Unheard Voices
Putting together a new world
Click on Archives: Feb/Mar 2006 to see the contents of this month’s paper.
By Geoff Bederson
Every person is a world, and each is imbued with significance that is practically impossible to comprehend. It’s a little sad when this significance is not recognized, or when we pass potential soul-mates with a glance.
As Harry describes in his editorial on page 2, there is something beautiful and still alive in many Alaskan communities, in spite of the trauma of the past couple of hundred years. These gentle souls are right here, right now. All we need do is open our eyes, and listen. And when we talk, let’s speak about our own truths.
Elena Ransum: I grew up in Kipnuk, a town close to Bethel, ten to fifteen miles from the Bering Sea. It’s over five hundred miles out of Anchorage. I lived there from 1966, when I was born, until Jan 1, 1998, when I finally decided to come to Anchorage.
I am Yupik Eskimo.
There are two corporations in Kipnuk: Calista Corporation and Kugkaktalik Ltd. Corporation. Kugkaktalik owns the grocery store, merchandise store, and gas station. There is a Moravian Church in Kipnuk.
What was your childhood like?
Mostly in my childhood I used to walk all the time. My Dad taught me how to survive. He taught me how to operate a snow machine and boat. We use the lakes in the summer for fishing and hunting. In the wintertime, we use snowmobiles or walk.
My Mom taught me how to make baskets. I completed from kindergarten to 8th grade. I quit at ninth grade, at about sixteen years of age.
I got out of my parents when I was seventeen years of age. I was taking care of family.
What was it like growing up in the village?
I used to think that there was nothing to do in the village. No arcades for the little kids to run around. I couldn’t talk to anybody. I would go all around the village.
Most of the people hide their feelings. They don’t know about right and wrong. There is no discipline. There is touching - I know a lot of people who experienced being sexually abused. And they won’t even talk about it. It’s really hard.
I experienced it, and I tried saying something about it. But I was told to leave it alone, to let it go. I had to get away from my hometown for that reason, too.
Drinking came along. I tried it out, when I was twelve years old. I wanted to have fun, like the other kids. My first experience was Canadian Mist, and then we served whiskey, and Budweiser. I drank a couple of glasses, and then I passed out. I woke up in a sleep-off. I was just twelve years old! And I lied about my age, so they let me go.
I had seen my Dad drinking most of the time. He’s been sober about fifteen years now.
I got married when I was sixteen. I fell in love with this one person. I thought it was the love of my life, forever. He died on the way back from his school in Denver, Colorado. He was drinking. He was found hanged on a statue in front of the Captain Cook Hotel. To me he wouldn’t kill himself, though the police called it a suicide. I don’t believe that. I think it was a setup.
You must know of a lot of tragic stories.
Mostly during the summers there’s drownings, related to alcohol. It might be suicide, or it might be accidental. There is domestic violence. Most of it is caused by alcohol. There wouldn’t be a lot people going into prison if it weren’t for alcohol.
My hometown is dry, but people bring it in somehow. I don’t know how it is now, but they used to make homebrew.
The only way that a native person copes is to numb the feeling with alcohol. That’s what I did. Numb my pain.
A lot of Eskimo culture was lost, but not much of Western culture has come.
There should be a combination of the Eskimo and the Modern. The old culture doesn’t seem to help people now. I don’t know what the elders thought. I never even had a chance to ask my Mom.
I speak Yupik. Most do speak Eskimo in the villages. I speak in my own language to my parents. Younger ones are speaking English. Three of my kids can understand my language, two don’t. Yupik is starting to be gone. There’s English mostly.
What do you think could be done to help the villagers?
It would be best for them if there were a place for the children and teenagers to hang around. Like an arcade. Fast food. There’s no fast food there. Most of the kids during the summer time, they have a place to play basketball. There is a basketball court.
They just put a laundromat there. It’s going to be really fun for everybody. A long time ago they tried to open it up, but people said that it was no good, a lot of girls will start getting pregnant. Yeah! I have no idea why. They thought it would be a wild place. That’s not true. They have needed a laundromat for a long time.
Now, we wash clothes at home and hang them up outside, even in the middle of the winter.
Why did you leave Kipnuk?
I didn’t have a career to strive for, no goals. No adults schools, nothing. No jobs. Most of the people know basket weaving and bead work, hunting. But that’s not enough. People feel helpless or worthless. There’s nothing for me there.
When my first husband died, in 1990, I was on my own. From then on, I took care of my kids, trying to support my own family. Doing men’s work, hauling water, hauling ice in the winter, using the hand to pump the snow machine gas.
What has it been like living in Anchorage?
I like being here, meeting new people or trying to live on my own with my significant other. There’s more jobs, there’s things for me to do, everyday. There’s a lot of creative stuff. I like living like that. If there was no America, we would have none of that. No stores. We wouldn’t be sleeping on beds, we would be sleeping on the ground. There would be no TV or music. I even know how to go on the computer.
When I moved to Anchorage I learned how to drive a car. I told myself, wow, this is a new thing for me. When my family comes here I drive them around, and go shopping, and they’re really happy. It’s getting me lazy to go on my own feet! But I like it this way. It’s new for me. It takes me anywhere. It got me a job, a couple of times.
You seem very good natured, very kind, sweet.
I’ve learned that from my parents. My Dad used to tell me, Don’t ever treat a human being wrong. You’re a human being.
I don’t see anybody different. They’re human beings, like me, even though they’re different. I don’t see the difference between Natives and others. My Mom and Dad taught me how to do that. Who you are - you’re a human being.
What is the origin of your medical problems?
It’s related to the use of alcohol. I used to drink a lot, and it affected my health. That’s what I was told. When my liver and pancreas go up, I have to be in the hospital. That’s the only way they can be controlled, by I.V. I’m taking about six different kinds of pills, medications. I’ve been taking these for about eight years now. I have no idea how serious it is.
I’ve been sober for quite awhile. I don’t miss drinking at all.
What do you care about?
I do care about my life. I like being on my own. I like going places, and that I don’t have to use my legs in the big city. When I need something in the house, I can just go to the store and get it.
Sometimes I get tired sitting down, making baskets. But I’m making different shapes of baskets, now. My Mom sends me the straw.
My dream used to be medical, medical assistant. But not now. I wish I had more education, even though I graduated with a GED. Reading keeps me learning more.
I like to cook. My kids love to eat what I cook. Every time I go home, once or twice a year, I cook. The last time I lasted only two months.
They want me to come back. I miss my hometown, but whenever I think about it I remember that there’s nothing to do there.
