A blog by Bill Hess

Running Dog Publications

P.O. Box 872383 Wasilla, Alaska 99687

 

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Wasilla

Wasilla is the place where I have lived for the past 29 years - sort of. The house in which my wife and I raised our family sits here, but I have made my rather odd career as a different sort of photojournalist by continually wandering off to other places to photograph people and gather information, which I have then put together in various publications that have served the Alaska Native Eskimo, Indian and Aleut communities.

Although I did not have a great of free time to devote to this rather strange community, named after a Tanaina Athabascan Indian chief who knew Wasilla in the way that I so impossibly long to, I have still documented it regularly over the past quarter-century plus. In the early days, my Wasilla photographs focused mostly upon my children and the events they participated in - baseball, football, figure skating, hockey, frog catching, fire cracker detonation, Fourth of July parade - that sort of thing. 

In 2002, I purchased my first digital camera and then, whenever I was home, I began to photograph Wasilla upon a daily basis, but not in a conventional way. These were grab shots - whatever caught my eye as I took my many long walks or drove through the town, shooting through the car window at people and scenes that appeared and disappeared before I could even focus and compose in the traditional photographic way.

Thus, the Wasilla portion of this blog will be devoted both to the images that I take as I wander about and those that I have taken in the past. Despite the odd, random, nature of the images, I believe they communicate something powerful about this town that I have never seen expressed anywhere else. 

Wasilla is a sprawling community that has been slapped down hodge-podge upon what was so recently wilderness of the most exquisite beauty. In its design, it is deliberately anti-zoned, anti-planned. In the building of Wasilla, the desire to make a buck has trumped aesthetics and all other considerations. This town, built in the midst of exquisite beauty, has largely become an unsightly, unattractive, mess of urban sprawl. Largely because of this, it often seems to me that Wasilla is a community with no sense of community, a town devoid of town soul.

Yet - Wasilla is my home and if I am lucky it will be until I grow old and die. Despite its horrific failings, it is still made of the stuff of any small city: people; moms and dads, grammas and grampas, teens, children, churches, bars, professionals, laborers, soldiers, missionaries, artists, athletes, geniuses, do-gooders, hoodlums, the wealthy, the homeless, the rational and logical, the slightly insane and the wholly insane - and, yes, as is now obvious to the whole world, politicians, too.

So perhaps, if one were to search hard enough, it might just be possible to find a sense of community here, and a town soul. So, using my skills as a photojournalist and a writer, I hope to do just that. If this place has a sense of community, I will find it. If there is a town soul to Wasilla, I will document it. I won't compete with the newspapers. Hell no! But as time and income allow, it will be fun to wander into the places where the folks described above gather, and then put what I find on this blog.

 

by 300...

Anywhere within a 300 mile radius of Wasilla. This encompasses perhaps the most wild, dramatic, gorgeous, beautiful section of land and sea to be found in any comparable space anywhere on Earth. I can never explore it all, but I will do the best that I can, and will here share what I find and experience with you.  

and then some...

Anywhere else in the world that I happen to get to, such as Point Lay, Alaska; Missoula, Montana; Serenki, Chukotka, Russia; or Bangalore, India. Perhaps even Lagos, Nigeria. I have both a desire and scheme to get me there. It is a long shot. We shall see if I succeed.

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« A saree for Melanie (part 2) - traveling and snacking in Bangalore | Main | Melanie and Buddy at the banyan tree »
Wednesday
May272009

A saree for Melanie (part 1); two girls show me their bull; Sanju rides the bus

Melanie needs a saree to wear to Soundarya's wedding. Vasanthi, our most generous host, has saree material just waiting. She shows a sample as little Sanju walks through the room. If Melanie looks tired, just remember that the two of us had just finished a 41 hour trip from Alaska to India.

We were both tired.

Vasanthi drapes a saree-in-the-rough over Melanie. Melanie likes it. Next, we must go to the tailor to get it fitted.

We are going to walk to the tailor now, and then we will catch a bus into downtown Bangalore to do some more shopping for saree material. Jesse, Buddy's mom, helps little Sanju into her sandals.

Jesse, originally from Malayasia, runs a small school for little children. She used to hold it right here, in the living room of her sister and brother-in-law, Vasanthi and Murthy. Sanju was one of her students. Sanju has graduated now and moved on, but she sees Murthy, Vasanthi, Jesse and household as her own family and so comes over almost daily just to hang out, to love, and be loved.

 

 

 

Sanju walks with Jesse as Melanie follows.

Vasanthi leads us to the tailor, but his little shop is closed for the day. So we walk a little further and there is another tailor, in a tiny, open-faced shop. That's how it is in India. Little tiny shops, everywhere. 

As I photograph Melanie, I feel someone tap my elbow. I turn and see these two girls. Although they do not speak much English and I know nothing of their language, they let me know they want me to photograph them with their *bull.

Murthy tells me that India has more than 700 active, indigenous, languages. 

After I take their picture, I show it to them on my camera's LCD monitor. They are most pleased. "Beautiful!" they say, "thank you." Then they walk away, waving as they go.

Sanju, Jesse, and some other little kid at the bus stop.

Sanju and Jesse ride the bus toward downtown Bangalore. I will continue this story shortly, meanwhile...

...I jump ahead to today, right here in Wasilla, Alaska, USA, where I took a ten-mile bike ride after I ate breakfast at Carl's Jr. My first two days back home were filled with warmth and sun, but today it rained.

The rain in India is warm, but this rain was cold. It felt good. I thoroughly enjoyed it. When I got home, I took a hot shower. I enjoyed that, too.

*I originally referred to this little bull as a cow, but was corrected by Sandy's cousin, Kavitha V. Kavitha wrote:

"In India the bulls are used for ploughing the fields, the bulls that are born with large humps and disablities are not used for ploughing.  These bulls are decorated and brought from house to house accompained with music. It is considered aspicious when a bull visits a house. In ancient India, people used to worship thier livestock. It was only after the white revolution beef eating came into picture. Now it is considered as a form of beggary."

 

 

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Reader Comments (2)

:) Lovely!

May 28, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterVijay

Amazing post - and great photos throughout the blog. I'm planning to move to Wasilla in the next couple months if I get the job I'm flying up to interview for at the end of this month. (coming from Oreogn). Thanks for giving me a sweet taste of the place I soon hope to be calling home.

January 17, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterbelladonna

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