new one a week. I should be able to find enough to write about in that span.

Last week- Valentine's Day- what a thrill. Besides getting punched by a student, I ate way too much candy & chocolate(as opposed to drinking way too much wine in years past). I watched students run around, give out valentines to their loved ones & gorge themselves with too much sugar that didn't wear off by Friday. Also, I have been helping coach lately, too. So at 4:00 I had to run up and down the court & actually play against the girls. Oh that felt good. I then went back to my room and sat and read every valentine. There were some really cute ones. One girl wrote me a note saying she was sorry I was "mad and disappointed at the class." I also got a bookmark with a selected writing titled "Don't Give Up". Well, looks like chewing their hides on Monday kinda worked. They had been getting a little out of hand so I decided to let 'em have it, wrote them a nice long note, changed the seating arrangement for the 17th time, and, for the sixth time, changed my discipline plan. It has gotten better. It will continue to improve, too.

On Friday, as a sense of reward for the students, I yuraqed with them. (yuraq = you huck). It is the native dance they do every other day. Some enjoy it and really get into it, some just do it. Me, I get into it. The men sit on their ankles and the girls stand behind them, all facing the drummer(s). We have a yuraq teacher that comes in every day and helps. Each song tells a story and like all types of music, some are sad songs (my favorite), some happy, some funny, some are stories of hunting, and some are stories that I can't quite comprehend. One that was pretty fun was where we were hunting for some sort of animal. After we shot him, we would chew on it's fat, spat it into our hand, and wipe it on our shoes. The actions then go to the dancers flying down the slopes as if they are skiing and ending up laying on their sides aching. You can pick up most of this just watching or else you can ask the elders what it means. I had to ask the elder. I just couldn't understand why I had to spit in my hand right before falling over yelling.

I ate walrus today. So add that to fish eggs, salmon ice cream, fish casserole, and seal oil. It is the size of the top two joints on a fore finger. The first 2/5 is a chunk of fat, the second 2/5 is the fatty meat, and the last 1/5 is walrus hair. Due to my recent sickness, I chose not to eat the fat section, even though all the Natives were saying it was the best part. I gnawed on the fatty meat part. Both hands and my entire face were covered in oil. I looked around for some sort napkin. Nothing. Then I looked at everyone eating all this oily food. They too were covered in oil, but figured since the next bite they took meant they would be covered in oil once again, they just kept eating. About 15 minutes later I noticed something in my teeth... I scraped it out. Walrus Hair.

My stomach is still churning.

Well, Happy President's Day. Go GW & Lincoln.