after the fisheries

I never got a chance to attend the fisheries meetings, as they took place mostly during the day when I was working.  However, in honor of the event and the visitors, there was Eskimo dancing two nights in a row at the village hall.  The second night included a huge potluck dinner, Eskimo dancing, and then what is referred to up here as 'fiddle dancing' to polish off the night.

This was the first time I had seen Eskimo dancing, and I asked someone nearby if taking pictures would be considered rude or inappropriate in any way; he replied that the dancers would more likely find it flattering, so I snapped away, and the results are here.  Ah, I see the first picture in that set is Jan, a new friend who lives here at the Hilton most of the time.  She's an early childhood specialist for the district and travels around to the different villages trying to convince parents that they should talk to, read to, and play with their children.  As you might expect, she reports that many have no need of this advice because they're already doing it, while those who have the greatest need of the message are generally least likely to internalize it.  Like many high-poverty areas, rural and urban alike, the Bush sees many people having babies very young and frequently unprepared.  It also sees a great deal more involvement of extended family and community than you would ever find in the suburbs; they say it takes a village to raise a child, and these are true villages.  So there are advantages and disadvantages--a mixed bag, as always.  Getting back to the picture at right, this one is of Jan's new guspuk and gloves, just beautiful!  She was dressed up for the party.  The guspuk is a traditional hooded over-shirt with decorative trim and a large front pocket.  Nowadays they are made from all manner of beautifully colored and patterned fabrics.  There are local and individual variations in the general pattern, as well as how the pocket is structured and where the trim pieces are placed.

I made a batch of popcorn for the potluck with butter and salt and yeast and a little black pepper.  I definitely got the better deal--various dishes of rice and chicken and lots of wonderful fish.  Happily, my popcorn disappeared in short order, so I got to feel that my modest contribution was appreciated.

And then the dancing.  I had never seen Eskimo dancing and didn't know what to expect, but I found it beautiful and compelling.  Each song has a dance that goes with it, and together they appear to tell a story, although I have not yet learned any of the stories.    The accompaniment is from wide, shallow drums that are played in a firm, steady rhythm with what look like willow switches.  As you see in the pictures, the drummers/singers sit in a row at the back, and the dancers gather in front of them.  

Each song started with the man in the center beating a slow, soft one-beat and singing quietly.  He would go once through the song by himself before the other singer-drummers joined, and shortly after, the dancers would begin filtering out onto the floor.  Each dance consisted of a choreographed series of movements performed by all the dancers in unison.  Certain movements in the dances remind me of the stereotypical Hawaiian hula you might see in the movies; others called to mind Tai Chi, and overall, the closest thing I can compare one of these dances to is a kata. 

At first, the drumming was slow, the singing soft, and the dancing gentle and reserved.  The song might last only a minute or two, but it would be repeated numerous times before they finished, and with each successive repetition it grew louder and louder, the rhythm faster, the dancers more animated, the drums and singing more and more intense, until I could feel a bodily jolt with each sharp, shocking drum beat, and the more enthusiastic dancers were positively thrashing the air with their fans.  The whole effect was deeply compelling and moving.

I may be exaggerating somewhat; only a couple of the most intense dancers got really wild, and only in a couple of the most intense songs.  The lovely little old lady in the center above was a wonderful dancer, but although she finished each song with more exaggerated movements than she started with, she could not reasonably be said to 'thrash' anything.  Nonetheless, that steady drum beat, growing gradually to a crescendo, with the continuing repetition of dances that beckoned with hidden meaning, made for a very powerful experience.

One of the many visitors in town for the fisheries meetings was this man, an Athabaskan Native from the Alaskan interior.  He spoke at length about the meaning of his wardrobe and the traditions of his culture.  Some notable details that have stuck with me:  a ceremonial ladle made from a hand-carved sheep's horn; beads and fur trim on his gloves; and the front feet of a wolf hanging from his shoulders.  Unfortunately, I can't remember much about the headdress, the most immediately striking feature; I think it was largely fox and contained eagle feathers.

I remember a bit more about the drum, for he spent a good deal of time on the topic.  The painting is Raven, who created the world in Athabaskan tradition, hence the sun shining from his mouth, giving light to the creation.  He then explained that these days, when he looks at this image,

he tends to think of our responsibilities as stewards of the world we have been given.  If we continue to neglect and abuse our lands and our waters, he said, he imagines that one day Raven may simply close his mouth, and we will be left in the dark again.












Later in the evening, Eskimo dancing gave way to fiddle dancing.  The band might have been at home in an average Northern Wisconsin bar, playing a kind of country rock with the amps turned up way too loud for the small space.  The biggest difference would have to be that no self-respecting bar band would be caught dead playing a venue with no beer.  This being a dry village, there is no alcohol of any kind, in public.  (They make home brew, of course.)  A good solid band though, and the drummer turned out to be my basketball buddy Dmitri, who coaches the girls' varsity team.

'Fiddle dancing' itself is a kind of lopsided two-step with an odd pause that leads to stepping on the off beat during every second measure.  This looked kind of strange to me, but they do it very well.  The band played some familiar songs, some not so, and I think it must have been a mix of classic rock and 'new country' because at one point I realized I was sitting through 'Achy Breaky Heart,' my all-time least favorite song.  Strangely enough, I didn't mind it at all, because they played it in exactly the same style as all their other songs, making no attempt at all to 'sound country' or mimic the detestable voice of B____ ___ _____.

The lead singer, incidentally, was a showman extraordinaire.  Below, red baseball cap.  I can't possibly begin to describe him, so let it simply be said for the record:  he was awesome.

They played a bunch of different stuff, some faster, some slower, a couple of nice waltzes.  Mostly couples dancing, but on one occasion I think everybody was doing the Electric Slide; on another, country line dancing.  (I kind of closed my eyes for that one.  I have my own prejudices I guess.)  My favorite part by far was when, in the middle of their set, they played a loud, rockin, upbeat Eskimo song.  The singer started singing in Yupik, and the ladies all rushed up to dance.

No, wait, my favorite part was seeing one of my students, a sixth-grader named Travis, dancing up a storm all freaking night.  He was up there repeatedly during the Eskimo dancing, and as soon as the band started I saw him dancing with an old woman I figured must be his grandma.  Then I thought twice when I saw him dancing with a different old woman, minutes later.  Maybe both grandmas?  But lo, over the course of the evening he danced with a couple different middle aged women, some very attractive young women, and finally even a girl his own age.  How cool is that?  Well, it's past my bedtime, so I'll finish this beast with a little photographic ode to Travis.  (Sadly, I've just discovered I didn't get a shot of him dancing with his classmate)