People and Places on Mars

I share my life here on Mars with many different people. There are teachers, the non profit board, all of the employees that do IT and accounting, administration of the college, HR, M&O, the students and then there are the scientists.

The college sits north of Barrow, and a couple hundred yards from the Arctic Ocean -no further than a quarter mile. You cannot smell the Ocean unless you are right on the shore, but you can taste it in the air sometimes. New people don't spend much time out of doors this time of year. Winter has begun to set in. I have had a small taste of it. Winter is the windy season. But it turns out every season is windy here.

We had a blizzard last week. It was awesome and it didn’t even slow daily life down (although the power outage during it did bring a halt to daily college business. I learned that this means everyone is coming down for lunch.) The wind blows here like it does on the Dakota plains. It wails, it roars, it moans and howls.

The scientists do spend time outdoors, collecting data about the environment or hunting for artifacts and other information about how people have survived here for so long.

In fact these are the two branches of science up here: Ecology and environmental science, which includes the study of the wildlife, and Archeology and Anthropological scientists. They each have a wing of the building and have separate internet and communication systems from the college. I have been told that a few of the scientists are relatively famous, but they all look like just folk to me -Except I did recognize Ted Danson when he came through. He sits on the Oceanic Studies board and was up for a visit about a week ago. Nice man. Very thin, with silver hair.

As you stroll down the hallways of the college and the scientific branches that share this space, there are so many things to look at. There are photos from the 1920-1940 era, depicting whaling and native lifestyles, there are huge maps of Alaska and the world. There is art and artifacts, like the skeleton of a seal that graces the main lobby, along with a polar bear skin and many handmade pairs of mukluks. The remnants of the original marker that marked the spot where Will Rogers met his end is also on display in the lobby. There are environmental data information and wildlife photos. There are baleen poles ranging in length from 4 feet to 8 feet in length. There are old masks and carvings –many, many beautiful and interesting things. Walking down the halls can be like walking through a museum.

Out in front of the main entrance to the building there are two bow-head whale skulls. One is much larger than the other. Baleen is actually the lining of the mouth of the bow head whale. Baleen and whale bone are carved by tribal artists; most of them are tribal elders. They do some amazing carvings and sell them -often donating the money to local and tribal causes.
This past weekend there was a film crew and extras all of whom came to the college kitchen to eat and used the dining room as a staging area to get extras ready for filming. The film is a documentary about whales. We wound up feeding about 80 people. I found myself wondering what the crew thought of Barrow.

One of my co-workers and a friend, Luci, was also wondering. Luci was born in the Philippines. She is 64 years old and works in the kitchen. I haven’t heard how she wound up coming to Barrow yet. There is always a story. Each of us who come here has a story.

Luci said, “They not like Barrow. Not pretty here. Too much junk.”

She is probably right. You have to live with your junk here. Not like home where someone will come and take your junk away and put it somewhere, where you don’t have to see it again. (I am talking junk now, not garbage.) That made me think about the cars I’ve owned. I have owned 6 cars so far. I wonder how the suburbs of Minneapolis would look if we all had to live with our junk? Almost seems like it might be a bit of deterrent to having so much junk.

Living with your junk may not be pretty, but it is a bit more real. Maybe that’s what I like about Barrow –it’s real. From the weather beaten houses up on blocks, to the rusted frames of cars and trucks –all useable parts stripped from them and reused, to the many quansit huts, most of them still used as houses, Barrow is picturesque in its own way.

There are many different ethnic backgrounds represented here; Tongan, Samoan, Hungarian, Inupiat, Filipino, Black, Mexican and other Hispanic cultures, Chinese, Japanese, Hawaiian, Scandinavian, Irish, Italian, Sicilian and more. The people of Mars are a rainbow tribe, who coexist together, sometimes easily and sometimes not. I suspect that living in such a potentially dangerous and hostile environment encourages people to get along. I have not met anyone that I don't like and I’ve met a few that are ready becoming friends.

Businesses are housed in buildings that look like houses. They have that house feel to them. I met a Thai Monk, named Sunni, who has a Thai restaurant in town. When you pull up to the restaurant you almost feel like you are going to visit someone. When you get inside it is like someone’s home, with maybe a larger kitchen and a few extra tables in the living room.

I was out running errands with my boss, Wendy, and Sunni was a former employee, .We stopped so I could meet him. The smell of cooking food was fabulous. It made me think of my sister, Liz and how much she loves Thai food. It also made me think of being in northern Minnesota, where there are many little restaurants and beer joints with exactly this same feel to them. You almost feel like you might be intruding to go inside, but no. The welcome is always warm. There is a certain charm, an ambiance in this that most restaurants have lost.

So I went to run errands and discovered a charming restaurant and a very kind man who runs it. The restaurant is open in the evenings, because Sunni also runs a one man taxi service during the day. The taxi keeps him afloat but the restaurant is his dream. As I mentioned earlier, there is always a story. I want to know all those stories. Why/how do people wind up here in Barrow? I am willing to bet that most of those stories are interesting.

The days are very short now. Sunrise is about Noon-thirty and Sunset is just after 3pm. A few more sunrises, a few more sunsets and then the long night will begin. When the sun sets the cold will gradually become more intense. The moon will still be with us and Orion high in the sky. I think of it as the long solstice, where everyone who lives here must travel through the night to greet the dawn some months away. I wonder who I will meet in the night. More stories.

Why the title reference to Mars?

I recently moved to Barrow, AK. Before that I lived in Minneapolis, Minnesota. (If you look at the picture to the left, you will find Barrow in the bottom left-hand corner. ('A') To the east there is a Lagoon called "Isatkoak" I thought I would be living just south of there in that orange building. But where I am is way up in the right hand corner of the picture. I live at the NE corner of Middle Salt Lagoon in a building that is shaped like an 'H'. This is Ilisagvik College.) My friend John, who lives in Chicago, while looking at the satellite imagery available for the Barrow, AK area said, "Child, this is proof that man could live on Mars." Please understand, this wasn't a negative comment and that it came from a person who dubbed Minnesota as "The Land of Too Far North". You could see how Barrow might as well be Mars for a person who considers Minnesota as 'The Land of Too Far North'. As it turns out this blog is the answer to the question the title asks. Yes, there is Blog on Mars.
Mars is not a bad place. As a matter of fact, it's a good place. In Minneapolis, I never turned anyone's head, but here on Mars I have nearly caused several head on collisions. This is because people coming from two different directions toward the same stop sign got distracted by someone they did not recognize (me). I was standing near the corner smoking. Every vehicle that passed by checked me out. That could perk a girl right up. (unless the comment in the cars were:" iiieee! Who is that strange, ugly, fat woman?" but I am not going there. I prefer to be perked.)
Barrow is a world away from where I come from. It is a contained community in that it sits on the Arctic Ocean and is bordered on all sides by a vast expanse of open plane -the tundra. The climate is high Arctic dessert. Not much rain here. Only about 10 inches of precipitation per year all in the form of snow. The wet season is from September through November. After that the only wet comes from melting snow.
There are no bugs here. No spiders. No millipedes, saw-bugs or silverfish. The do have mosquitoes -for about 2 weeks in late June, and I suppose what eats them is around for that short while and then they are gone too. There are no webs or spider sac eggs on the exterior of the buildings. Nothing of the usual indicators of insect life. No moths. No millers. Flour keeps forever. No weevils. This is part of what living on permafrost is about. The ground never thaws here.
I live in what was once a military installation. They built it and lived here, maybe as part of the dew-line project. There is a strange quansit hut which sits in the middle of a barbed wire perimeter, about a quarter mile out my back door. (I don't remember ever having a mystery in my backyard before.) No one goes there. No one here knows what it's for, although they speculate that it is no longer used. There is a building attached to a dome off to the east about a mile. That is the Dew-line project as it now exists. Access to that entire area is restricted. (more barbed-wire). A reminder to me that this is the area that the 50's move: "The Thing", was supposed to take place up here or near here.
There are no trees here. There is 0 percent humidity most of the time. When it snows it comes down in perfect, fluffy, white, flakes, that sparkle in light. There is a couple inches on the ground now. Enough to track the mad ramblings of the local Arctic Foxes, who live under the buildings, where it is warm and somewhat sheltered from the elements.
There is one fox who lives under the scientific wing of the building, just off the kitchen and dining room who we named Petey. The foxes have little fear of humans and sadly, carry rabies. They are beautiful to see. They have their winter colors right now: White, cream and light smokey gray. No one feeds the foxes because they shit and pee wherever they eat. Stinky. There has been one polar bear siting since I arrived. They sometimes hang out at Middle Salt Lagoon. My windows face that direction. I hope to see one eventually.
The clouds are different here they are low and marked by distant weather systems, that you see, but might not experience. There are phenomena that look like down drafts, as if some portion of the clouds are actually diving into the ocean or ground. People who are born here have little tolerance for heat and humidity. When they travel south they have to watch it until they adjust or heatstroke is a problem, so is breathing in high humidity. It is easier to breathe here. The air is fresh and cold. But the dry is tough on the skin. Very little salt is consumed here and I already get that and why.
And daylight is different here. The coming of the season of darkness is not only marked by the setting of the sun, but also by its rising. It rises later everyday. It is full dark at 8am. by 9 there is twilight and the sun is fully up by 9:30. And the sun sets earlier each day. The darkness comes in full when the time between rising and setting is shortest and takes place below the horizon here. The last visual rising and setting is set for November 18th. When the sun sets that day we will not see sunrise until January 21st. I am curious about what that will be like.
It is whaling season here. The natives hunt Bowhead Whales. They are allowed 12 strikes no more no less. If they use a strike but don't get a whale then they don't get a whale. So far they have taken 5 whales. I did not get to see the butchering of the whales on shore, but in the student lounge there were people feasting on muktuk (pronounced muckchuck) which is raw whale skin and blubber.
They hunt seal and caribou here too. There is a tradition stew called Tuttu that is made with caribou, that I will learn to make and serve here at the cafeteria. There are all kinds of what I think of as 'exotic meats' in the freezer; moose, caribou, reindeer all part of the regular diet here. Reindeer hot link sausage is tasty -especially with sauerkraut.
So here is a taste of life on Mars. It's my first taste and now yours. You may not like it. It may sound a bit desolate, but you know, I've always thought that desolation is a condition of the spirit or soul, if you will, and not of a climate or landscape. If you deal with your own inner desolation then suddenly there is beauty in new places, people and ways of life.