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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Thursday
Jul012010

ICC Nuuk, Greenland, part 4: Stories, both ancient and new, are carried in the songs of the people

Hivshu Robert Peary began his life in Siorapaluk, Greenland, the northernmost community in the world and when he speaks of his people's history he makes clear the ties that bind one people spread across so vast a distance as the Arctic of Russia, Alaska, Canada and Greenland. He tells of a time when his ancestors were living near where the village of Kaktovik, Alaska, sits today when they divided up to fish for arctic char and salmon. A group that he refers to as "The Elders" began to move east until they reached Greenland.

white They brought their songs and dances, some of which are still performed today in each nation.

"I was raised up among hunters, telling me the stories, and then the white man took me away from my parents when I was 9 years old," Hivshu says. He was first sent to a boarding school not too far from the village, but at the age of 12 was sent to Denmark.  "They were trying to teach me the life of the man." Hivshu questioned what he was being taught should replace his own life. "I was trying to tell teachers, 'you were teaching us from one man's way of understanding. My knowlege and wisdom is 50,000 years old from my ancestors.'

"'I am trying to tell you that but you don't believe me, you want to stick with the book and tell what it is about. When it is not right, I cannot take it as something I want to keep, so you keep it, I go home, be among the people, my people, learn more about the wisdom of life, because I was supposed to tell the stories and sing the songs.'"

When he first learned to dance as a young man, Hivshu, who is now 54, kept it secret, but then decided he needed to go before the very people who had sought to take his culture from him.

"I began to understand that the white man never understood our dance. It is very important for me to tell the white man why we are doing that. We are not cultural clowns. When they want festivites, to have entertainment, 'you entertain us and we'll eat.' I don't do that. You can get some other people who are entertaining.'

"'I am telling about life. I'm telling and dancing and singing about life. It's too important for me. When you are eating, just talking to each other. It will be like I am talking to no one at all. If you are not listening, I go. Try another to entertain you while you are eating.'"

In 1999, Hivshu met "some scientists" from the University of Copenhagen who wanted to rewrite a book about his people that was done in the 1930's. He told them the book was not accurate. They asked him to spend a year-and-half working with them, but he told them a year-and-half would not belong enough.

In 2002, he began to work with the scholars on the book. He is living in Sweden to complete the book, because, he says, if he goes home he will be out hunting and fishing and will never get it written.

Hivshu gets his name from his great-grandfather, the polar explorer Admiral Robert E. Peary, who had two son's with Hivshu's great-grandmother.

After he danced, Hivshu spotted a young man named Shane from Canada's Northwest Territories who he had seen perform the night before with the Inuvialuit Drummers Dancers. He walked over to him and draped his arm over his shoulder. "I'm proud of you," he said. "He's young, look at him. He's young,  keeping our traditions and songs and dances. He's a perfect example of young people trying their best to keep our ancestors way of life. Eighteen years old and he wants to dance his way of life, to understand life is dancing and singing. and telling the people, the beautiful dances of our people, our ancestors, life and universe.:

"That's my culture," Shane beamed. "It was my grandfather's that made me start dancing. I love it."

Shane, performing with the Inuvialuit Drummers and Dancers.

Inuivialuit drummer, Phillip Elanik.

The Kuugmiut Dancers from Wainwright, Alaska - Betty Ann Bodfish, Ardyce Nayakik, Iqaluk Nayakik and her very popular daughter, Raquel.

McRidge Nayakik and Iqaluk Nayakik, Kuugmiut Dancers, Wainwright. 

Jimmy Kagak drums for Kuugmiut Dancers. 

After their performances, Wainwright and Inuvialuit gathered together in the middle of floor to do an invitational dance. All present were invited to join them.

In this picture there are faces from Russia, Alaska, Canada and Greenland, all dancing together.

Three Russian Inuit girls, dancing in front of the Wainwright Drums.

Afterward, Hanne Qvist and Leif Immanuelson of Nuuk performed on the fiddle and according. Leif is originally from Kangersuatsiaq in north Greenland and only recently moved to Nuuk. He learned to play the accordion as child and notes that there are several accordion and fiddle players from his village.

The instruments were introduced to them by commercial whale hunters. "They wanted to teach us how to polka," he explains. Even as the whale hunters introduced the new instruments, a zealous priest went through the village, gathered up all the Inuit drums and burned them.

Leif is proud that, at this ICC, he beat his traditional drum in the opening ceremonies. When he first learned to drum, he would perform only with a mask on his face. "Now I am more confident. I drum in the open," he says.

Soon, many in the crowd spun about the floor in a vigorous square dance.

Jack Hopstad, fiddler - Alaska's Kuskowkwim Fiddle Band. Here, he plays the lonesome "Eagle Island Blues," an Athabascan love song written by a trapper wintering on the Yukon River's Eagle Island. He is missing the woman he loves.

As I listened to the longing that came out of Jack's fiddle, I found myself missing her, too.

Three little girls, loving the Kuskokwim Fiddle Band.

Anthony Shields, base guitarist for the Kuskokwim Fiddle Band.

Kuskokwim Fiddle Band lead guitarist Bobby Gregory puts his whole soul into the classic, "Take the Ribbon From Your Hair." Each time he repeated the verse,

I don't care what's right or wrong, 
I don't try to understand.
Let the devil take tomorrow. 
Lord, tonight I need a friend...

he brought the crowd to a cheering scream.

When he sang it, everyone could understand.

 

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Reader Comments (8)

that's a really good way that Hivshu Robert Peary explained it...if you've ever been to Celebration in Juneau...you see it's not entertainment...(although it's fun to watch)...it's a connection. the feeling runs deep. another great post...thanks for all you do bill. the attempt to stamp out indigenous cultures appears to have been a worldwide event. glad i'm living in a time when these great cultures are so strong.

July 1, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterdahli22

Thank you, Bil, for all you share with us. I love sharing your "view" of wherever you go.

July 1, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterGrandma Nancy

This entire post is wonderful, but especially the story of Hivshu Robert Peary.

July 2, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterMichelle

hey that's pretty neat u got a photo of my dad up there!!! and a good shot too!!!!! thanks!!!

July 2, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterson

When the book that Hivshu Robert Peary is working on is completed, I would love to read it.

July 4, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterWhiteStone

Bobby is MY friend.

July 5, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterGalina

I haven't visited your blog for a while due to recent familial events and had no idea that you were in Greenland. I've had Greenland heavily on my mind this past week. Funny.

What a great opportunity. It's wonderful to read your reports on yet another part of this incredible world.

July 5, 2010 | Unregistered CommenterShaela

There's nothing wrong with inuit way of life! Life has never been wrong. Life is to live a life and receive it as it is. Life is so: light and dark. And dark doesn't mean bad as the Creation is created by one Creator and nothing can't be created without the Creator created it. There's no Evil after life, the only Evil is man made.
Believe in Life and when it is tough ask your ancestors for power to get through the tough life and our prayer will be send to the Creator.
My gratitude to my ancestors for given me songs and faith in Life and Creation that we all are brothers and sisters.
May your wish in your life be received. hivshu

July 9, 2010 | Unregistered Commenterhivshu

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