Brother Francis Shelter-Anchorage

I had the opportunity to tour the Brother Francis Shelter in Anchorage last week, one of the only homeless shelters in Anchorage (some provide shelter for only women, are transition housing as opposed to a homeless shelter, or participation in religious services of some sort are required). It was an interesting place to visit, and the need is great as 200-300 people a night are housed at the shelter and Beans Cafe.

The shelter is on 3rd Avenue, and when we pulled into the parking lot of the modern building, there was a crowd of men hanging out in the parking lot in front of Beans Cafe, across the parking lot from the Brother Francis Shelter. Free breakfast and lunch are provided daily at Beans Cafe, while a hot dinner is offered each night at the Shelter. Anyone could walk in and eat there, though each person has to sign in to keep track of numbers for grants.

The Brother Francis Shelter was built in 2005 and has a new, modern feel to it. The parking lot is paved, and the first smell upon walking into the building is bleach. A wide open reception area acts as the hub of this facility, with the dining area and kitchen beyond it to the right. After the evening meal the benches are folded up and sleeping mats are put down. Also off of the entryway are a computer lab and a laundry. Computers are for those staying or working in the shelter; people are allowed to play games with the logic that they need to become comfortable using technology and playing games facilitate this comfort.

Off the common area/dining room a clothing room was stacked with shoes, sweaters, pants, jackets, etc. The administrative assistant of the shelter who gave us the tour said the greatest need for clothing was hats, socks and undergarments, and they are always accepting donations. The clothing room is open for certain hours each day and visits are limited to 5 minutes.

A doctor's office/exam room is near the entrance as well, with shots being one of the common uses of this area. Behind that are the administrative offices. Ironically, no grant money is provided for homeless shelters, but monies are available for staffing them and providing assistance to people who walk in the doors. Thus, there were cubicles for about 8 support staff, not all who are necessarily full-time or employed by the shelter.

Lockers are available for workers at the shelter. Homeless people who come in can apply to work at the Brother Francis Shelter for 4-6 months. If they get a job there, they sleep there each night, but they also can receive mail, get a locker and stay in the building during the day. All other people must be out of the building by about 9 am each day (if my memory serves me right). Without these unpaid workers, the facility would not be able to keep its doors open. It is a win-win situation, with the people using the facility helping keep it running, and it provides a base for those people who are motivated to improve their situation.

There are women's and men's dorms, which are cleared out each morning. Another section of the shelter has apartments where people who are getting off drug or alcohol dependency can stay. There are specific requirements for these people to stay, and they are checked on regularly by paid staff. A storage room is also provided for people who cannot take their belongings with them each day.

This shelter is run by Catholic Social Services (See their website at http://www.cssalaska.org/html/programs/brother-francis.php), but the faith component is not 'pushed' as it is at some other local shelters. Some people end up at the shelter because they come in out of the bush, thinking there are plenty of jobs in Anchorage. Others come from the Lower 48, drawn by the allure of Alaska, also thinking there are plenty of jobs here. Yet others find that they cannot afford the exorbitant prices of housing when working on low wages. Life happens to others. No one under the age of 18 can stay at this shelter; a women's shelter provides housing for women with children (one had better not be a man with children, otherwise they will have a difficult time finding a place to go).

It gave me pause to visit the Brother Francis Shelter and contemplate the difficulties of being homeless in Alaska. I've seen plenty of people living out of their cars or in the parks around Anchorage; the Brother Francis Shelter provides a system that can help those who want to get out of that cycle of homelessness. There are opportunities available for food, shelter, mail, health care, clothing and more, all centered around this one building that is operating on a shoestring budget. I think a donation there could go a long ways.

McHugh Creek Hike--Anchorage

Every time I drive from Anchorage to Homer, I gaze longingly at all the hiking trails along the Turnagain Arm. Last week I had some time on a beautiful, warm sunny morning since one of my meetings in Anchorage was canceled. I chose McHugh Creek for the hike because the parking area was well developed (4 restrooms on 3 different levels of paved parking!) and it is often packed when I drive by.

Apparently this is one trailhead of a trail system that extends the length of the Turnagin Arm. After a short climb above the parking area, the trail leveled out into a muddy morass. It was a cool morning so the mud was mostly frozen so it wasn't too bad. After 10 or 15 minutes of walking the trail turned into hard packed dirt for most of the rest of the way. I headed back towards Anchorage, in the direction of Potter's Marsh, which was 3 miles away. It was a pleasant hike, with poplar and aspen trees rising above the trail. Glimpses of Turnagain Arm were visible in places, including one rocky overlook about halfway to Potter's Marsh, but in the summer when the trees are all leafy I doubt there would be much view.

On this particular morning it must have been uber athlete morning. Two groups of amazingly fit women dashed by, first in one direction, then back. It is a great quick hike, since it is only a few miles south of where the Seward Highway freeway ends in Anchorage. Point-to-point hikes would be easy, parking in different lots and hiking (running!) from one end to the other. It costs $5 each time to park in one of these areas, or a year-long pass can be purchased for about $40. There are undeveloped pulloffs nearby so if someone were cheap they could park at one of these and walk up the road. I was surprised to see signs to lock up your car and hide valuables posted throughout the parking area; apparently these areas are a target.

I look forward to exploring more of this trail system when I'm up in the Anchorage area!

"The Dome" in Anchorage

While Saturday in Anchorage was a nice day at about 45 degrees, today we've had 5-7 inches of snow fall. With conditions like this, it is no surprise that Anchorage has a dome for indoor track meets, soccer games and even football. Saturday was the first track meet of the season, with 31 schools participating in dozens of events over two days. As we were driving down Minnesota Dr., the dome rose above the mounds of gravel in the industrial section like a huge pile of manure. Taking the Raspberry Road exit, we pulled into a packed parking lot.

The dome is a plastic, pressurized, blown-up building. Special doors keep it pressurized, and Douglas even mentioned that his ears popped when we left the building. Inside there are a few offices and the just-over-a-1/4 mile track is right there. Stands about 10 benches high line one entire length of the building. A weight lifting area is tucked into one corner, while the high jumping, pole vaulting and 3 portapotties are tucked into another. Midfield, the teams were spread out, each one claiming a spot with sleeping bags, pillows and equipment set out. The shot put and discus were at the far end of the field, with netting protecting everyone from flying missiles.

I was impressed with the efficiency the meet seemed to be run with. Officials had their computers hooked up for photo finishes and timing; a number of people were hooked up with earpieces for communication with other officials; binoculars were out; on-track officials got race after race of kids lined up and out of the starting blocks. From looking at the schedule, it was running on time, quite a feat.

What probably impressed me most is what an advantage Anchorage athletes have over athletes from nearly every other community in Alaska to have the use of this dome. In Homer, the fields still have snow on them and the kids will be heading up to Anchorage this weekend to play the first soccer game of the season in this dome, and yet they have yet to run one lap up a field. They've been playing in gyms, like soccer players all over Alaska, while Anchorage players can be on turf all winter long. Yet this is still an awesome thing to have a dome so that playing can happen at all. Outdoor games in 30 or 40 degree weather and rain or snow are not fun (for most--some uber athletes in AK do love such challenges!).

A High School Dance

Circumstances conspired to end me up at the high school chaperoning the Spring Fling dance last night. Having only been to three dances in my life, two of them proms, I was curious what it would be like. It was....a fascinating study into the lives of teenagers, dances and Homer High School.

I decided I wanted to be on the periphery, so I recruited a friend to run the coat check with me. We arrived 30 minutes before the dance was to start and placed sticky notes on the walls all around the office every three feet, each with a letter of the alphabet. When students arrived they would come up, we would write their last name on a sticky note, stick it to their coat, cell phone, boots or whatever, and put it in a pile under the letter of the last name. When kids want something (make a phone call, check their text, etc.) they would come and ask for their stuff. Jackets and purses are strictly prohibited in the dances. Cell phones are technically not allowed, but that is not strictly enforced. It was a cold, rainy night, so every single kid had a jacket so we stayed busy.

Once the students checked their items, they would get into line in the lobby to get into the dance. Every student has to sign a 2-page code of conduct in order to attend the dance. Some dances students from other high schools in the district are allowed to come (they still have to sign up, through a student in our high school), but this one was for Homer High students only. Upon paying their $7 to get in, each student would get a wristband with their name written on it. Then they were in. The dance started at 8 pm. If a student came in after 9 pm, we had to contact the principal or assistant principal for special permission to let them in, they would be searched and given a sobriety test. One student came in at 9:10. When told he would have to take a sobriety test to enter the dance, he chose to leave rather than be tested.

Students can go out of the building as far as the flagpole in front (about 20 feet). If they go beyond that at any time during the dance they cannot come back in. In other words, they cannot run out to their car for anything. One student wanted to run out to his car for something so the principal offered to walk him out to his car, but the student declined the offer.

The biggest issue with dances is dirty dancing, which is not allowed but in the past was not enforced. Some students are so outraged that they are not allowed to dirty dance (basically simulating sex positions and other intimate 'grinding' on the dance floor) that they told the principal they were not going to come to the dance. The principal just laughed and said, "I would be happy to stay home and hang out with my family." The principal and vice principal walk around the dance with a marker, flashlight and scissors. All chaperones also have markers. If a student is caught dirty dancing they get a black mark on their wristbands, which is their first warning. The second time they get another mark and they cannot dance anymore. Their wristband is cut off. They can stay in the dance area talking to friends, but they cannot dance. This time, parents of those students are going to get a letter home informing them that their student was kicked off the dance floor for dirty dancing. If a student is found back on the dance floor without a wristband they are kicked out of the dance. Before this year, there was no system for handling this issue. Students would be warned numerous times by different chaperones to not dirty dance, but there was no way to monitor it. This system has helped reduce this problem, though not eradicated it.

Dances are something the kids want and everyone else puts up with. They are a great source of income: last night's dance with 130 kids (about 1/3 of the school) brought in $1000, which goes into class coffers to pay for all the special senior events. Some dances have as many as 250 kids. The DJ is a talented Homer High School student who has most of his own equipment and travels around the Kenai Peninsula putting on dances for $250/night. Teachers and parents are recruited to be chaperones, and of course the principal and vice principal have to be there. Parents are welcome to come in and check on their kids, and parents do come in.

Walking around the building and checking out the parking lot is part of the job for my husband, and when he walks down to the parking lot, cars sometimes take off. It is part of the system for keeping the campus drug and alcohol free.

A big part of the fun of dances for the kids (at least the girls) seems to be the pre-dance dress-up party. We have hosted this twice now for our exchange student and her friends. We don't have a big house, so five girls running back and forth between bathrooms and bedroom, trying on clothes, changing their hair, putting on, taking off and and reapplying makeup is plenty. I have seen these parties get as many as 15 girls; I can't even imagine it. The pre-dance party culminates in the girls posing for pictures. They have names for all the various poses, and even if I don't understand what they are saying, all the kids know exactly what pose goes with each term. There's the prim and proper (these are my terms!), the sexy/provocative, the crazy, the tongues hanging out, and on and on. It is not proper to show up to the dance at 8; 8:45 is the 'correct' time to show up, though kids do trickle in before then.

Seeing what kids wear is fascinating. If guys dress up at all, I'd be surprised. Mostly they wear jeans and a button-up shirt, not tucked in. Usually girls wear very skimpy dresses that are about as low as you can go without showing all and and as high as you can go without showing all. The biggest challenge for the girls is keeping their clothes from falling off or falling apart during the dance. This dance was 'casual' so the dress was more varied for the girls: many short, short shorts, a variety of dresses, jeans, leggings and whatnot. A lot of make up seems to be standard. My husband wonders if the parents know what their kid is wearing at the dance (because of the pre-dance parties many parents don't see their kids before they go), and they have contemplated taking pictures of the kids as they walk in and emailing them to the parents! "Do you know what your child is wearing tonight?"

The most notable thing, though, is that all the kids are respectful, polite and do what they are told. Even the handful of kids who were kicked out of the dance were not rude. And some kids at Homer High are quite avant garde, yet other kids do not harass or pick on them. Mostly the kids seem to have the attitude that you can be who you want to be. Like my husband said, some of these kids would have been beaten up at the high school where he went to school, but here very different kids co-exist fairly peacefully.

Overall, it was quite an education. These are not something I would ever want to go to myself, and I deeply hope my kids never want to go to dances. There are so many other fun things to do with one's time than jump up and down (Homer's style of 'dancing', if you can call it that) with a hundred other teens in a dark room to deafening music. Give me a walk on the beach any day. Yet, on the scale of things, school dances are probably as 'clean' as you are going to get with the majority of teenagers today. It is better than having them out on Bishops Beach hanging around a campfire doing who knows what. But dances only happen five times a year so for five nights a year kids can have this fun, and the rest of us will put up with it!

Emergency Services

A freak accident today brought me face to face with one aspect of Homer I'd never thought about before: its emergency medical services. Relegated to "A service I won't ever need," I appreciated the speed of response of the EMT's and ambulance. Here's what happened:

We were in the kitchen cooking when I noticed a pan of hot grease smoking. I grabbed it to move to a cool burner and the hot grease splashed my hand. After the most bloodcurdling scream I've ever screamed in my life, I immediately turned on the water and shoved my hand under the stream, told Aurora to call 911 and I proceeded to give the dispatcher the basic info of address, phone number and injury. I chuckled mentally when they asked for directions in addition to the address; the side streets around Homer are a maze and roads look like driveways or houses have no driveways or any other set of weird scenarios.

While waiting for the ambulance (which I thought was overkill but they have to send one) I called Douglas and left a message on his cell phone and then pulled off my wedding band, at which I sent up another scream as the skin sloughed off. I started feeling sweaty and woozy, and it seemed an eternity but was only minutes before Douglas called back and headed home and then a strange car came inching down our icy driveway. It was the first EMT on the scene. Within a minutes two more vehicles pulled up, spitting out EMTs, then my husband peeled in (wondering at the party with so many vehicles) and a minute or two after that the emergency medical truck and the ambulance completed the entourage.

EMTs number two and three assessed the burn and dressed it, we declined transport in the ambulance, filled out paperwork and hopped in the car to head to the hospital.

The emergency room was expecting us, got me right into a room, cut off the bandage, applied a moist saline covering to keep the burn from drying out and then the small town social whirl started.

First one of the nurses walked in and introduced herself as the neighbor across the street (one of the few neighbors we hadn't met), and by time she left we'd signed our kids up to mow her huge lawn come summer.

Then the doctor came in to assess the wound. When he found out Douglas is vice principal at the high school he said, "I need to talk to him." Apparently this doctor pledges money to Homer High School sports teams if the kids stay drug and alcohol free. We had a great conversation while he snipped away my sloughed skin and bandaged up my hand.

I put Douglas to the task of calling our church's prayer chain, his parents and my aunt to get them all praying, to me as essential as dressing the wound.

Before I left they'd made my appointment to see a family doctor tomorrow (yes, on Saturday!) to change my dressing and continue monitoring progress (the severity of a burn is not always immediately evident and I may need therapy to regain full range of motion). An hour in the emergency room ended up being a fast, fun social hour, not something one can normally say about ER visits. It helped that there was virtually no pain, a fact the attending nurse could not believe (she said I should be screaming in agony considering the severity of the burn).

I kept expecting the pain to hit all afternoon, but instead what little pain I had disappeared. I have now had the privilege to see up close what Homer's emergency services are like, and also what it is like to type an entire blog entry with one hand!

P.S. I assure you, you don't want a picture of this, though the hospital did take one!

The Iditarod Start!

The start of the Last Great Race on Earth!
Iditarod #39!

We've had things going on every year during the Iditarod start, but this year we committed to going despite basketball regionals going on in Homer. We left Douglas and Aurora to the basketball games and headed up to Anchorage Friday. I opted to stay in the Sheraton in downtown Anchorage since it was only two blocks away from 4th Avenue that the Iditarod racers would be heading down for the ceremonial start on Saturday.

I didn't see many signs of the upcoming race until nearly 10:00 p.m. Friday night when I looked out the 14th floor window and noticed dump trucks full of snow rolling in, dumping their loads on 4th Avenue, and taking off. I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve, with the excitement building for the upcoming race. I pondered how the mushers must feel, knowing the big moment had nearly arrived to hit the trail.

Saturday morning when I looked out the window the course was set, a swatch of snow a foot or so deep with extra ridges on the outside to keep the dogs and sleds on track. The intersection a block from the Sheraton was covered with snow and monitored by police and snow shovelers, allowing traffic through.

We got down to 4th Avenue at almost 10 am, where the course makes a 90 degree turn onto C Street. Before we knew it, a dogsled and team came sliding by. I thought perhaps it was just a forerunner, but come to find out that was the first racer. Soon a steady stream of racers came by; they were set to start every two minutes. There were 60+ racers, so that was a few hours of starts.

We made our way through the ever-thicker crowds closer to the starting line, passing a parking garage lined with fans. We arrived at the starting line but could hardly see anything with the crowds four deep, but some people left and we got a front-row view just as Lance Mackey, the winner of the past four Iditarods, came up to the line, got his dogs ready and took off. He looked much more human (!!) than the videos I'd seen of him out on the race course in previous years, but after 2 weeks on the trail, sleep deprived and weathered, I'm sure he'll be roughed up! That was the highlight of the day for me.

After seeing a few starts we continued up 4th Aveune in an attempt to stay warm and to check out the staging area. Temperatures were at 3 degrees and calm at 10 am, and had warmed up to 9 degrees an hour later as the sun rose above the buildings. I had on my balaclava, hat, neckwarmer, hood, two pairs of gloves, two pairs of socks and numerous layers on my torso so I was mostly comfortable, though Elisa wore only holey jeans and a couple pairs of tights so she was a bit chillier.

I found the staging area neater than the starting line and race itself. Here we were closer to the dogs and the handlers, though there was still a fence dividing the fans from the racing volunteers, dog trucks and handlers. All the side streets were covered with snow and dogs were in various stages of getting ready for the race: chained to the bumpers of trucks, drinking, sitting inside their hay-lined nooks or being harnessed up.

It was really exciting to be at the starting of the Iditarod. I've watched so many movies, read about, talked about and seen the dogs and racers around the state that it seemed like it was the place to be. The ceremonial start was just a 15 mile jog up to Eagle River; many people headed up there to see the dogs and mushers come in, and then on to the re-start on Sunday at Willow. We were on a tight schedule and so didn't make it up to either of those. Next time I think I will become a race volunteer so I get on the inside track of pre-race gatherings, parties and whatnot. Even though we just saw a tiny slice of the Iditarod, it still was thoroughly exciting to be there and be part of it and for the first time I am following the racers with their GPS trackers through the official Iditarod website, http://www.iditarod.com/.

Foreign Exchange Students in Homer

Saturday evening Douglas and I headed up to Harmon's Barn, the local meeting place for fundraisers and other local events, for an ethnic dinner made and presented by local foreign exchange students. Sponsored by AFS Intercultural Programs, five of the six local exchange students helped decorate the barn (a crude word for a delightful and tastefully decorated place), prepare and serve the food and give presentations about their countries. Four of the students present were with AFS, here from Indonesia, Egypt and Kenya (2 students). One was through Cultural Homestay International (CHI) from Mexico and one from Japan through another program. The Rotary exchange student from Saudi Arabia was not present. Many of the 40-50 attendees were past or present exchange student host families or support host families.

Izzy from Kenya was the emcee for the evening, dressed in his traditional garb. He displayed an amazing finesse in that role, particularly considering that he'd volunteered for the position only a week before and didn't even know what an emcee did before he volunteered! Each course of the meal was presented and the students from that country explained the food and gave a PowerPoint presentation with photos and highlights from their countries. A ten minute intermission between each presentation allowed us to eat and chat.

Zumma from Kenya started off the evening, sharing about the shocking high prevalence of AIDS in Kenya. Sambusa was one of the appetizers, along with fuul from Egypt and ikura from Japan.

Next Selma from Egypt presented, sharing pictures and perspectives on life and politics in Egypt.

Ella from Indonesia shared a bit about life in the 4th most populous country on earth, a country that is composed of 17,000 islands. She had full traditional garb on, and treated us to satay: gado-gado, coconut milk rice and dendeng.

While we ate dessert (basbousa from Egypt, chai tea from Kenya and halawa labanieh from Saudi Arabia) Eri from Japan and Elisa from Mexico presented about their countries, and on request by the audience our MC, Izzy, spoke about his life in Kenya.

Selma presented a belly dance, sharing that 'all the girls' in Egypt 'know how to do this.'

Finally, Ella sang and danced a traditional dance that is done at weddings and other special occasions.

It was a fun and fascinating evening, with tasty food and enjoyable company. Part of the fun was watching the exchange students and pondering how 'American' many of them seemed, despite their accents. Many people have told us that Elisa, the girl from Mexico that lives with us, looks 'just like an American.' When people say that I puzzle over it, wondering just what an 'American' looks like. To me, American is any and every culture, yet these students are proud of their heritage as much as they love Alaska.

Most students commented about the adjustment to a "small town" and "cold", laughing about what these terms meant and how their families back home couldn't conceive how cold it gets in Homer and what snow is like. It wasn't necessarily an easy adjustment. All of the exchange students who were at the dinner skied on Homer High School's cross-country ski team and a couple had raced in regionals earlier that day, wrapping up their season. Their willingness to try something different that would push them out of their comfort zone is one thing that sets exchange students apart from others who don't uproot themselves for a year. Without that willingness to experience things, it would be a long, long year.