Each summer, a very special gathering happens along the Bering Strait. Children from across Western Alaska travel miles – by plane, boat, or four-wheeler – to join Camp Igaliq, a retreat designed to keep Native traditions alive in young hearts.
This year, camp was set up on the banks of the Arctic River, 16 miles southeast of Shishmaref, where colorful tents brightened the tundra and the sound of laughter carried over the water. The mornings began with the aroma of breakfast drifting from the cook tent, and with bug spray freshly applied, the campers set out on adventures like boating up the Serpentine River.
Over three days, 17 young people from Shishmaref, Shaktoolik, and Elim learned survival skills, practiced subsistence activities, and listened to the wisdom of elders. Every day, they set nets for salmon, then pitched in to haul water, collected trash, and washed dishes – always keeping an eye on the nets in case the river offered up its bounty.
For many, the heart of camp was 83-year-old Clifford Weyiouanna, an elder from Shishmaref who was born near this very site. Sitting by the fire, he told stories of life, hardships, and survival on the land. “Those small pieces of advice and encouragement – they stick with us the rest of our lives,” said Donna Barr, Tribal Coordinator for the Native Village of Shishmaref, “I think it’s really important to hear stories of survival from our elders.”
Cell service was non-existent, and no one missed it. “The kids had to set aside their phones and really figure out, you know, I might get bored, but what can I do?’” said Shishmaref resident Tyler Ivanoff. “And then they really joined the activities.”
Kawerak Wellness Director, Kimberly Ayek, said the children enjoyed a variety of camp foods but it was the Indigenous delights that the kids really raved for. “But then there was also dried ugruk. There was half dried ugruk, we actually had a big old tub of seal oil with the ugruk and fermented walrus blubber, and intestines,” Ayek said.
They may live hundreds of miles apart, but now they have a bond. They have a friend in another village. And those connections – just like the stories of our elders – can last a lifetime and beyond.
