Old but interesting e-mail

The following is my first e-mail back to Texas. I shudder in embarrassment for the ignorant views I had. Although, to my credit, I was just 24 and the only people I had met at this point were two of the creepiest yahoos that side of the mountains (and that's really saying something).

October 8, 1999

Dear Everyone:

I landed in Anchorage on Friday night and took a cargo plane into X (now called Middle-of-Nowhere Alaska -- MONA) on Monday morning. First snow was yesterday. The weird thing is, it doesn't feel cold. I have been wearing long-sleeved t-shirts and a jacket. The cold will be setting in soon, though.

I saw Mt. McKinley, the tallest mountain on the continent and today, I walked the tundra. Next week, I will be taking a Cessna to a village on the ocean for a subsistence conference. Yesterday, I signed up to be a volunteer firefighter. I will be moving into my new home on the 10th.

I am living with XX (later know as Crap-Eating Crazy Woman) and XY (later known as Creepy Guy). They are both 24. XY is a firefighter and XX works with native children. The natives here give away their kids a lot (how ignorant and racist did that sound? Sorry, I have since repented). They are considered community property -- more about that later.

The sunsets here are beautiful and you can hear the sled dogs howl at night. Everyone in town knew who I was within 4 hours of my plane landing. They call me "the redhead." I guess compared to the jet black hair of the natives, this makes sense (again, shut up, stupid redneck. Geez, I can't believe I said these things).

Everyone is very friendly but blunt. The natives are afraid of cats - they are supposed to be a bad omen. Reindeer is sold in cellophane packages in the grocery stores.

I have to go now but I will write more soon.

Oh, yeah -- IMPORTANT: The post office will not deliver to a physical address so please send stuff to my PO Box:

Naive Writer
Crappy Middle-of-Nowhere Paper
PO Box 001 MONA, Alaska 00001

with love,

She-Who-In-For-the-Shock-of-Her-Life