There are a lot of questions about this blog post. Is it an introduction? Do I tell people about myself? Or should I speak about the work I’ve done? I’ve been here six weeks, and I don’t think I could possibly translate the plethora of contrasting feelings and do it the justice it deserves.
Like the volunteers before me, my time at KNOM started with a plane ride. Denver (6 A.M.) to Seattle (9 A.M.) to Anchorage -with layover- (12A.M.) to Kotzebue (5:30 P.M.) to Nome (7:30 P.M.), all in the span of 8 hours. Factor in not sleeping the night before, and then sleeping in three-hour, random spurts, and you have the world’s worst case of jet lag.
The feeling getting off the plane, bathed in pre-solstice midnight sun, is most closely relatable to the feeling one has at the peak of a rollercoaster. It’s fear, excitement, elation, and a complete willingness to plunge into the unknown.
Western Alaska has provided me a lot of opportunity to plunge into the unknown. The kindness the volunteers and I have experienced has been, at times, overwhelming. I am gracious to have explored only an inkling of this unknown with knowledgeable guides. During my time here, I have ventured out to catch salmon, hike mountains, and respect the raw power nature has.
Throughout all these experiences, I still keep the feeling of getting off the plane close to me. When I doubt my abilities to be a good reporter, it serves as a reminder that, with time, I can adjust and improve in any situation as long as I approach it with enthusiasm and an open mind. And as I continue with my year of service in Western Alaska, I look forward to embracing that plane feeling every day.
If you want to learn more about the combination of feelings the group feels, now that we’re on our own, check out the audio blog (at the top)!
