Kotlik, Alaska 99620

                  If you have ever been to the Florida Everglades you are familiar with a view of swamp grass from horizon to horizon. Kotlik looks like it was set down next to a river in the middle of that vast expanse of swamp.  There is no solid ground here.  The only thing close to dry land is a wet spongy mat of vegetation that surrounds us, a bog.  Where the vegetation is absent there is black mud consisting of dark silt .  The mud has that sulfur smell indicative of an anoxic environment and slow decay.

                  The buildings here are all wood construction each set on a frame of wood or metal several feet off of the ground.   Some have aluminum siding and are the typical colors you see in most east coast seaside towns, bright pastels of yellow, blue and green.  Most are covered with bare plywood while some have a faded coat of aged and chipped paint.  Ramshackle wooden walkways lead from individual houses through the mud to a better-constructed 8 foot wide boardwalk that is the main street of Kotlik.  It runs the entire length of town from the airstrip in the northwest to the southeast end of town where the old airstrip is now just a gravel roadbed raised above water level. 

                  Along with the wooden walkways that connect all parts of town there are also the aluminum-covered, insulated water and sewer pipes that snake around the village like metalic capillaries.  All these conduits have to be placed above ground due to the swampy conditions here and the freezing and thawing throughout the year. 

                  My first walk through town reminded me of the movie "Beasts of the Southern Wild".  I see the way these people are living and it reminds me of the people in that movie.  Debris and trash are visible everywhere.  Barking, gnashing dogs pull against straining chains in muddy front yards.  Metal skeletons of old broken snow machines clutter the space between the houses and the main boardwalk.   Unused, derelict buildings cluster around the place where the old school was 12 years ago. 

                  Two stores provide most commodities people need.  The Native store is run by the native Corporation, and the AC store is part of a franchise that exists in nearly every small town in Alaska.  From opposite ends of the boardwalk they compete for our business.  Nearly anything you really need can be purchased at either location, from a 6 foot wide ,two shelf, mostly empty, produce section to a long aisle of frozen foods behind glass doors.   Meats runs $7 per pound and up.  A yellow onion, $2.89.  Can of Coke, $2.99.  If it's not in the stores then you go online. Amazon usually gets it here in 5 to 7 days. Mail arrives daily via airplane.

                       There is a United States Postal office centrally located equidistant from both ends of town.  It's on stilts of course and next to that is the village health clinic.  Here you can explain your ailment to a P.A. who will then email the symptom list to a doctor in one of the local hub towns such as Nome or Saint Mary.  Hopefully an email reply will include the prescription to give you some relief.  A real medical emergency will require a flight to Anchorage which is $850 round-trip. 

                  There is a teen-activity center on the southwest end of town.  Nobody goes there anymore because kids have broken all the game and pool tables, is what I have been told.  The predominant form of recreation among the younger crowd is hanging around the school building or one of the derelicts that used to be the old school.  The younger ones like to play on the jungle gym in front of the school or float pieces of styrofoam trash in the ever present puddles.  They also like to run on the maze-like sewer conduits that snake around town.  Older kids tend to huddle in school doorways and alcoves listening to iPods and texting.  Occasionally, while walking my dog I will pass by a full blown make-out session in progress in the back stairwell. 

                  Here, the equivalent of the family car is an  18' aluminum boat with a Yamaha 115 outboard motor.  You can get anywhere in town on foot or by four-wheeler, but to leave town a boat or plane is the only way.  In an hour, if you know the river shortcuts, which all of the kids here do, you can be in neighboring Emmonak village.  For most, a trip to a big town means heading out to the mouth of the river into Norton Sound, part of the Berring Sea, and east to Stebbins or Saint Michael.  That's a 5 hour trip one-way.  For those lucky few who can manage it or have a need the trip to Anchorage is a real treat.  For most people around here Stebbins is big enough and an occasional trip there is fine.

                  The family boat is essential to their subsistence livelihood.  On August weekends I saw whole families load up and head up river to spend a few days at their family fishing camp, a wood cabin built decades ago on the riverbank.  They get to their favorite berry picking spot by boat and even hunt for moose from their boat.  As long as the river is not frozen the boat is the primary mode of transport.  Once the freeze hits the snow machines come out and the river becomes a highway.  Overland routes are also used to get to nearby villages via marked snow machine trails. 

                  I haven't been here for the freeze-up yet but I am looking forward to it.  For those of us without boats it will be nice to be able to leave the confines of the boardwalk for a change.  The bog will be solid and Hobart and I can really hike out and explore our surroundings.  There is a cemetery across the river from the old airstrip I've been wanting to visit.