Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Yes, most of this is in Yupik, and so are many of the conversations going on around
you, tough luck on an inveterate eavesdropper like myself. It simply doesn't matter,
Alaska Native dance laughs at the boundaries of language and culture. Alaska Native dan-
cing is an invitation to joy. You don't need to speak Yupik or Inupiaq (or Tlingit or Aleut)
to understand that.
This year's festival also included an arts and crafts fair (I saw two gorgeous ivory
storyknives, tiny mukluk and mitten earrings made from real fur, dance fans, drums, and,
yum, fry bread), a Fur Fashion Show celebrating 85-year-old master skin sewer Lucy
Beaver's work (Lucy's family were the models, including her great-granddaughter), and a
Native Foods dinner, your chance to try akutaq (elders eat first, dancers next, then us and
don't even think about jumping the line). I never did get a straight answer on how many
people total attended, but at 4:30 p.m. Saturday afternoon the admissions' counter read
1,804, which in the Alaska Bush is quite a crowd. That evening it was standing room only
in the gym. “Do not stop dancing,” Joe Chief, Jr. told me, “that's the most important
thing.”
While the Tuluksak Dancers were thundering out their last song, I watched a little boy
jump two-footed from bleacher step to bleacher step, exactly and precisely to the beat of
their drums.
Not a chance, Joe.
