The New Teacher

The new highschool teacher arrived this week and I met her today. We have a friend in common and so she knew who i was before she got here. Our meeting today went basically like this: "Are you N's friend?" "Yes!, oh oh!", then excited jumping up and down (me), jumping up from seat (her) then followed by hugging (both of us). Apparently now I hug complete strangers.

We're going to get along fabulously.

Employed

I am employed, Oh so employed....
I have four jobs, possibly five in the next week or so. As it stands I am bar tender, substitute teacher, rec center janitor as well as laundromat janitor. I have been told that now I am an official Atlinite. Apparently you're only official once you have more than one job at a time. I'm not sure how many hours this will all work out to be, since one cleaning job and obviously the substitute teaching job varies from week to week. I'm still applying for jobs because i would really like something a bit stable, but so far I think I'm surviving.

My current jobs were all offered to me within the week of being laid off. It worked out well that's for sure. I haven't had the chance to teach yet and honestly it freaks me out. I have never had a class to myself and each of these classes span three grades so there's lots of juggling. I've decided to volunteer some time at the school in the library since they don't have funding for a librarian. Organization here I come! Plus the principal would like me to tutor some of the kids who are having challenges with reading. I think the volunteer time is what I'm excited about the most. I love helping kids learn to read!

The high school has just hired a new teacher. She comes this week and I'm already excited. Proof of settling into a small town is when you get excited for outsiders to move in because they might be your friend. Apparently she's very nice and about my age. I hope she likes me.

Why I am Here

My reasons for coming to Atlin can mostly be summed up to an impulsive urge for adventure. I've wanted to move North for a few years, but the plan was to do so after a nice secure master's degree - probably in occupational therapy. However, as the end of my B.Sc degree came into view, I decided I needed a change right away.

My mom has cancer and for the last harrowing year my time has been divided between taking care of her, doing school full time, and working. Understandably, the dark forces of chemotherapy plus her impending death took a toll on her and the rest of the family. Some beautiful things can happen in the middle of such a terrible ordeal, but for the most part the learning has been through hardship and the beauty has occurred in the moments where mom was too sick to move. There has been a delicate balance between keeping sanity and fear in check, while attempting to prepare ourselves for reality. The prognosis was that we would have mom around for 12 months at best - probably 6. The 12 months was with the chemo fighting for her.


She did not die


My mother is not getting sicker. The doctor's cannot explain it. In fact, up to this point the cancer has been shrinking. Mom smiles at the doctors and says "I told you my God would save me". This has been her year to shine. As miserable as moments have been, I guarantee that the hospitals will never be the same. I watched her turn a Neurosurgery ward upside down. Nurses and workers stopped in to visit with her when they weren't even working. Patients went into surgery comforted by her. All while she could barely piece together a sentence (she had a tumour attacking her speech center and putting pressure on her brain). A couple of staff members had tears in their eyes when she left.

Through this experience I've had a chance to reevaluate my own life. I have a drive for adventure that I generally squish down to a small more responsible weekend activity. But over the past year I haven't been able to tone it down. I don't want to squish it any more. In fact, it grew to the point where I had to act. I realized the only reason I would stay in Prince George was because I was waiting for mom to die. I didn't want to miss the moments where she needed me. And I wanted to be there to watch over her just in case things quickly took a turn for the worse. Meanwhile she was off gallivanting in Mexico, Florida and California. We had a conversation one day and she told me that I was taking too much responsibility for her. I was waiting for her to die, and she had no intention of doing so. She told me that I should go live my life doing something that I would love - to go have adventure and excitement. She promised that if she got sicker and needed me that she would call me home.

This brings me to Why I'm here. Why go North? Why not go to a big city with hot weather and an exciting social life? I can't really explain why I don't like heat or lots of people, but I don't. It was like the North was calling me. My mother says that its in my blood. When I was little I lived in Cassiar, B.C now a building-less area. Maps now read "former town site of Cassiar". I still had memories of the biting cold, northern lights and dark days. People say that when the north is in your blood, you can't escape it. So all I can say is that I was driven north by some internal, insatiable thirst for the mountains, the northern lights and the cold. Talk to me after the winter and we'll see how I've done.

I used to paint mountains in watercolour. I painted them the way I thought mountains should look, not how the mountains around me actually looked. I made a mistake on one of my first paintings and where there should have been a crevice, there was a large smudgy looking glacier. That smudge is approximately where a rock glacier sits on the mountain right in front of me as I write this (the picture that I have posted is of a different mountain). I accidentally painted this mountain without ever seeing it. I realized when I got here that I had been painting the mountains of my childhood. That's why so many mountains - even in the Rockies - never looked quite right to me.

Moving north, my goal was to get a cushy government job in Whitehorse (it still is). The problem is that they rarely hire people who don't live up here. I'm not the only person who wants to come North for adventure. However, most people get here then run back home, so employers are wary of hiring outsiders. The cold desolation does not continue to appeal to people by the middle of February. I have a friend who lives in Atlin. I've been hearing about the place for so long that I fell in love with it before I even saw it. He invited me to stay with him while I looked for a job. I needed a northern address for a good job to take me seriously. So far I haven't found that job, but I will! And I'm so glad I came.

This is the most beautiful place I have ever seen. And the small town charm just refuses to wear off. The people are friendly and most already know who I am. This is a unique situation that I wouldn't change for anything. I'm happy here.

Unemployed

Last night the cook came to my house to inform me that I am out of a job. The Restaurant is shutting down for the winter. I found out less than 12 hours before my new shift. Obviously I am not impressed - I really like money. However, the absurdity seems somewhat fitting for my situation. I had to use the restaurant phone to call my boss and confirm if this was true...It is. So I did what any rational person would do - I looted the place...while on the phone with my boss. I told him "well, since I've got no job then I'm going to take some food with me". He didn't argue. I've got enough food to tide me over for a while. My boss mentioned that I could log some hours by cleaning up in there preparing for the shut down. I intend to do this at a nice leisurely pace.

Today was spent frantically getting together resumes and cover letters for possible job options. The small town magic has yet again worked in my favour. I went into a grocery store to see if they were hiring - they weren't. However, later in the day R. came by my house letting me know that he'd heard from the grocery store that I was looking for work and offered me a part time job. Now I'm going to try my hand at bar tending two nights a week. We'll see how that goes - since I have no idea what I'm doing!

I have also applied at the school as a substitute teacher and it looks promising. I go in tomorrow morning to meet with the principal again, plus hang out with kids and see how I get along with the teachers. I'm excited about that.

I really love this town. I hope I don't have to leave because I can't find work.

Thrift Store

There is a thrift store here. It's open from 2-4pm Friday every Friday afternoon located in the tiniest building I've ever seen. From the outside, the building looks like a playhouse situated behind the Anglican church. The picture I've uploaded is hiding the thrift store, but I'm too tired to go take another one. I'm hoping at one point to find a winter coat there for cheap. This Friday I went in and got 3 sweaters plus some yarn for a hefty $1. Apparently they were having a bag sale - all you can fit in a bag for a dollar. There was a sign indicating that large items were not included in the bag sale....

I finally took a picture of the Atlin sign on my way into Whitehorse yesterday. Headed back someone rearranged the rocks to read KKKK. White supremacists with a stutter maybe?


I don't feel much like writing at the moment since I'm still not feeling well. I figured I'd do a tiny blog to appease my dad since I haven't written in a couple of days and he got after me for it. Next time I might delve into the story of how and why I came here.

Sick Day

I am a waitress in a restaurant here. It is one of two restaurants in town vying for customers, both fighting to make it through the winter. We'll see who wins.
Today I'm sick and couldn't go in. Luckily there is a helpful woman here who will take over for me if necessary. She's not actually a server, but a local woman willing to help out. If I were sick and she couldn't cover for me we would just shut down the restaurant. If the cook is sick we definitely shut down - its an interesting situation. The owners live in Whitehorse and we're on our own during the week here without them.

We don't have a phone at my house so this morning I had to go to the restaurant to phone my replacement. I've had lots of questions about why we have no phone (not from people here of course, they completely understand). It takes about 2 months to get a phone installed here - if you're lucky. There are a lot of other everyday conveniences that people have to wait for here - water is a major one. Most people do not have wells and must have water delivered in to big cisterns. Another "convenience" is heating oil. Pretty much all the houses are heated with diesel and of course this must be delivered as well. At my house we have a well but the water isn't fit to drink. Instead, we get our water from a spring about 5 minutes away. We are some of the lucky ones. Still, since we're on a septic system we have to limit our water consumption so it doesn't back up. I miss taking baths.

I'm sitting in the living room as I write this and have a pretty view of the shack next door. My car is in the way, but I'm posting a picture of it anyways - I'm too tuckered to move the car. This type of little shack is allover town - some are lived in, some just sit on people's property, many a remnant of the gold rush.

The Men

BEARDS!
I exclaim that sincerely. There's a general stereotype of northern menfolk that generally involves a BEARD. Not just a beard, but a BEARD. The reason for the stereotype is this: Men in the North are perceived to be scraggly outdoorsmen who have gold fever, intent on spending their waking hours mining, mining, mining. The stereotype comes from the romanticism of the Gold Rush.

The stereotype is true.

Not only is the stereotype true, but the non-mining men tend to conform to the stereotype as well - especially the young ones. Half the time I feel like I'm at a Death Cab for Cutie concert, without the bum strangling emo pants (they wear normal jeans - don't confuse this statement with a town full of pants-less gentlemen).

Most of the men that I have met are quickly rushing past middle age. The rest have, for the most part, reached the home stretch. I am Waitressing here, which gives me a very interesting perspective on typical characteristics of Northern Men. Many of them are single and so tend to eat out for their meals. I am ashamed to admit that I expected a rougher crowd than I got. The best part of my day is when the groups of single men come in for coffee. My presence in this town has been quite well received by most people, particularly the single aging men. One man in particular tries to buy me lunch - very unnecessary considering that I eat at the restaurant for free plus I would have to take a break from serving him to eat. These men are easy to please! I'm confident that I could slap one or two of them and they would still smile at me tip me too much for a single cup of coffee.

All of the men know each other - 50% of them are named Gary, 25% go by the name of Bill, 10% general common names and the remaining 15% go by nicknames. Likely these 15% actually fall into the Gary or Bill categories.

I cannot attach any pictures of the local men, since i would need their permission. Instead I have posted a picture of a couple of my grizzly friends.
They mostly fit the description of the men anyways

Atlin

I am currently living in Atlin B.C. If you choose to google Atlin, you will undoubtedly find small blurbs on the beauty of the lake and the untamed wilderness along a few images involving mountains (likely with an RV in the background, complete with a retiree or two). Atlin is an unincorporated community located north of the 59th parallel (We are at 59.34). Its a secluded community since the road to Atlin...well, it only goes to Atlin. We are the destination. To get to us from the rest of BC, a traveler must first enter the Yukon, pass through Watson Lake and Teslin, then hang a left at Jake's corner. A small problem might arise if said traveler is expecting clear and obvious signage. It sneaks up on you, so keep your eye out. Also, you must take another left about 2 km down the road. This is a little clearer, since a helpful person spelled the directions out in Rocks (<-- A T L I N).

I moved here about a month ago. I had never been here and until just over a year ago I had no idea that the place existed. My reasons for moving here are for another day, but for now I will say this, I was driven North by a sense of adventure. The day I drove down the "highway" I was in awe. I've never seen a more beautiful place. I'm in love with the mountains and the lakes. However, when I say this out loud the locals look at me with nervous faces and say "yeah....you haven't been through the winter yet....get a hobby."

Blogging here I come.....