This past week I went through a training session for PRIME For Life. PRIME For Life is an alcohol and Drug education class that seeks to help people find out where they are at in their life in terms of their use. PRIME For Life is NOT a class that is out there to say, “Don’t drink, drinking is bad for you and will always turn you into an alcoholic.” What is REALLY does though is show it’s students statistic and valid research that has been developed and recorded over long periods of time that relate to the party life, alcohol and drug use, advertising and addiction. It’s information was all tremendously fascinating and truly enabled me to see things that I didn’t even think about in the past. PRIME For Life Is presented to people who have gotten into some sort of trouble in the past, but it also to colleges and high schools. After an intense three day training session, I have been officially certified to teach PRIME For Life. The program really captured me because a lot of the same statistics could be linked to spirituality and Christian Practice, but I won’t get into that just now because it’s going to take a great deal of time to do research and study on that subject.
I realize I haven’t updated quite as frequently I said I would. One, I’ve been super busy, two, things have been repetitive for a short while. These things are now changing. Lately, I’ve been getting a lot of certifications: Food Worker, CPR/FIRST AID, PRIME For Life, and pretty soon I just might pick up a Kitchen Manager Certification also. Alongside of this you may have realized that I haven’t posted any web blogs in awhile. Internet is very expensive here in Nome, and uploading web blogs has become very expensive. I’ve been thinking about doing one web blog maybe every other month or so. That way you all can sort of SEE how I’m doing.
Other then all this, I want to take a moment to talk about my experience here in Anchorage. I have been living in Nome since September, so it was just spot on five months before I left for this trip. Five months of walking everywhere (with counting the number of times I actually drove on two hands), no traffic lights, no traffic period, no huge shopping centers, tall office buildings, no fast food at every corner, no Starbucks, the list goes on. And staying in a hotel was a bit strange. I mean, I did take one other trip since I was in Nome, but that was to one of the Neighboring Villages, Teller, and that was a place smaller then Nome. Driving was crazy, encountering traffic lights, heavy traffic and roads where the MPH exceeds 40 were enough to get my nerves to bubble like they did whenever I stepped into a car in Northern Virginia. It really hit me how uncomfortable it was going through traffic and how much more relaxed my mind and soul had become while living in Nome.
After I had gone to the Costco in Anchorage, once I left the shopping center and got back into the Yaris I rented, I realized how taken back I was by walking into a huge store like that. It was as if my mind had forgotten what it was like to be in a huge department store, only after five months! I spent the first 26 years of my life in Northern Virginia, and it only took five months for my mind to almost forget what the feeling was like being in a place so huge where people are running around like crazy people trying to find what they need. From the hotel looking out the window and seeing tall buildings was strange for me for the first time in my life. If this is what it felt like for me, I can’t fathom what it must be like to grow up in a remote Alaskan Village for the majority of a person’s life and make that sudden change to a bigger city or town then the person might be used to. But this brought me close.
I’m not sure if I touched base on the issue of seclusion that people feel in Alaskan Villages and Cities. It’s different here in Anchorage and further south. It’s different because I noticed that for the first time in five months, I could (if I had brought my passport) have gotten on the road and drove to the Lower 48! The people living in these villages have to deal with the known fact that there is no way out except by plane. The shock of being in a heavily populated area must feel like either freedom from a cage, or frightening because it’s too much, I’m not sure, because I haven’t walked in their shoes for as long as they have.
It’s an interesting emotion to put into words, but Culture Shock are the only words I can think of. Not sure what this may provide for you, but I ask that you pray for these people who live out in these remote regions of the Earth. These people are self-reliant, independent survivors, and some of the toughest people I’ve ever met.
+PeAcE+
