The Funny Thing About Naknek...

This afternoon I was having lunch in the mess hall with one of the gentlemen from the AGS Corporate office. Not much of a talker, and not seemingly thrilled by the fishing industry, I searched for topics to cultivate conversation. Naturally, the conversation turned to travel. A well traveled man, I was curious to see what he thought about the world. I asked him where his favorite place to travel was, where he liked to go with his family, where he preferred to go alone, and last where was the strangest place he'd ever been. His prior answers had been so rapid I was barely able to ask the questions, mumbling answers about places I'd never heard so quietly and indifferently I struggled to pay attention. But on this last question, he paused. It was the pause that caught my attention. Had he mumbled his answer, the impact would not have been the same. "Here" he replied, plainly but with absolute definity. "This is by far the strangest place I've ever been, it's just...odd." I didn't push him to much more, he already seemed uncomfortable with lengthy conversation.
We piddled about the weather and how much paperwork followed the arrival of the cannery workers, finished our carrot cake slices and walked back to the office so far apart that we may as well have been walking in different directions.

But he was right. Naknek is strange. odd. funny.

The roads, mostly dirt, save the one highway, lead only to buildings, as if the buildings were the first to arrive.The waves in the small stretch of highway mirror those of it's tidal output along which it runs. The post office is not so much a depository for letters as it is a community hall. Broken down signs promise tourist attractions that have been closed for decades.

And the people. The people are characters are straight out of a Ray Bradbury book. Quirky, friendly, and odd. The Bartender also works at the hardware store down the road. The checkout girl at the trading store is a musician, a seasonal worker and a freight company secretary. When they speak with you their faces rest in an almost-smile, not because they particularly like you, but because their town is so diluted with strangers, that it is a habitual politeness. It's not that the people are inherently odd, it is Naknek. Naknek demands oddity as an evolution of survival.

There is an atmosphere of tired tradition here. Newness is constant and yet, caught in a warp, the town has a laid back regularity to the seemingly odd movements of both the people and the town. It is a curious situation, and I must agree with my co-worker, that Naknek is the strangest place I've ever been.




 

Summer Camp for Adults

When I was younger, I used to attend summer camp at Riverview right outside of Cusick, Washington. I remember the excitement, the smell of Clorox in the messhall, the mystery orange drink, the beautiful view of the water, the late nights, the squeaky cabin beds, the people you'd always run into but never quite remember, and that one boy who didn't shower the whole time.

Ten years and one college degree later, I am back at summer camp... with a strangely adult twist. Complete with mystery orange drink, messhall and bunkhouses (though I have single accomodations). The main difference is the fact that rather than the one boy, there are definitely many men with infrequent showering habits.

Glamourous as my post graduate summer position is, I must say I'm not minding it. There are long hours (we work 11 hours a day; and from what I hear, they are about to get longer) but I have a rather nice desk, a continously full coffee pot and snack pile, and a stunning view of the sunset (that is, if I bother to stay up until 12:30 a.m.)

Naknek is a fishing town, and with the 2013 salmon season upon us, the number of fishermen we see daily is steadily increasing. AGS products center around this season, and because I have little to no knowledge of fishing practices of any kind, I have been learning more about fish than I ever thought was neccessary.

The people that are currently at the camp are the managerial and main staff (about 80 employees, including myself) and the seasonal workers for whom I'm doing orientation soon (about 500 individuals) will be arriving throughout the next couple of weeks. My current duties include payroll, airport pick-up, new employee paperwork and training on all office software I haven't yet learned.

Overall, there's not much to Naknek. There's a post office, a few bars (which I have yet to explore), a general store, a liquor store and a little coffee shop called 'The Shire'. The atmosphere is welcoming, and arid, giving one a sense of freedom (and a big whif of  what I can only describe as testosterone incarnate). Whelp, It's about time for dinner, Mystery orange drink here I come. Wish me luck! Here's some photos for the road...


The view on the flight into Anchorage



AGS facilities in Naknek. Storm clouds moving in.



My office building overlooking the water



Fishing gear storage facility on site



The walk back to my room... watch out for boats.

The classy lock system





The 12:30 a.m. sunset from my room





Until next time

Besos,

Hil 

So Now What?

As with any recent graduate, there are a lot of big changes in my future. I have been slowly, inevitably, packing up my belongings (which happen to consist mainly of books and an odd conglomeration of clothing... and more books.) into three different categories. Why three? Because each of the three groups has a different destination.

My first destination is Spokane. I'll be there for a whopping five days, mostly sitting at home, studying for the GRE's, and hanging out with my family (Twigs happy hour, Mom?).

During the first week of June, I will be flying to the remote, daring, and fantastic (initiate hyperbolic intonation), Naknek, Alaska. Naknek is located about six hours southwest of Anchorage directly in the middle of... nowhere.

Why am I going to Naknek? I will be doing HR/PR and Payroll for a company there for the summer, and I'm sure you will hear all about it. My adventure in The Last Frontier, though only a couple months long, will, I'm sure come with many stories.

Three weeks after my early August Return, I will pack up my little blue Honda for the third leg of my journey, and proceed to drive across the country. (Complete with cheesy roadtrip music and a bestfriend with an SLR). The destination?  This lovely skyline:

I have been offered a position implementing a soft urban development project with Habitat for Humanity in Erie, PA. The position, funded by AmeriCorps, is one year long and a fantastic opportunity! I've never been to Erie, so I've been trying to do my research (complete with google earth creeping and flickr browsing.)

Though I still know very little about the location, the prospect of implementing a project that positively affects a community excites me. And from what I can tell about Erie, the sunsets aren't too shabby either:

 Photo Credit:http://farm7.staticflickr.com/6108/6324991775_ce910ce1f5_z.jpg

This Year Promises to be one full of new experiences, new friends and many, many stories. Here we go.

As always, Besos, 

Hil.

“When did the future switch from being a promise to being a threat?”

  -Chuck Palahniuk. Invisible Monsters.

A Not-So-Short Recap

There are few things that fly by faster than the life of a student. Especially during Senior year. From my perch on my plaid couch (that has far too much cat hair on it), I can see my University Alumni pin. That's it. I've done it. The inevitable question is of course, what's next? There is much to tell, but first let's recap. After a year of neglect, and without better prospects for a domain name, I have decided to revise this blog. Originally a study abroad blog, (mainly to appease my mother, Hi Mom!), I will (prospectively) keep the tradition going. I have a lot of moving ahead of me, and though I am excited about it, I would like to be able to document it for posterity (well...mostly because I'm super forgetful).

Before we move on, let me catch you up: 
Here is a quick pictorial recap of my Senior year at University:

After returning from my adventures abroad I had a few weeks to enjoy the family in Spokane. Also, I shaved part of my head. In retrospect, maybe not the best decision.

Back in Moscow, Patty's Mexican Kitchen became my staple. I missed that green salsa more than anything else (Just kidding, Mom)

Senior Year included my new roomie Maddie and lots of homework. When those two crossed over it pretty much looked like this.

The Beautiful Campus of UI frosted. We mostly see it this way (except for that one day in April when it is sunshiny.)

Anja  and I in Seattle

Seattle Roadtrip

We called these dinner nights Wednesdays with Benefits.

I had a whole semester with Anna before she left me for Turkey.

But not before we all went to visit Anja in Sun Valley.

My wonderful dance partner Geoff and I during a solo performance.

Christmas dance with Cori

Wine Night with the I.S. Girls.

Garrett's Mad Hatter Tea-Birthday Party.

Naturally, I was the Queen of Hearts.

This little guy came into my life :) Charlie was a pest, but we grew to love him.

My wonderful parents in a nutshell

Second Semester also meant White Paper research. Lots of hours logged in the Library. The senior thesis project took up most of our spare time and some time we didn't have.

Though I did find time to eat.

And go to a few Breweries

Kate and I had a picnic one day :)

I also met this young man, who is a little bit of  nerdy and a whole lot of awesome.

Reading on our way to Portalndia

Oh yeah and I graduated.

So what now? You'll just have to wait and see....

Besos,
Hil

A Week of Independence

For the last week and a half I have been staying in a friends apartment. There has been an emptiness since the rest of the members of my program, all my new friends that had been such a huge part of my life all went home. All week I've been reading Facebook status' and tweets of friends and acquaintances as they rejoice in their homecoming, seeing family, friends and summer. And here I am.

Part of me thought that the reason I wanted to stay was because of the people I had met. If I could just freeze time it would be ideal, that my love for the city existed within the experiences and the friends I had made which may be partly true. But since everyone left, I have found myself entering a comfortable routine with the city. Walking the streets, the parks, the ferias, not as a tourist, on a mission to see anything in particular, but as a sort of resident, appreciating living somewhere. I haven't gone to any museums, landmarks or famous cafes as I expected, I haven't tried to squeeze in the 'last few things' on my list, partly because I know I could never do it all, and partly because I know I will be back. I've been content. Sitting on the balcony, reading Marquez and Borges, making crepes, taking walks. The chilly winter weather has recently given way to a more humid, week of fog, giving the city a look of mystery and complacency.

As I walk these streets, or look out the window at the buildings with straight balconies, grimy walls, the mixture of architecture, ancient, modern and dated, cohabiting the blocks. The things I once found strange are endearing, common and necessary. Looking at Buenos Aries this way it's easy to forget the government, the economic instability, the dark and revolutionary history I have been overly exposed to in university for the past semester.

A big city that was once strange and exotic, is now comfortable, I'm used to the women in weird shoes with their waist length hair, and the italian lilt of the conversations I can almost understand. I'm used to repeating myself, and the questions about my hair, or my eyes or my nationality (apparently I look French and or German?) I'm having a difficult time thinking about leaving, My heart is torn, but as I said, I know I'll be back, You don't forget a place like this.

Feria el libros en Plaza Italia

Botanical Gardens in Palermo

Como Siempre,
Besos,
Hil

Your eyes love to travel to see the places, but your heart? Your heart travels for the people. 

Thank you Traveling Travelers. I couldn't have asked for anything better.

The Real Danger

I think I have been in this city enough time to discuss danger, a topic about which my mother will no doubt be keen to hear (sorry Mom!). It must be said that danger in a city is inevitable, and in a city of this size, danger is the elephant in the room that everyone is talking about.

When I first arrived, we had the all too familiar orientations. Sometimes these orientations said helpful things like, 'get cash here' or 'only monedas on the busses,' but normally the point was to scare us careful; a phrase which here means: To make a person so fearful of robbery, mugging, rape and the like, that they will never let anything they own out of their sight." "Ojos Abiertos" meaning "Keep your eyes on the watch at all times" was a phrase used by not only my program directors, but by my host mother, friends, faculty and, more than one old bus driver.

I get it, I get it. The city is dangerous. Be careful, don't be stupid, blah blah blah. Easy. Right? Wrong. It may amaze you to discover that I quite enjoy people. Frolicking, laughing, telling stories. It only seems logical that I would surround myself with like-minded people. The words 'cautious' and 'inconspicuous' don't tend to follow us around.

I thought the city would make me more pensive, which it no doubt has, but I think it has also made me more cautious. Not in the lock your doors and shut your windows to the world kind of way, but in the way that there's always just a little nagging suspicion that there could be something awry around the corner.

There is something unsettling about the feeling of being on a dark street at night, or being alone in an unmarked taxi. And may I say from experience, there is nothing that will pump straight adrenaline into your veins like being aggressively approached by a stranger on a quiet street corner. In a city full of people, you would think I would pine for a moment of solitude, but I actually quite dislike it. I prefer busy streets, lit walkways, lots of traffic, a not so silent sentiment to the fact that when I am surrounded, I feel the safest.

Here in Buenos Aires, caution is necessary, but on the flip side, danger is everywhere. Wait you say... that's not positive, Hilary. But the old two negatives make a positive just might work in this situation; hear me out. If danger is everywhere, than it can pretty much be habitually avoided. If you're just as careful in the café as you are on the streets, and try to acclimate as best as your little darwin gene will let you, (this  coming from the albino in BA) you may not be immune to danger, but you will definitely stress less about it. Also, quick tip ladies: keep the important stuff, in your bra (guys: Jock strap?).

The key part of danger is to not let it come in the way of experiences. I'm sure this is the last thing Mom wanted to hear me say but it's true. If you're too scared to ride the colectivos-- you're going to miss the art festival, if you're to scared to walk home from school-- you're not going to discover the most delicious empanada shop on Juramento, That rad museum? Forget it unless you grow a pair and explore Chinatown.

In all reality, I don't mind it. In fact I love it. The danger makes me feel a little devil-may-care and to be honest, it's refreshing to be somewhere with this many people being so alert. There's always the dumb american girl who's yelling loudly at her friend about how lost they are, or the european tourist who left his backpack unzipped, but for the most part, the locals are cautions and conscious, which I admire. To them, eating at a restaurant with their bag on their lap isn't an inconvenience, it's natural. I like natural.

These are the things you'll learn, and the reason you'll never want to leave.

As always,
Besos,
Hil

El Cine

Last week I had the privilege of attending a film showing Elefante Blanco (White Elephant); a film set in the flavelas of Retiro, in Buenos Aires. With a spectacular script, Elefante Blanco humanized both the role of the flavelas and the catholic church in the city in a way I have never seen on screen before. The importance of Catholicism to the people here is undeniable, and this film so honestly portrayed the informal interactions of priests within these neighborhoods. It also allowed for an understanding of the interworking of an area of Buenos Aires I will never see. The film was entirely in spanish and I didn't have subtitles to bail me out, but it was well worth the brain power. Elefante Blanco was directed by Pablo Trapero and premiered at the Cannes Film festival earlier this year. The neighborhood in which this film took place is three train stops away from my station; about fifteen minuets.

Two days ago I attended the film premier of El Premio//The Prize. Part of the Festival International de Cine de los Derechos Humanos (International Film Festival of Human Rights), The film followed Cici, a 9 year old girl, through the story of a life in hiding from an Argentine regime during the Dirty War Era. The film was brilliant, and though there were subtitles (Something I did not expect) they were unnecessary. The acting was powerful, and often wordless, and the film beautifully captured the fear, confusion, longing and innocence of the protagonist. The filmography was natural and the characters honest. The most interesting element of the film was the way sound was incorporated. The sound wasn't buffered, muffled or adjusted to be the same volume the entire film. In fact, in contrast to the Hollywood norm, the sounds varied in volume so drastically that you felt the shock, pain and annoyance along with the characters; an element I believe did nothing but add to the film itself. El Premio was produced by a Mexican Film company in 2011, and ran 107 min. It was directed by Paula Markovitch and has won numerous awards including Best Picture at the Morlina Film Festival. I was also fortunate enough to meet the two actresses who stared in the movie, Paulina Galinelli Hertzog, who plays Cici, and Viviana Suraniti who plays Maestra Rosita.

Cici (left) and friend in the Cold Southern Beach Setting of El Premio

Photo Credit

It's a good time to be in Argentina. If you're a film junkie, head on down.

As always,
Besos,
Hil

The Contrast.

The city is beautiful in the fog. The mystery is alive and the imagination wide. As I sit in a cafe that is both strange and welcoming, the contrast of my location starts to sink in. Here is a city still fighting for its identity, plagued with contradiction and wide to the idea of a moment of solidity. This is a place of ongoing revolution, where people are strong in what they believe, and often even stronger in what they do not. There is a hardness that blankets the streets, but within this, hearts dictate the direction.

As my sugar dissolves slowly into my coffee, my hands shake, both from the excitement of being in a new place and lack of nourishment. This is a city where you can live off of carne and coffee, where sitting in a cafe for hours isn't a bother, it's expected, where pouring out your heart isn't revolutionary or deep, it is conversation. Here is where the language is sung rather than spoken and the phenomena of the streets are only surpassed by that of the people. The stares no longer matter, the danger, I now expect, what matters is how I feel; and here, where I least belong, I find myself feeling at home.

The Haunted Mansion

Within the Museo de Arte Español Enrique Lareta, there is a display featuring the works of famous Argentine poet Alejandra Pizarnik, coupled with hand drawn interpretations of her works by Santiago Caruso. Though spanish literature is often difficult, the effect was not lost on me. The haunting representations used female sexuality, coupled with the ideas of as a corporal animation. The macabre scenes pictured women as marionettes, fictional animals, and skeletal structures. Children were pictured not as sacred, but as temporal. These drawings (Acuarela sobre papel) sat side by side with poems of the same haunting nature. Below is an experpt from one of her poems El Despertar. 

The beauty of her images, riddled with dark features, were often reworked impressions of tales such as Alice in Wonderland. There is an air of despair within her writing, which may have been a clue into the depression that eventually led to her drug induced suicide in 1972. 

The museum was one of my favorites so far. The old house in which it was set, held remnants of the elite family that once owned it, and not unlike most other museums and homes here in Buenos Aires, there were many Catholic sculptures and paintings of biblical figures. 

Over all, a well spent, introspective afternoon, followed by lunch with a friend, a wonderful way to spend a Thursday afternoon. 

As Always,

Besos, 

Hil

St. Patrick's Cathedral

La Iglesia San Patricio

A Church told me a tale tonight,

As I listened in the dark, 

The pillars screamed injustices, 

The limestone whispered, "Hark!

The angels no more sing to herald,

now their songs lament, 

The five, the mighty chosen stones, 

The fallen represent,

Airplanes dropped the gift of life, 

into the mighty sea, 

But though we closed our doors, our hearts, 

The waves we could not flee."

Above the arch a bird so white, 

Nestled in the stones, 

And her companion black as night,

Builds in me a taunting fright, 

That we may never see it right, 

And shame it with a camera light, 

This church that none can own. 

“Maybe mistakes are what make our fate... without them what would shape our lives? Maybe if we had never veered off course we wouldn't fall in love, have babies, or be who we are. After all, things change, so do cities, people come into your life and they go. But it's comforting to know that the ones you love are always in your heart... and if you're very lucky, a plane ride away” 

-Carrie Bradshaw. Sex and the City. 

The thing about a city is, you are never quite sure where  you will end up. Plan it out, get a map, google it to your hearts content, but the streets have a bigger say than you do in your destination. This past week has been a week of failed plans. A circus we missed, a bar we never found, a museum that was closed. The beauty in mistakes, is what you find when you should have taken a right. 

As one prone to mistakes, misinformation, and a lot of left turns, I'm learning that in the city, it's important to understand that whether you reach your destination, or just wander around a Jewish synagogue (these things happen), the pieces of adventure we share, make the mis-adventures worthwhile.

This week, I turned 21. A monumental number to many. Spending a birthday not only away from home, but away from those people who make birthdays special for me, was difficult. All the things I would be doing in Moscow and Spokane, here, seemed unimportant. My left hand turn had taken me to Argentina and I would have to walk into my twenty first birthday surrounded by those I had known only a short while. The beautiful thing about people, is how we are wired to slip into each others lives, seamlessly filling the holes and the gaps the heart has created. The distance from my family was still there, my best friends still absent, but there was no doubt that we had, amongst ourselves, formed a family of our own. Perhaps it's a want of experiences, or perhaps it is out of necessity that friendships like these form, creating a blanket of protection from loneliness in a city of this size.

Maybe Carrie is right. Maybe mistakes do make our fate. In a jungle the size of Buenos Aires, a day without mistakes does not exist. and all those left hand turns? I think eventually they'll take you in the right direction. Following the map, can only get you so far, after that, you have to trust that what has slipped into your life, will lead you to the right road. And sometimes, wandering the streets with no destination at all, is the best way to find what you're really looking for.

As always,
Besos,
Hil

Iguazú Falls

This past weekend, we threw all our cares to the wind, hopped on a plane and went to the most northeastern province of Argentina bordering Paraguay and Brazil. Nestled in this amazonian region is one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the world, known as Iguazú Falls, and frankly, you really have to see it to understand. The beauty of this place has a way of knocking the words and the sanity right out of you. We also visited a Guarani village, the Triple frontier (a vantage point where Argentina, Paraguay, and Brazil meet), a mate plantation, ancient ruins, and some beautiful jungle. I could not have asked for a better getaway, or a better group of people to take the journey with me. Enjoy!

PSA: The combination of midterms, travel, and being an inherently easy person to distract, I have, indeed skipped some travel videos, but I promise it is for your viewing pleasure that I am taking my time with both Bariloche and Mendoza.


As Always,
Besos,
Hil

"Be grateful for the home you have, knowing that
at this moment, all you have is all you need."
Sarah Ban Breathnach

Two Portraits of Home today: 

As Always,
Besos,
Hil

Give Me 5: Women

Culture Me

A week or so ago, I played the cheap card, donned my hipster shoes, and headed to the free exhibits at the  Malba. One of the best known modern art museums in Buenos Aires the Malba has hosted many famous artists in it's lifespan including Xu Solar, Diego Rivera, Antonio Berni, Frida Kahlo, and Jorge de la Vega. Chances are, you know at least one name on that list. You get it, impressive stuff. This also happened to be the weekend of the BAFICI, also known as a free film and arts festival. After taking in the wonderful, wild and wacky art (Think everything from classic muralist, to satirical feminist brail collages),   Tiff, Monae, Andrea and I headed to this mall that housed an event center and a free concert. After the free concert, we sat on the steps outside the shopping center to take in some local musical talent in the form of five wonderful street performers. Good times. Good people*.

Because we weren't allowed to take photos, I wasn't able to get the names of all the artists featured, so I'm sure there is some form of copyright discrepancy playing out in the following photos. I will also be naming the pieces of art myself. I heretofore claim 'not guilty' to owning any of these. Also, Andrea took most of them anyway. Sneaky girl. 

*I officially miss anyone that would understand this reference 

Outside of the Malba (obviously?)

I do wish you could see the line of hipsters more clearly

I call this one: Woman staring at deformed bear cub around neon fire.

Giant melty plastic pieces in abstract form

I don't have a name for this one, but one of the monster things had boobs.

This was part of the 'Bye Bye American Pie exhibit.' 

I've fondly named this one: Pretty sure this has already been done with 

Helen Bonham Carter's face in Alice and Wonderland advertisements in 2010

Finally cleaned out from under my bed, here, you can have it. 

My dad would steal this bench in a heartbeat

Anna Hein in 65 years

This was the band we saw. The lead singer strikingly resembled Edna Mode 

I don't remember their name. The bassist was a badass. Think Sloan in Raise Your Voice

Inside of the Shopping/Event Center

Of course there was an indoor ferris wheel. 

Waiting for Monae to finish taking pictures

The street band. Yes, that is a cello and our friend with the beard is singing Willie Nelson

As always, Besos, 

Hil