Field Trip to Marshall Partie Deux

Christ is born. Glorify Him!

My first whole day in Marshall was pretty much perfect. I woke up at my leisure, watched the sun rise from over the mountains from my window as I ate oatmeal feeling completely at peace. I got a call from Clara telling me that we were going to start Slaviq at 2pm at Sasha and Nick's house down the street, so I put on my winter gear and headed out into the -50 degree weather to begin taking part in their unique custom.

Sasha and Nick were one of the happiest and cutest elderly couples I had ever met. They are the kind of couple that when you meet them, you say a little prayer begging God for a taste of such a collective love and joy should you ever marry. Sasha had on a traditional Yup'ik garments as well as a crocheted Russian hair covering pinned neatly to her silver hair. Nick was a shorter rounder man with eye brows longer than the small patch of hair he had on the top of his head. He had the greatest sense of humor. Everything seemed to make him laugh.

It had been a tradition for many years in my own family to visit the grandmother's best friends, the Egly's, on Christmas Eve. They reminded me so much of this Yup'ik couple. Their warmth, generosity, and sincere welcoming of me, brought me back to the Egly's home as I sat there quietly watching them talk about how much they love their grandchildren and greet everyone walking through the door with such excitement it was as if they hadn't seen them in months. I've missed my Christmas traditions this year and the memories of ones from years past. But sharing this experience with all of them made me not feel like I was home exactly, but more like home was with me. I felt my grandmother there. Taking a deep breath I looked down to gather myself, as I felt a tear glide down my cheek.

As I had previously mentioned in my last post, a connection with deceased ones and a fearless openness to the spiritual world is alive and present in this culture. In true traditional form, the elder Mike started talking with me and telling me stories of his life, his culture, and his Marshall. One story that truly struck me was that of the special gift of his grandfather to see these dead relatives. He said that the spirits were with them always, but extremely present during the holidays (which I had actually been told back in Bethel as well). Mike's grandfather said he wished he could see through his eyes, so that he could see the spirits too. He said his grandfather would be more likely to look into the eyes of the "namesake" or spirit rather than the alive person in front of him. His grandfather taught him to constantly feel connected to all life, this life, the next, and anything to everything in between. Mike looked at me saying, "We really believe this". I looked back at him and said, "I truly believe you". We sat there for a moment in silence, and then more people started to gather in the room.

A group of children came in and Nick invited me over to sit with them. As soon as I sat down a little girl and little boy jumped on my lap asking me dozens of questions. "What's your name? Where are you from? Do you like it here? Who do you know? Is this really your hair? Why do your eyes look like that?" Then the one girl put her head on my arm and I asked her if she wanted to sit with me. Her face lit up as she hopped over the arm chair and sat next to me. She clung tightly to my arm and called me "mommy". Then she began to play with my hair and "style" it. I love having people play with my hair and playing with kids, so I was in heaven. Until I felt a strong pull on my head and looked back at the little girl. "What did you do?" I asked. She said, "I wanted a piece of your hair". All of us laughed.

Then with a kid in my lap, to my left, leaning on my legs, and behind me clinging to me, the room fell silent as the star, spinning cone, and flag entered the house. An elder named Mike explained to me that the spinning cone with represented creation and the world before Christ, the star represented Christ's birth because it was like the star that the three wise men followed, and the flag represented Christ's resurrection and Ascension into heaven. Each had a small icon on them coinciding with their symbolism. The Slaviq had begun.

The leader of the choir motioned all fifty or so of us in this tiny room to start singing. We sang in Russian, Yup'ik and English. When I asked Mike if he spoke all of these languages he looked at me slightly befuddled and said, "of course". As a lover of languages, I was incredibly humbled. The singing lasts for about half an hour with all facing the cone, star, and flag in the front of the room. They go for about a week visiting each home in the town and every home takes turn feeding the people traditional Native foods and sweets. One of my favorite parts was towards the end of the singing where they bless the owners of the house, all in it, and all who had passed away. This was a very emotional segment, as you can imagine, especially for the Yup'ik people.

Afterwards an elder, usually from the home, gives a somewhat of a speech or lesson to all there. Each time they were entirely in Yup'ik, which was a very special sight for me. The elder woman with her head covered and a history of wisdom etched on her face stood up and began to speak to us with such passion and concern. For half an hour she spoke about how sad she was that people were loosing their Native ways and that the young people weren't being taught the importance of forgiveness by their parents. Living in an area of such brokenness and abandonment, I understood why she spoke so thoroughly on forgiveness. She told the youth to listen to the knowledge and advice given by the elders, for it was their way and it had more value than they could find anywhere else. Concluding, she emphasized the importance of going to church, whether Russian Orthodox or Catholic. The absolute necessity for God's Holy Word in our lives was pronounced by her so boldly, that I know even inspired the usual church goers. When she had finished, she sat hunched over with her face in her hands and wept bitterly. Another elder said in English, "she cries in sorrow for the souls of the youth that refuses to change".

I was emotional. I was exhausted. I was grateful. I was officially part of Slaviq.