I’m going to go back to Alaska.<\/p>\n
I need Chris to see what it’s like. Now that he is legally bound to me by marraige, I guess it’s safe to show him where I grew up.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I tell you, I have learned to consider by upbringing to make me an american citizen immigrant. The task I’ve had to take on to assimilate to life stateside is monumental. I just kinda have to think of myself as F.O.B.<\/p>\n
What’s equal parts cute and infuriating is when people tell me, “But you seem fine.” <\/p>\n
Sure, I don’t have a thick accent. And I have learned to manuever obvious social situations. ‘Thank you’ and ‘please’ are part of my daily vocabulary.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
But the fact is, I can never take these pillars of civilized, democratic freedoms for granted. I see them in a way the stateside born do not. It’s kinda like seeing your own nose. I see it here, and everyone else is going “What? What do you mean?”<\/p>\n
The uninterrupted continuance of water, electricity, roads and fast food restaraunts are not a given. The willingness of ‘the government’ to act–for good or ill–should not be assumed.<\/p>\n
There are good sides and bad sides to population density. It’s nice that a whole bunch of people can sustain a municipal symphony. It’s not so great that traffic keeps us all going 20 miles an hour on the freeway. <\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
So I’ll be going back to Alask in June. A short<\/em> visit, just long enough to show my husband the house I grew up in, and Denali. Swing by Juneau on the way out, then back to solid civilized ground again.<\/p>\n People have asked, “Will you see animals in Denali?”<\/p>\n “Maybe. Probably.”<\/p>\n “Will you see bears?”<\/p>\n God, I hope not. It’s a bad thing when you see a bear. Bears are things that want to chew you. Avoid bears. If you see fresh signs of bear, LEAVE<\/em>. Turn around and skate in the opposite skating direction.<\/p>\n Bears should be left alone.<\/p>\n I do expect we will see Mooses and Caribouses. That will be fine.<\/p>\n Mom wanted to hear about the trip. “Tell me about it. I want to live vicariously through your adventure.”<\/p>\n She moved to Alaska. She isn’t from there and still doesn’t count as a native, in my opinion. It was always exotic to her. She always saw the nose on it’s face.<\/p>\n I tell her where we will be staying.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n “We have friends you could probably stay with,” she suggests. I know she is trying to save us the cost of a hotel.<\/p>\n But a hotel is worth the price for me.<\/p>\n “I am actually hoping to not see anyone I know on this trip,” I tell her.<\/p>\n “Oh…but they love you.” SHe is disappointed.<\/p>\n Yes, I am sure ‘they’ have fond memories of me. But love stretches my credulity. In the more than 20 years since I left, I would expect love to stay a little bit in touch.<\/p>\n What I want to see is the forest. I want to look at the birch and willow trees. I want to see the streams and the lakes. I want to show Chris how to approach a swamp.<\/p>\n He did not grow up around any kind of swamp.<\/p>\n I want him to know the fireweed and the devil’s club and if they are there in June,I want him to see the salmon swimming.<\/p>\n The land, that’s what he should see.<\/p>\n That’s the point.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I’m going to go back to Alaska. I need Chris to see what it’s like. Now that he is legally bound to me by marraige, I guess it’s safe to show him where I grew up. I tell you, … Continue reading