We’re headed back down to South America to spend the next two weeks in remote Peru, visiting with the Machiuengan and Ashaninka people in the community of Timpia (12 04 50 S – 72 49 18 W) located on the Urabamba River. Our first visit to this vast and bio-diverse region was two years ago when we went into the Amazon to meet with these tribes and learn about their ever-changing environment. We made great friends while there and learned that these incredible people share many of our concerns for the environment and it’s future. “Something is wrong with the fish” is what we were initially told so we’re in to help them figure this out.

When we first arrived at the Urubamba River, we were told . “Something is wrong with the fish.” So we’re in to help them figure this out. (Photo by Mary Marshall)

Our meeting with the Tribal Leadership and members from the area while there will help us lay the groundwork the official kick-off of our NIK Project – the Network of Indigenous Knowledge, which we’ll have up and operational when we return to Peru in the fall. Creating an environmental network among the people of this region and the Alaska Native and Canadian First Nations people is the start of the global connection, and the true focus of The Healing Journey. This network will ultimately combine the collection of modern scientific environmental date with Indigenous knowledge from Indigenous societies around the globe, creating an accurate, informative and colorful picture of the condition of our planet.

The cultural exchange will be phenomenal and an integral part of this process and we are simply thrilled to be so close to actually connecting via satellite and other technologies these tribes who literally are worlds away from one another, yet who often share equally impactful environmental challenges.

Beginning on 23 May, you can go to our SPOT link to follow us on this latest Journey.

A satellite view shows where the Tribes will gather for one of the
Healing Journey and NIK meetings. (Map from Google Earth)

Watch for an update here in mid-June during the National Geographic Explorers’ Symposium on how things went in Peru and what the People of Timpia have on their minds. Also, become a part of this! Offer your suggestions, insight and ideas regarding our efforts in Peru! This is all about our connections!

As always, thanks for reading ~
Jon

NEXT: More From Jon Waterhouse

—–

“I feel like I’m waking from a dream, but I’m still in a dream!”
The Healing Journey Continues…

As always when Mary and I visit rural Alaska, I’m thrilled and amused to see her reaction to the things most people never experience in the cities of the Lower 48, or outside of Alaska, for that matter. Even after many trips to the village communities with me, these sights still evoke wonder and surprise in her. For instance, one might expect to see schoolyards with large parking lots and metal racks of bicycles, but out here there are no bikes, racks or parking lots. There are clusters of snow-machines and 4-wheelers crowded around school entrances. Also, upon entering a colorful elementary school classroom in rural Alaska after the school day has ended, you may discover – as Mary did- 2 first graders and their teacher, donned in surgical gloves and holding surgical instruments. What are they doing? you may wonder… Well, you’ll never guess. They were carefully dissecting a snow goose on top of a school desk! (Oh, and that goose would be going to dinner later.)

This snow goose is 1st, a science project, and 2nd, a dinner. The surprise here is the age of the two students dissecting it – both age 6. (Photo by Mary Marshall)

As I write this post, we are at the Russian Mission School in Russian Mission, Alaska (61.7856N, 161.3342W), a rural learning facility which boasts an enrollment of approximately 150 students, K-12. This state-of-the-art school is just 4 years old and is perched on a hillside, it’s huge windows overlooking the village and the Yukon River below. It’s size and shiny new appearance on the hill is the first thing you’ll notice as you fly into this community of about 320 mostly Yup’ik people.

Snow machines and 4-wheelers crowd the entrances of most rural Alaska schools in winter. (Photo by Mary Marshall)

Upon entering the school, we ascended wide stairs to the main level where the students here shed their bulky arctic gear and begin their day. On the high walls around this open lobby are the photos – a breathtaking collection, probably 6′x4′ each in size – covering much of a 2-story mass of sheetrock. The first image visible directly at the top of the stairs is stunning – it’s of a young Yup’ik teen holding her rifle and sitting on the large bull moose she has obviously just downed. Hunting is a substantial part of the traditional lifestyle here. Having been a Native hunter myself, I get why the school embraces this aspect of the culture. Connecting to nature and the environment through traditional Native pursuits helps the youth understand their place and responsibility within the circle of life. And given that Native People would rather live off the land as they always have -rather than pay high prices for low quality, preservative laden and chemically/genetically- altered, pre-packaged foods in the village stores, it makes sense. Snow machines and guns are now part of their more modern lifestyle, yet the people continue to maintain their strong connection to the natural world and they do well with respecting and preserving it.

The Russian Mission School encourages the outdoor abilities of its students with these large photos displayed through-out the school. (Photo by Mary Marshall)

The other giant photos in this impressive collection depict students on a variety of field trips, but instead of perusing museums, visiting manufacturing plants, or sports events, they are trapping, ice-fishing and hunting. Well, with one or two snow-boarding shots tossed in. In recent years a group of students, teachers and Elders even ventured to Hawaii on one trip and to Japan on another to connect with other Indigenous people, and there are large photos from those trips as well, telling the stories of their journeys. The entire array is not only striking, but truly thought-provoking, especially for any visitor not accustomed to village life.

The traditional language of Yup’ik is still strong in Russian Mission as evidenced by this sign. (Photo by Mary Marshall)

While ogling the photos, we noticed that several Elders were present in the building. In the Native Alaskan culture, Elders are highly regarded by all. They are the wise ones, there to provide guidance and leadership for the youngsters who seek not only knowledge of their traditions and customs, but advice about life in general. Watching an Elder guide a 5th grader through a problem in a classroom is priceless. Seeing the Elders join the children for lunch and sit in on classes whenever they like is awesome, too. Even the teens revere the Elders, they listen intently and respectfully to their esteemed ‘teachers aids.’ Many Elders here do not speak English, only Yup’ik, so the signs outside each door in the school is in 3 languages – 4 if you count the room numbers; English, braille and Yup’ik. This particular school has incorporated an area called the ‘Yup’ik Room’, a beautiful space with high ceilings and soaring windows – complete with a roomy kitchen/food prep area and a bathroom – where students and Elders mingle during the school day. The Elders spend their hours telling stories, beading and sewing, creating traditional
masterpieces as the students listen, watch and learn.

I was very happy to find my dear friend and Elder, Sandra, at the school. As she embraced me repeatedly, she said, “I feel like I’m waking from a dream, but I’m still in a dream!” She led us to the Yuk’ik room to greet Winnie and Marie, among other Elders. Winnie was seated with a small group of young children who were coloring. Marie, whom had just turned 80, basked in a ray of sunshine as she sat at the head of a long table, making a moose hide thimble. Native women who bead and sew with animal hides make their own skin thimbles to protect and strengthen their fingertips as they push their large needles through thick hides. At the end of the day, Marie and the other ladies presented Mary with the thimble, which really excited her. “Oh my gosh! Thank you! Now I’ll learn to sew!” she exclaimed.

Elder, Marie, uses a mini ‘ulu’ as she sews a traditional moose hide thimble. She gave us this small work of art as we departed. (Photo by Mary Marshall)

Elder, Marie, uses a mini ‘ulu’ as she sews a traditional moose hide thimble. She gave us this small work of art as we departed. (Photo by Mary Marshall)

Elder, Marie, uses a mini ‘ulu’ as she sews a traditional moose hide thimble. She gave us this small work of art as we departed. (Photo by Mary Marshall)

We visited with Sandra and quickly were brought up to date with the current happenings in each others lives as we ate lunch with the elementary-aged kids. Several of the students are her grandchildren but all of the students, related to her or not, see her as family. She has a matriarchal air about her and the whole community seems to look up to her. We laughed and joked as we talked and soon we complained that our cheeks hurt from all the giggles – which was the perfect segue into our surprise for Sandra…

Sandra’s face reveals her amazement at seeing John Francis via Skype. (Photo by Mary Marshall)

Jon and Sandra laughing and Skyping (Photo by Mary Marshall)

Very hard, serious work we do! I learned early that when an Elder likes you, you are going to get teased. (Photo by Mary Marshall)

One of our goals of this adventure to the lower Yukon was to create a “virtual campfire”, a friendly, non-scientific exchange between cultures using modern technology. My friend and fellow, NGS Education Fellow, John Francis, and I intentionally planned my winter Healing Journey and his Planetwalk to coincide so that we could bring the people in rural Alaska and the people joining John on his Planetwalk in Ohio and Indiana together to share their thoughts and ideas on global environmental stewardship. We knew that these folks; students and Elders in Russian Mission, as well as the 2013 Planetwalkers would be the ideal group to include but thanks to a variation of Skype and a live chat component, in addition to mentions on Facebook and various websites, people from all over were able to call in and participate in these extraordinary moments! Now that we’ve facilitated making these great connections and fostered the exchanges, the sky is the limit and we’ll be incorporating this awesome Virtual Campfire into all of our future Healing Journeys – most likely within a few meters of our real campfire. It’s way cool!

There’s an amazing story surrounding Sandra, John Francis and myself. I first met Sandra when I started working with the YRITWC, developing the Backhaul Program in the lower Yukon River communities. She and I bonded quickly and she promptly deemed herself my ‘Yup’ik Grandmother’. Needless to say, I am beyond thrilled to have that honor. Sandra is an amazing woman – born and raised on the banks of Mountain Creek near Holy Cross, Alaska. She took me there years ago to show me an old steamboat which a dentist had used as his clinic back about 70 years ago. When he left, he burned and sank the boat, with its metal engine and stack, in Mountain Creek, just off the Yukon. Unfortunately, serious injuries occurred decades later when a passing boat struck the barely submerged stack. Ever since, Sandra has worried about more injuries to river travelers and she wants that glaring hazard removed. Not an easy task.

So a couple of years later, when John Francis and I arrived in Russian Mission in my canoe on the first Healing Journey, the community had just suffered a great loss. Their Village Public Safety Officer, a man who was loved and honored – one of the best in the state, we hear – had shot himself. VPSOs in rural Alaskan villages deal with awful circumstances often involving people who are normally good, solid community members- at least until alcohol enters the picture. Alcohol-related crimes and suicide are a serious problem here and after many years of holding this extremely difficult position, this particular VSPO’s burden became too much. His name was Francis John. When word spread to Sandra and the women of the village that Jon Waterhouse had returned to Russian Mission by canoe, bringing with him a visitor by the name of John Francis, they took this to be a grand omen. The people of Russian Mission knew me and trusted me as we have done good work together, and I believe that my bringing John Francis to them at this moment in time was something akin to their beloved Francis John letting them know that everything would be OK.

Upon meeting John Francis, the community quickly brought him into the fold and he fit in perfectly. So… fast forward to the present: It was clear that Sandra was overjoyed to have me back in her midst, and to make this ‘computer connection’ with ‘Jon and John’ -as you can see from the attached photos.

As a side note, the VPSO’s widow moved away after her husband’s death years ago but, purely by happenstance, she was visiting on this day. She sat quietly and observed the chat. I’m not all that mystical, but I was moved by the events of this day.

The virtual campfire progressed, and I overheard Sandra say to another Elder, “I remember when we were small. The Elders said we would sit in circle, seeing and talking with those who were far away. Do you remember?” Wow.

Our visit to Russian Mission was pretty amazing on every level. Reconnecting with people I haven’t seen in a long while, introducing Mary to them, and making new friends together here was fantastic. Enlisting technology such as Skype and exposing several of the Russian Mission Elders to such a futuristic (perhaps mystical?) process was epic! Bringing their old friend, John Francis, into their first virtual experience was quite a treat for us all.

We are already looking forward to coming back to this community to complete our task of removing that old stack and steam engine from the river. The Corp of Engineers and the US ARMY are now on board with removing this water hazard so hopefully that will happen in the not too distant future. Meanwhile, several students in the science class voiced a common complaint. They stated that even though the community is much cleaner than it’s ever been, there is still some litter present periodically and they don’t like it. So since basketball is huge in rural Alaska and we noticed that, just as in many small towns across America, their is strong community support for the school’s sports program, we suggested the students create trash bins decorated with the team logo and place them in the most trashy spots in town. Collect the trash and stir team spirit in one simple gesture of environmental stewardship! What a deal! We’ll watch and see how that effort unfolds.

Connecting with the kids in the classroom is always fun and inspiring! (Photo by Mary Marshall)

Now it’s time to head back out and continue our Journey to communities in the Yukon Delta. We look forward to more learning and sharing in our effort to spread the message of environmental stewardship.

Thanks for reading and stay tuned!
Piurra! (Yup’ik for “Stay well and see ya later!”)
Jon

NEXT: View Map to Track the Healing Journey

Read All Healing Journey and Planetwalk 2013 Posts

Last Thursday, Mary and I journeyed to Emmonak, Alaska (62.7772N, 164.5450W), a western coastal village of about 700 people, mostly Yup’ik, located near the mouth of the Yukon in a massive river delta that covers hundreds of square miles.

The flight from St. Mary’s to Emmonak was sunny and beautiful. Subzero temperatures seemed to enhance the early morning beauty of the flat and frozen windswept land which stretched out below us in pink, yellow and blue hues as far as the eye could see.

The early spring sun in Alaska. (Photo by Mary Marshall)

The western coast of Alaska is known for its intense winters and horizontal snow storms. Immense dune-like snowdrifts can develop in just a few hours. I’ve seen houses throughout my travels here over the years out here all but buried by drifting snow. Often the path to a doorway is dug out of a snow wall that is well above the roofline of the house. As evidenced by the many boats and other vehicles we see almost entirely concealed by the drifts here, the Yup’ik people take the them in stride. “Spring comes and snow melts. It’s just water”, they say…

Our mile-long ride from the Emmonak airstrip to the school was on the back of a 4-wheeler with a wooden cart in tow. Most remote Alaskan villages use 4-wheelers as the primary mode of transportation year round but in winter, they share the roads with snow machines. Airstrips here in Alaska are usually a good distance from the communities and knowing that it’s unlikely a toasty warm car will be awaiting our arrival, it pays to have our arctic gear handy when flying into any town. More than once I’ve walked several miles from a landing strip into a rural Alaskan village experiencing subzero temps. On this day, Mary and pilot, David, climbed onto the back of the 4-wheeler with village guy-about-town, Scotty, and I jumped into the cart with our gear.

At the School

The Emmonak School is K-12 with around 150 students. We were fortunate to be invited to visit and speak with the kids about global environmental stewardship. Young people seem to grasp quickly the concept of caring for the Earth so I feel fortunate that my duty is simply to encourage what I believe already comes naturally to them. I try to incorporate ways for kids to find adventure in learning, not only because it seems so effective at sparking their interest, but because its more fun!

As we arrived at the school steps, two grinning eleven year-old students flew out the door and raced by us, proudly on their way to the airstrip for a flight to Anchorage to participate in the big Science Fair there – Mary literally snagged them for a photo! Upon entering the school, we were met with a pile of gear and learned that the basketball team was headed to Hooper Bay directly after school. The weekend in Hooper Bay would be all about basketball, which is huge in rural Alaska. Winters here are long, dark and extremely cold so basketball keeps these kids busy, entertained and physically fit, while they could be floundering their days away or getting into trouble elsewhere. Most outlying communities have well equipped gymnasiums and, as I see it, their benefits are immeasurable.

Once in the classroom, we were inspired to see the knowledge and passion the Emmonak kids possess with regard to modern science, especially given that funding is limited to the point that the school has only one microscope (something I find to be completely absurd! Anyone out there care to pitch in?) Kudos to the teachers here who excel at igniting passion in these students with so few tools at their disposal. I was thrilled that the students listened closely to my talk, they were engaged and attentive – and after our presentation they pummeled me with excellent questions! It was awesome!

We were invited to have lunch with the students so we joined kindergartners Khia, Kera and Margaret, 3 little girls with long dark hair and big dark eyes – eyes that all but disappear in their grinning cheeks when they laugh. This trio of little girly charm was thrilled to have a big, burly, bearded stranger sit at their table and eat lunch with them. We talked about names. They explained to me that there IS another Margaret in the school but there is not a single other Khia or Kera. Not anywhere in the Whole Wide World! Oh yes, and they pointed out that everybody has my name, “Jon”… and I pretended to be surprised to hear…

In the Tribal Center

When we left the school, we headed over to the tribal center. This old building houses the tribal offices and also serves as meeting hall, bingo hall, dance hall and periodically – sleeping quarters. The rough wood walls are covered with drums and dance fans. There is a large digital bingo monitor and an area dedicated to Elders who have passed on. The floor is worn and the ceilings are low. Tables and chairs are stacked around the room perimeters and you get the feeling that generations of Emmonak residents have been raised in this welcoming old space. There we met with the tribal representatives of Emmonak, Chuloonawik (62.9461N, 164.1722W) and Alakanuk (62.6889N, 164.6153W) about specific environmental concerns in this remote region. As we talked, I heard that the primary concern in this area along the Yukon, as in most, is water quality.

Mary pals around with new friends from Emmonak. (Photo by Mary Marshall)

People want to know what is in their water, how it got there, and what they can do to get it out. They want to drink from their river again. They want to know their fish are healthy and safe to consume. This is a place that the culture, the people… existence itself is defined by their relationship with the salmon. This bond has existed since time immemorial. As they look toward the future, they have great concerns regarding the health of the salmon and their way of life. For many years, science has recorded the decrease in annual salmon runs. As documented via modern science, this decline continues year after year. This is fact.

So the suspected cause(s) of this decline in salmon may be numerous, and there may be no blanket solution. This is an area that needs attention far beyond the commercial fishing interests, beyond the sports enthusiasts, beyond the state and federal regulations we must get to the very heart of the matter – and that’s preserving the salmon. We have reached this place in time where it’s clear a rest is in order. There needs to be time to study and figure this out. Because as history has taught us – repeatedly I hate to say – ignoring a problem CAN make it go away. The end of salmon for the Native People would be the end of an ancient culture and a sad commentary on modern society. And it would speak volumes about the direction we are all headed. But this sad state of affairs is avoidable. By setting aside our greed, differences and preconceived notions, coming together as one, we can do better than this. I think it’s time we do.

The topmost part of a boat betrays the river hidden under snow and ice. (Photo by Mary Marshall)

As far as the good news, there is a concerted environmental stewardship effort by the people who live here and it’s clearly visible in the litter-free appearances of the communities these days. In the past, plastic bags, plastic soda bottles and other consumer debris littered the land here. The communities of the Yukon River inspired our YRITWC Backhaul Program and today it is rare to see garbage and rubbish strewn about here like before. Environmental Stewardship is alive and pride is evident and that is something that’s fantastic!

There is still much work to be done but we know that we’re making great progress. The journey continues so stay tuned!

Thanks for reading ~
Jon

NEXT: View Map to Track the Healing Journey

Read All Healing Journey and Planetwalk 2013 Posts

We’re back on the Yukon River – this time in St. Mary’s, Alaska where the Healing Journey was born! My wife, Mary and I arrived here late yesterday evening just as the lights of this lovely village were twinkling to life. Perched on the sloping banks of the Yukon River in Western Alaska, St. Mary’s will serve as our base camp for the next 10 days. Since we flew the nearly 500 air miles from Anchorage in a Cessna 206, we feel pretty fortunate that the weather was beautiful and the 3+ hour flight was smooth. Of course, that’s thanks to our uber capable pilot, David – who is also the CFO of the YRITWC, the non-profit org that I direct. (Only in Alaska, right?) The temperature here now is a whopping zero degrees F, but the sky is filled with dancing green northern lights – the upside to a cold night in the Far North!

We’ll be spending our time here in western Alaska visiting friends in Emmonak, Pilot’s Station, Kotlik, Scammon Bay, Russian Mission, Shageluk and Chevak – all of which are small villages located on or near the lower Yukon River.

There are no roads between these locations and though we will mostly be flying from one community to the next, we have snowmachines here for shorter trips between the villages within a reasonable distance of one another (less than 50 miles apart? Is that reasonable?) We’ll be collecting snow and ice samples from various points on the river – a first for us on the Yukon as so far our sampling season has been limited to summer.

Yeah with this much snow and ice, we’re not taking the canoes this time. (Photo by Mary Marshall)

Another exciting aspect of this trip is that next week we will connect via Skype with our good buddy, Dr. John Francis, aka: the Planetwalker (read his earlier blog posts) as he walks with a group of college students across part of Indiana and Ohio. Each year, around Earth Day, John retraces a cross-country protest walk he took in the 70s after witnessing an oil spill in San Francisco Bay. The walk from one coast to the other took him 7 years – but he stopped riding in motorized vehicles for an incredible 22! We are looking forward to connecting with John and his trekkers via Skype from the rural Alaska classrooms we’ll be visiting while here.

I’m calling this trip a recon mission as we are preparing for next winter’s Healing Journey – a 1000+ mile journey on the frozen Yukon by snowmachine. Not only will we be speaking to Elders and Tribal leaders about the upcoming trip, sharing info about Native water rights and our upcoming tribal summit, we’ll also be connecting with young children in their classrooms, spreading the message of environmental stewardship. I feel a special connection to the people and land here – especially the kids – because this region is where the request was made of me to “go out and take the pulse of the river”. The children here have made a substantial impact on their environment by promoting the banning of plastic bags, and they have never backed down from a challenge when the future well-being of their natural environment is in question.

I am truly inspired to be here. Mary has lived in Alaska since 1975 but has never visited this part of the state. We have many friends here and are both thrilled for the opportunity to connect to a place and people that have essentially changed the direction of our own lives in such a positive way.

We’ll keep you posted as we continue west toward the coast of Alaska! Thanks for reading

- Jon

NEXT: View Map to Track the Healing Journey

For the last four years, in the remote village of Old Fangak, South Sudan, a health-focused team of Alaskan volunteers have labored long and hard beside steadfast community members. The focus of their combined effort is the construction of a humble medical clinic. A disease called kala-azar (visceral leishmaniasis), often referred to as Black Fever, has ravaged the area for decades and in 1989 Dr. Jill Seaman (featured in the January 2013 issue of National Geographic Magazine) arrived in Old Fangak. She began developing a treatment process for this deadly and indiscriminant disease and has tirelessly administered care to thousands in this vast land – without running water or electricity.

There are no adequate buildings in Old Fangak in which Dr. Jill can perform medical procedures, so the construction of the clinic has been attended with a great deal of anticipation. Traditional African dwellings, called tukuls, are abundant in Old Fangak but they are built on dirt and constructed of sticks, mud and cow dung – not so ideal for performing surgeries. There is a very old colonial building still standing, built sometime during British rule, but not much in the way of maintenance has occurred on the structure over the decades.

Traditional African huts called tukuls are abundant in Old Fangak. (Photo by Jon Waterhouse)

Adding to the difficulties of providing medical care in Old Fangak, access to clean water is limited. During the dry months the dirt is hard like concrete, which makes well-drilling efforts in the village during the ‘building season’ problematic to say the least. Just another aspect of the challenges faced by the volunteers. As far as the rest of the year, Old Fangak is located in the Sudd, the largest swamp in the world, so when the rains begin, there is only mud. Deep, sticky mud.

Many surgeries and treatments over the years have been delivered in tents and under trees.
I remember when a man who had gouged his eye 2 years prior received word of Dr. Jill and made the 3-day trek to Old Fangak to see the legendary doctor. His damaged eye had adhered to the lid and was permanently open, infected, swollen and painful. He stated he had not slept in the 2 years since sustaining the injury. The surgery to remove his eye lasted for 10 hours amid the buzz of flying insects attracted by the light of Jill’s headlamp (which looks just like mine from REI.) When the patient awoke after surgery he was astonished to be rested and free of pain, and was eager to return home. Dr. Jill all but tied him down to keep him overnight to monitor his post-op condition but he had cows to tend and the walk home would take another 3 days. So off he went. This is typical of the patients seen in Old Fangak. I can see Dr. Jill bidding him farewell, shaking her head, shrugging her shoulders, and watching him walk off across the savannah toward home. Yet his unexpected departure offered no reprieve in the doctor’s busy day. For every patient seen by Dr. Jill in a day, hundreds more await. The numbers are unfathomable.

So with the new clinic in place, access to a higher standard of dispensing treatment for her patients was finally close to being realized, and the new clinic was near enough to completion that it could house the supplies and medications used in Dr. Jill’s daily efforts.

Dr. Jill explains a treatment process to her patients. (Photo by Jon Waterhouse)

The clinic’s creation in this little known region of Africa has been arduous. It’s location in the Sudd makes cross-country travel to and from the village impossible. Many might naively imagine that with a Range Rover, a load of fuel, and a spirit of adventure you could simply drive the roughly 900 kilometers (550 miles) from Nairobi to Juba, refuel then break a trail the remaining unknown number of kilometers (perhaps 500?) to Old Fangak. But, alas, there is no road to Old Fangak. Aside from the lingering effects etched by decades of civil war, the terrain hosts a series of natural obstructions. Wet and dry riverbeds, deep ravines, rocky outcrops, large patches of acacias (or mokala – tall, bushy trees with huge thorns) and mucky, green wetlands around water sources might imply that Mother Nature herself is rebuffing the presence of humans there.

This road is nowhere near Old Fangak but is typical of the few overland routes in South Sudan. (Photo by Jon Waterhouse)

Take a look on Google Earth and see for yourself (or even just Google Maps). Even with the cost of fuel hitting around $40 per gallon at one point, trust me, if it was possible to drive to Old Fangak, we would be doing it.

Modern and traditional materials combine to make up a gas station in South Sudan. (Photo by Jon Waterhouse)

Our only options in delivering building materials and medical supplies are by plane and boat, but unless you pay the exorbitant cost of nearly $10,000 to charter a small plane, the process is unreliable. And though a narrow branch of the White Nile River nears Old Fangak, trained boat mechanics are scarce, so simple mechanical issues also impede river travel. Sadly, basic boat operation and safety is not always taught or practiced and precious lives have been lost on the river during the building of our clinic. River travel can be unsafe for several other reasons as well. Dangerous wildlife is always present, and add to that the fact that any boat carrying building materials or cargo might eventually come under the gaze of someone who believes that cargo should belong to them, so there are also heavily armed threats.

Old Fangak is accesssible by air or this river. (Photo by Jon Waterhouse)

This clinic in Old Fangak has been a long time coming, and the hope it has brought is immeasurable. Volunteers have paid thousands of dollars out of their own pockets to get from Alaska to Old Fangak and have used their own resources including their annual vacations building this clinic, working with materials and supplies donated by generous individuals from the United States.

I could go on, but I think you get my drift. It has been an arduous labor of love. So you can imagine the overwhelming heartbreak Dr. Jill must have experienced as she typed an early morning email (sent via INMARSAT) on Dec. 23rd to her partner in this grand effort and the director of the Alaska Sudan Medical Project (ASMP), Dr. Jack Hickel, describing how a fire in the wee hours had ravaged the clinic. Thankfully, no one was hurt. But in addition to a large inventory of medical equipment, supplies, our meager solar power system, and other necessities, an entire year’s worth of the expensive kala-azar treatment was lost. The shock that this tragedy could occur after so many had given so much to make the dream of the clinic in Old Fangak a reality was almost too much to bear. All who have given so selflessly to bring this thing to life were stunned.

A crowd assesses the fire damage of Old Fangak’s new clinic. (Photo Courtesy ASMP)

Gutted by fire, the new clinic in Old Fangak will not see its completion next month, as planned. (Photo Courtesy ASMP)

The fire in the new clinic is a devastating set-back for ASMP members. (Photo Courtesy ASMP)

Dr. Jill and ASMP volunteers sort through the post-fire debris outside the new clinic. (Photo Courtesy ASMP)

Jack was stunned, too. As he re-read the email and attempted to fully understand what had occurred, his wife, Josie, made a call to the pastor of their church in Anchorage. December 23rd fell on a Sunday and the morning service would be starting in an hour. That morning, the pastor told of a tragic fire in South Sudan, and of the incalculable efforts by Alaskan volunteers to improve the lives of the grateful Sudanese people there. By the end of this Sunday sermon, the offering plates literally overflowed… to the tune of almost $15,000. Their outpouring of care and concern for the people of Old Fangak – strangers in an African village with whom this congregation has never had contact – was astounding. I am truly in awe of their gracious generosity.

Word continued to spread through the Alaska Sudan Medical Project team. I have to admit that upon reading the email, I, also, was momentarily grasped by the emotion of shear gloom. All that work! But when I hung my head and relayed the news to my wife Mary, her first response was, “We’ll contact the gang at National Geographic right now.” … Yes! We knew that through the many channels there, more good would come. I felt pretty hopeful as I sent out a group email and soon spoke with my close friend and fellow NGS Education Fellow, Dr. John Francis, aka the Planetwalker. John made a call to TIDES (Transformative Innovation for Development and Emergency Support), a Defense Department research project based at The Center for Technology and National Security Policy of the National Defense University. From there, after several conference calls and much logistical strategizing between  John in New Jersey, myself in Anchorage, and several key players in between, we could see a giant ball starting to roll.

TIDES swiftly assessed our needs and contacted Solar Stik, a provider of portable power solutions serving government, defense, commercial and individuals across the globe. Since our solar powering units were destroyed in the fire, Solar Stik immediately assembled a replacement system many times more powerful, proficient, and robust than the one we lost, complete with the detailed training necessary to utilize their advanced technology. DHL Global also came to the rescue and nobly volunteered to ship the valuable cargo free of charge. Vital logistical assistance was provided through the remarkable US Africa Command, one of six of the U.S. Defense Department’s geographic combatant commands. TIDES then contacted Samaritan’s Purse, a non-denominational Christian organization that provides help for those in need around the world. In an incredible gesture of generosity and humanity, Samaritan’s Purse not only offered an almost immediate replacement of the cherished kala-azar medication (and the supplies necessary to dispense it), but assurance that they would deliver the shipment to Old Fangak within just a matter of days.

Thanks to TIDES for the immediate emergency response! ASMP’s David Kapla unloads medicines and supplies assisted here by… a future pilot? A future doctor? (Photo Courtesy ASMP)

We were floored! Since the fire, our ASMP guys on the ground – David Kapla in Old Fangak and Jason Hahn in Nairobi – have worked around the clock. They have paved the way for all of these incredibly charitable organizations to assist ASMP and Dr. Jill in getting the replacement medicines and materials to where they need to be. My hat goes off to them both as they have been tossed into a truly awful circumstance and have handled it with selfless efficiency.

This fire was indeed a tragic turn for us, but the flood of good prompted by the disaster has re-energized us beyond imagination. We are pulling through a tremendous challenge with a greater understanding of how many are standing beside us in this effort, and our crisis is now a source of hope and inspiration for everyone involved.

I believe I can speak on behalf of ASMP and the people of Old Fangak in offering a special ‘thank you’ to John Francis. Without his call to TIDES, we would still be in a state of crisis with little hope for a quick recovery.

To learn more about this project, the organizations who have helped, and the wonderful people behind them, please visit these websites:
facebook: Alaska Sudan Medical Project
www.samaritanspurse.org
www.star-tides.net
www.solarstik.com
www.africom.mil

www.planetwalk.org

UPDATE 1/23/2013: Dr. Jill just relayed to us that amid the flurry of aid and response to our clinic fire, WHO (the World Health Organization) actually got a shipment of kala azar meds and supplies to Old Fangak so quickly that her patients never missed a single dose! Awesome! WHO’s presence in South Sudan has been a Godsend for Dr. Jill, ASMP and other relief organizations there. We are truly grateful for their unfaltering presence and assistance as we work to improve health and living standards for the many who call Old Fangak and its region in South Sudan home.

Merida, Mexico, 12/12/12:

As Mary and I checked into the Fiesta Americana Hotel and started to unpack for the JPAC (Commission Environmental Cooperation) meeting in Merida, we were drawn to our window by amplified voices coming from someplace outside. On the grand avenue below we could see a large, high-tech stage being fitted with lighting and sound equipment. Pickup trucks marked ‘Policia’ lined the boulevard and traffic was redirected as barricades were placed and giant digital screens set up on corners.

We high-tailed it down to the activity on the street to discover that huge, framed black and white photographs of Maya ruins as they appeared a century ago and as they appear today were dividing the wide walkways in front of the ornate mansions and thriving businesses along this lovely paseo.

Fireworks technicians buzzed about, clearly preparing for an extraordinary and illuminating display. Large shiny white moving vans packing brand new super-telescopes were unloaded by hordes of university students in black t-shirts emblazoned with OBSERVANDO EL UNIVERSO MAYA. Waiting to support the jumbo telescopic star viewers, tripods by the dozens filled the street for an entire block, ready to give the masses an astonishing look at the mysterious beauty, which visibly surrounds our planet at night.

Young girls in crisp white linen dresses with bright embroidery wore colorful flowers in their braided buns as they perfected their hair and make up around other stages appearing along the esplanade. A 3-story Christmas tree towered above the happenings on the street while hundreds of children in white shirts and bright red Santa hats waited patiently below it to be organized by choreographers for their performance in this mysterious extravaganza. Elderly women made beautiful baskets on the spot.

As we soon discovered, the event we were watching unfold was a once in a lifetime – actually a once in a hundred lifetimes – event… This was the 21 December 2012 Celebration, the week-long event that will officially mark a new start for the planet as the Maya calendar approaches the end of its 13th Baktun and the start of its 14th next week. (A baktun equals 394.26 tropical years.)

But! As it turns out, the Mayas of today are making no gloomy preparations for a Day of the Dead to end all Days of the Dead. No, this is a celebration of great hope, a welcoming festival for a bright and beautiful tomorrow, the passing of one era and the grand entrance of the next.

The Mayas know this to be and they bask in its promise.

Then why have countless other cultures around the globe so readily subscribed to the ‘end of the World’ theory? Is it simply human nature to look for the negative over the positive, even in the absence of hard proof? Have religious zealots used this opportunity to strike fear into the hearts of men (and women, and dogs and cats, for that matter), because that’s not really working for me. Clearly the Mayas want no part of that concept either. They laugh at it!

So what does a new beginning mean for the World? Well I, for one, am hopeful. I see potential for unparalleled change and enlightenment. I see access to more information than we could ever put our hands on before and with that access I believe will come amazing opportunities for the betterment of man and planet. I am convinced that future generations will be better stewards for life and environment and that ethical choices will prevail as younger generations start entering and taking over boardrooms.

What Mary and I witnessed on the streets of Merida seemed to be a look into the future of mankind, and from the spirit we saw there in the modern day Mayas, it’s so bright ya gotta wear shades!

The new Maya calendar begins with it a grand opportunity for the transformation of man’s consciousness.

One Maya message relays that we are making a choice regarding how we enter the future ahead. Our moving through with either resistance or acceptance will determine whether the transition will happen with cataclysmic changes or gradual peace and tranquility.

This is a time that the International Council of the 13 Indigenous Grandmothers view as a re-awakening of the feminine. Grandmother Flordemayo stated:

“A transfer of the staff of power from the masculine to the feminine is occurring now.” So we end a 26,000-year chunk of history to begin the next 26,000 years with the nurturing spirit of a feminine power overseeing us; a power that will graciously guide us to work with nature rather than against it.

It seems clear that rather than the end of the world we face a transition from an old World into a new; a World that we can create and cultivate in choosing to do the right things by our people and by our planet.

Strolling away from the 13 Baktun festivities, we soon found ourselves at the Plaza de la Indepencia in the heart of Old Merida, an area adorned with magnificent architecture, including dozens of cathedrals and centuries-old government buildings. Like many Central American cities, the colonial history of Merida reminds us that the concept of freedom should never be taken lightly. In the view of the modern Mayas, they know where they have come from and they know where they want to go. This is an opportunity to avoid the wrong methods and to achieve prosperity through healthier and wiser means.

Wedding parties lined up in front of cathedrals in Old Town Merida as a few blocks away fireworks filled the night sky in celebration of the new Maya calendar.

During this week of celebration, we were able to visit a remote area of Mexico and see flamingos wintering at the Celestun Biosphere Reserve. The village of Celestun, an indigenous subsistence fishing community, is now promoting Eco-tourism to provide for a sustainable future. Its location on the Gulf of Mexico is stunning and the people of this small community are preparing for pending prosperity – not pending doom.

In the most of simple terms, this time is solstice. December 21, 2012, marks the end of the 13th Baktun, and it marks the beginning of the 14th Baktun. The significance of 21 December, 2012, this calendar’s end, and this particular 13/14 Baktun transition, is that it marks the end of a 26,000 year galactic cycle, and begins the calendar of the next 26,000 years galactic cycle. By the very detailed prophecies of the Mayas, this means leaving the calendar of Night and beginning the calendar of Day.

After finding ourselves at the very epicenter of the Maya within just a few days of the ‘current’ Maya calendar’s end, this is what we learned: In another 395 years or so, the 15th Baktun will arrive, and then the 16^th, and so on. There will be more Maya calendars and more celebrations clearing the path for change. One happy side note for me is that the last 26,000 years were considered by the Mayas to be the Night. The next 26,000 years they tell us will be the Day. And this, as I see it, is not the dawn of the dead – it’s the dawn of a new day! So let’s join the Mayas in creating a new age of positive, responsible and wise human advancement. We’re in! Are you?

Peace~

Jon

Learn More

The Truth About the Maya Doomsday Myth

Leadership. Power.
Two words with much meaning yet much difference.
Are leaders powerful? Sometimes.
Are the powerful always leaders? No.
In this modern age we often experience the powerful in positions of “leadership,” but only because they used personal power to gain public power, not because they possess true leadership abilities. The world is full of these empty “leaders”; men and women who sought power through various means, forcing their own self-serving agendas and immersing themselves in greed. They end up doing harm to their people on many levels: physically, financially, psychologically, often violating human rights to hold on to their power.
A true leader doesn’t simply exert power over people, he or she inspires the people and is in turn inspired by them. I see a leader as someone who is selfless, always thinking of the whole. Concerned with all.

The Challenge for Leaders
The leaders of today must be warriors for their People–warriors in the finest sense of the tradition–selfless and immune to the influences and seductions of modern society, projecting themselves to a higher standard–fearless and focused.
Today there are many powerful people in the spotlight and they are there only for being, well, famous. So. We must ask ourselves, who are the real ‘leaders’ of today? Who will future generations learn about in school? Who will historians write about and who will we tell stories of and sing of around the campfires in the decades to come?
A true leader must focus entirely on the betterment of his or her People, without regard for self-advancement, compensation or recognition.
Leadership and power are not the same thing.

Learn More about Jon Waterhouse and His Projects

Looking back on this summer’s expedition, the action-packed Tanana kept us on our toes! Shallow waters, sweepers and fast-moving currents were indeed challenging, but this river and its people were very good to The Healing Journey as we paddled along the 600-mile Tanana River from Northway to the village of Tanana, Alaska in our trusty canoes.

Manda and Richard are enjoying a relaxing stretch, which looked to be more like a deep lake with a slight current than the active river it is. Photo by Mary Marshall.

 

With 12 paddlers at one point and 5 at another, we averaged about 25 miles per day. Making frequent stops along the way we floated along mostly at the pace of the river with speeds usually ranging from around 7 to 15mph, though we did see a few spots with minimal current. Paddling wasn’t always required but our undivided attention surely was as the Tanana is quick and braided. We managed to survive two canoes going over in the current, one near a large rock face and the other under some sweepers. Both events occurred on hot, sunny days with temps over 95 degrees F so we dried out quickly, but getting out of the 45 degree water without delay was vital. Thanks to cargo nets, bungees and handy D clips, our supplies remained secure in the canoes and no gear was lost to the river. Our life preservers preserved, so no paddlers were lost either.

The Healing Journey is about people, environmental stewardship and is an effort to “take the pulse of the river”, so to accomplish this task we collect water quality data and stories from the people who know rivers best, the folks who live on their banks. There are few communities on the Tanana so other than the gatherings in Nenana and Tanana, much of our trip was spent collecting science and observing river behavior and the environment.

Charlie was a focused collector. Photo by Mary Marshall.

 This journey proved to be the perfect opportunity for water-quality testing and the samples were collected diligently each hour by paddler and avid canoeist, Charlie, a high school science teacher from the Boston area. Eric, a 22-year-old Athabascan from Anvik, Alaska, assisted Charlie, as did Anne, an experienced Yukon paddler from Germany. These samples are currently being analyzed by the USGS lab in Denver and the continuous samples we collected via the YSI Sonde have been downloaded, processed, and added to our 12-year study of the Yukon Watershed.

We were happy to discover that many of the multitudes of open sandbars on the Tanana are large, high, firewood abundant and ideal for campsites. Bear tracks were a regular sight wherever we stopped so we typically opted to set up camp just a few feet from the water’s edge, away from brush and wooded areas. Since our gargantuan Alaskan mosquitos tend to prefer the same brush-covered areas as our gargantuan Alaskan bears, we avoided those zones without exception, even setting up our latrines in the open.

A deluxe Healing Journey latrine! Photo by Mary Marshall.

 

As environmental stewards, we leave no trace of our presence, but we do bring a little noise pollution with us. Except when we are visiting communities, we tend to be fairly noisy while in bear country. Bears usually are afraid of loud noises and we are always respectful of bears so making big noise is a good thing in the wilderness of Alaska.

Joe and Manny watch a cow moose and her calf emerge from the water after crossing. Photo by Mary Marshall.

 

Interestingly, our campsites were selected for us each and every evening by wildlife. We might go all day without seeing a creature sitting still but in the evenings there was always one visible and waiting to direct us. Most nights, bald eagles would mark our spots for us perched in trees overlooking the ideal location, though one night our guides were a pair of swans standing on the shore of an exceptional sandbar as if waiting for us to check-in. Once a coyote appeared on the point of a long sandbar, and another night a moose stood high on a rocky cliff amid a few spindly birches directly across from a dry sandbar with plenty of firewood. This was an unusual spot for a moose to stand and at first glance he looked unreal.

Silhouetted and perfectly outlined, this moose looked like a black metal cutout – like those of cowboys you might see in farmyards on rural back roads. Photo by Mary Marshall.

 

Ravens were also terrific hosts for us and as the days passed, we learned to simply trust the appearance of animals in the evenings to provide us direction. We were fooled once, however, by a bald eagle with a dirty head. He led us to a low sandbar that was wet and ridiculously mucky. Quicksand-like mud swallowed us up to our knees and we spent a lot of time and energy wriggling our legs out of this dangerous jello-like muck. Clearly you should never trust a bald eagle with a dirty head.

Nature has a tendency to create beautiful designs in the Tanana River mud. Photo by Mary Marshall.

The downside of the attractic designs is that they often indicate trouble. Photo by Mary Marshall.

 

Alaska’s rivers are impeccable examples of how pristine the natural world can be. With minimal litter or pollution, I am reminded while here of what environmental stewardship is. Periodically items blow out of boats unnoticed by the boaters, but intentional littering here is rare. Manny found a plastic bottle and a couple of beer bottles (and since the Healing Journey is drug and alcohol free, we harassed him regularly about the empties in his canoe). One day Anne returned from a stroll around the large sandbar where we camped struggling to lug a large white bucket. Mary met her half way to help carry the weighty 5-gallon container. The label indicated that it was butter cream frosting from Sam’s Club. Most likely it fell off one of the barges making its bi-monthly delivery of groceries to the villages. In order to haul it out in one of our canoes we agreed that emptying it was a no-brainer considering the weight and balance factor, right?

Bad decision! I think it must have been purchased decades ago. The smell of rancid butter filled our nostrils as we pried open the lid and relieved the large container of its smelly contents. Digging a deep hole in the sand, we buried the sugary, frosty muck, hoping it would all dissolve before an unlucky bear with a sour stomach and a severe toothache in his future arrived to dig up dessert. Fortunately we had a bottle of planet-friendly dish soap and a long handled scrub brush in the canoe. This came in very handy at that moment as the smell of the empty, resealed bucket was still overpowering.

Here Ellie and I free Olga and Anne from the goo that is Tanana mud. Photo by Mary Marshall.

 

We photographed a plethora of insects we found on sandbars, in the clear creek areas where we collected our drinking water, and occasionally in our canoes.

Colorful caterpillars abounded. Here Eric and a bright specimen examine each other. Photo by Mary Marshall.

Here is a frustrated spider and an undeterred caterpillar. Photo by Mary Marshall.

 

We watched a sand spider attempt to defeat one of these slow-motion crawlers and we were amused that several attempts to jump onto the caterpillar yielded no good results for the dejected spider. The fuzzy-looking spines of the caterpillar provided the precise protection nature intended as the spider was rebuffed repeatedly and the caterpillar continued his crawl nonchalantly across the mud.Another spider appeared on Manda’s paddle and we watched it for a long while as we sat collecting water. Eventually the ambitious arachnid put its rear end in the air and shot a line of silk straight out and away from all obstacles. Then airborne it was, with no attachment to anything but it’s fine, silky line acting as a sail! Once the paddlers had seen this, they started watching intently for these comical little sailors and would see them sailing past us at every turn.

In Nenana we stopped for a wonderful gathering where we were given jars of jam recently made by these happy kids during Spirit Camp. Photo by Mary Marshall.

 

Yum… The gift of homemade jam by the kids of Nenana was the perfect compliment to Ellie's Campfire Stick Biscuits! Photo by Mary Marshall.

 

Though our time in Nenana was short, the terrific people there fed us well and gave us a comfy place to sleep in their lovely Cultural Center beside the river. Jean, a Nenana Elder, gave us some sage advice about the Tanana River, reminding us that for fresh, silt-free water we can dig a shallow hole in a sandbar and the sand itself will filter the water coming up for us naturally. We did not have to employ this technique because the Tanana has many clear water tributaries, but it’s a great method to keep on file. Jean has lived on the river her entire life and knows it well. We were lucky to meet her, her daughter, Skooch, and her 5 grandkids while in Nenana. We have plans to visit them again this fall when we drive back up to Denali.

A few of Charlie’s former students are interning at Denali this summer with the Student Conservation Association (SCA) so we decided that while in the neighborhood we should stop in and pay them a visit. I arranged that our truck be in Nenana when we arrived and we piled in and headed for Denali Park. Once inside the park we drove the 15 miles to the Savage River, where we were told the students were working on refurbishing an old trail. We ended up connecting with them in camp and were delighted to be able to sit and chat with these students and their ‘trail leaders’, Hannah and Lily. The camp kitchen tent with its nice little woodstove kept us toasty on this cool day.

Here we are with a team of awesome SCA Students (with leaders, Lily and Hannah on the far right) at Denali this summer. Check out the Student Conservation Association at www.dsca.org Photo by Mary Marshall.

 

I learned that each year high school students are selected by SCA to work on public lands around the country. What a terrific program for teens passionate and dedicated to learning about conservation. The SCA provides hands-on conservation services opportunities through internships in our National Parks, Preserves, Refuges, etc. Meeting these exuberant young people was a real treat for us.

Near Tok we discuss the next stretch of the river - and I defend my old paper maps. Photo by Mary Marshall.

 

In our early planning stages of The Healing Journey I had marked several locations of creeks for us to obtain drinking water on my 1952 USGS maps (acquired from the great guys at Alaska Geographic). I was teased often about my preferred form of map ‘technology’. I marked a spot called ‘Baker Creek’ and we were intrigued that though we had never heard of it, the maps indicated it was a good-sized community in the 1950s. Of course that didn’t mean it still existed. We had already discovered many sloughs on the maps had filled in with time and grown over long ago.

Despite being harassed constantly for my 60-year-old maps, we successfully found Baker Creek and crept in. As we paddled slowly into this quiet, hidden streak of clear, deep water to replenish our drinking supply, we noticed tree roots clinging to eroding shores and dead sweepers lining the banks. Amid the dense woods and brush we noticed a long abandoned beaver house. It was eerily quiet as we glided past a large, lifeless white she-fish floating ominously on the surface. These sights set a creepy mood and quickly we were joking about future news stories of the missing paddlers who mysteriously disappeared on the Tanana.

As we rounded a bend we saw in the distance a large expanse of cut grass and several old abandoned-looking buildings. The place seemed to be completely uninhabited but for the distinct buzzing sound of a saw. This scenario really excited us but after all the exaggerated melodrama about this little side-trip we approached with exaggerated caution. A large homemade dock sat empty and quiet in the still, dark water of the creek as we made our way up to get a closer look from the property’s edge. The sun shone through the birch trees and lit up an old log cabin, worn and dilapidated. As we got closer the sound of the saw became louder and we noticed things hanging from posts all around the buildings, and more scattered about the yard.

Then we realized what we were seeing were flower baskets, brightly colored lawn gnomes and Welcome signs. Suddenly the foreboding, abandoned camp we had envisioned and speculated about looked more like a scene from a Disney cartoon. So much for our dramatizations of cannibal hillbillies and ax murderers…

We yelled out, “Hello!” and the saw stopped. A tall blond guy in Carhartts appeared from inside one of the old buildings and soon we were on the lawn chatting up a storm with Jack, the caretaker of this great old site. Come to find out he’d beat a trail up to the Far North from Florida decades ago to make himself a life of mining and trapping in Alaska.

Built in 1903, Jack explained the property had been in the family of the current owner, a Navajo woman, for over a century. This is a rarity in Alaska since properties of such age are few and far between. (As are Navajos.) Jack gave us a grand tour of this lovely homestead and proudly declared, “During the last party here we had that little creek out there filled with 42 boats!” What a great stop this was. We will stay in touch with Trapper Jack from Florida, and hopefully someday meet the woman who has spent her life in this amazing place.

The village of Tanana sits less than a half a mile up the Yukon from where the Tanana flows into it and for us, hitting the slow, smooth Yukon after several weeks on its hyperactive cousin was like entering a Zen garden. Because the village of Tanana is so centrally located in the Yukon Watershed, this was the Healing Journey’s third visit there and I can count on the community always to be a warm and friendly host.

Racks of drying fish were a common sight along the Yukon in Tanana. Photo by Mary Marshall.

 

Our arrival in Tanana came during a significant salmon harvest and the many drying racks along the riverbanks were full and bright orange with drying fish. What a great sight to behold! The fish management challenges along the Yukon have been ongoing for years and recent summers have seen drying racks underused often. My conversations with tribal leaders during this visit revealed deep concerns over the health and the future of the salmon. The Healing Journey is about the people and their environment and this is exactly why I’m here. I see my job as a conduit between these people and a solution to their concerns about their river. I’m honored they trust me to help.

On a lighter note, with each Healing Journey we host a River School for the community kids, teaching them about our canoes and river safety. The kids in Tanana are river-savvy and they really gave instructor, Charlie, a run for his money. Andrea, age 8, was determined to NOT return to shore once out in the canoe with him and watching her repeatedly push back off as Charlie attempted to land the canoe had us rolling. He’s used to dealing with high school and college-aged kids and this young, precocious little girl literally had him going in circles. But he handled her with humor and a bit of trickery and eventually she was back on the beach with us, posing for the camera. Young brothers, Michael and Joe – pictured below, are capable paddlers and experienced river travelers.

Charlie is a true canoe enthusiast and having grown up with canoes, he took great pride in hosting the kids of Tanana in our River School. Photo by Mary Marshall.

 

This young paddler was determined not to return to shore once out in the canoe. Watching her repeatedly push back off as Charlie attempted to land the canoe had us rolling. Photo by Mary Marshall.

 

The picnic we hosted upon our arrival in Tanana was great! We saw several old friends and made many new ones. Paddler Anne has paddled on the Yukon several times and was eager to see friends she’d made on her prior trips through Tanana. Her first stop was the Elder’s Center where all the residents she’d met previously are living still, doing well and excited to see her. Jackie, 76, was quick to offer Anne and Mary his shower and they were quick to take him up on that! The guys had to make our way to the public showers in the community Laundromat, and I’m happy to tell you they were spotless.

“Clean water is important to our community and culture.” The people of Tanana have a deep love and connection to their rivers, the Yukon and the Tanana. Photo by Mary Marshall.

 

This is a community of people who truly care about each other and want a healthy World for their children and future generations. Photo by Mary Marshall.

The Elders there were welcoming and happy to talk with us about their two rivers and their personal histories of living with them. Photo by Mary Marshall.

This place is a prime example of what inspires the Healing Journey and encourages us to spread our message of environmental stewardship, helping the people we meet to reconnect with the natural world and with each other, all over the globe. Photo by Mary Marshall.

(FYI: With regard to our previous post, we received an email from our young friend from Japan, Masatatsu, and he has completed his Yukon paddle and is now in Lima, Peru preparing for his Amazon trip! We wish him a terrific journey and safe travels!)

Located near the Canadian border in the vast Yukon watershed, the headwaters of the Tanana River are within a few miles of Northway, Alaska where the Chisana and the Nebesna rivers merge. Our 6 canoes will take approximately 4 weeks to get from these headwaters to the village of Tanana, located on the main stem of the Yukon River.

Clouds hold cool moisture above the Tanana River. Photo courtesy Mary Marshall.

Here with new friend, Masatatsu Abe from Japan. This is his first trip to Alaska. We picked him up near Eureka as he is hitch hiking to Whitehorse for his canoe adventure on the Yukon River. Photo courtesy Mary Marshall.