Anchorage: Day 1

All four of us woke up at 4am this morning in order to load up the bags I finished packing last night and run to the Sitka airport, where Seren and I would depart on our 6am flight to Anchorage. Since this was both Seren's and my first flight off the island since we moved out here, I'd like to share my observations of this experience

 Inter-Alaskan air travel is a whole lot like taking a Greyhound bus anywhere else in the country. TSA rules aren't relaxed, but they are streamlined in such a way that showing up half an hour before your flight is a normal habit Sitkans have developed. The line moves quickly and amiably. The TSA staff are courteous and professional. Once you are ushered past the screening area and into the gate area, the process moves very quickly. Boarding starts almost immediately and the line shuffles at a rates of about 2 seconds per passenger. What would normally appear to be a long queue is cleared out and loaded onto the plane in less than 20 minutes. Flight staff are competent and friendly. There is no time for confusion to set in or disagreement to take place about space or seating. It's almost exactly as practiced as walking in a straight line back to the classroom after recess. Our flight did, however, take 20 additional minutes to take off, due to a technical error regarding a fuse, but the Captain announced the delay well in advance and did not keep us wondering what was going on, as we continued to receive updates every 5 or so minutes until it was resolved.

The first leg of our flight was 22 minutes or 65 miles, depending on how you like to look at it. Either way, it was only long enough to get into the air before our descent was announced. Our flight stopped briefly at Juneau to pick up and drop off more passengers, which is normal for Northbound flights from Sitka. We did not get off of the plane, but were back in the air less than half an hour after we touched down.

Oh, and the landing! Stephen has described Alaskan landings to me many times, but it's an entirely different matter to experience one first-hand. Because the runways are shorter (and frequently surrounded by water) Alaskan pilots have become deft in using the landing itself as a means of slowing the entire aircraft quickly and efficiently. There is none of that gentle gliding onto the runway you've all become so used to in the lower 48. It's down, and brake, and that's it. The entire plane feels it when the tires hit pavement. A good landing is a fast landing.

The second leg of the flight was significantly longer than the first. Anchorage is more than 600 miles Northwest of Juneau. The Captain explained that we were both flying higher (about 18,000 ft) and faster than normal in an attempt to make up for the delay in Sitka. When the primary means of transportation between cities is the flight you're on, the flight must run on time (or as near to it as is safely and reasonably possible). Near the middle of the flight, the Captain pointed out Mt. Logan in the Yukon, the second largest peak in North America (second to Denali, which is in Alaska). So, I took out the camera and took some snapshots of the beautiful scenery we were flying over.

Mt. Logan, Yukon

Clouds and sky

Seren did very well during the entire flight. She sat next to the window and did not even attempt to sleep. Most of her time was occupied looking out the window or reading a Calvin & Hobbes book she chose to take with her. She actually read about 80% of the 176-page book during this flight, which is quite a bit of dedication for a sleep-deprived 5-year-old on an airplane. She didn't complain. Not once. She was happy, excited, and inquisitive the entire way there.

We landed in Anchorage at about 9:10am and had claimed our baggage and were waiting for our shuttle to the hospital to check in by 9:40am. We had a 50-minute wait for the next shuttle to arrive, so she and I sat outside at the shuttle stop and amused ourselves with flowers and leaves, buildings, and people. A very nice couple vacationing from the United Kingdom struck up a conversation with Seren and she willingly took advantage of the opportunity to share with the foreigners all she knew about Alaska and its wildlife.

Seren hamming it up for the camera, outside Ted Stevens International Airport

Note the "badge" sticker given to her by the TSA agents in Sitka.

We were the only people on the shuttle to the hospital and the driver was listening and laughing with me about Seren's many questions on the way there. The driver was very nice and helped us with our luggage both into and out of the van, even refused to allow me to help him load. More notably, he did his job with a sort of genuine pleasure, the kind I hope I never learn to take for granted from Alaskans.

Inside the hospital, we were quickly directed to the housing department, which has an entire wing to itself. It was explained to us that we would not be staying on the hospital campus, but instead at a Quality Suites in downtown Anchorage. There was only one problem: It was just after 11am and check-in at the hotel wasn't until after 3pm. The good news was that I was given a pair of allowance cards that will be supplied with $25 per day for each of us to use for food at the hospital cafeteria AND the cafeteria has prepped hot food on par with a mall food court (Stephen would compare it to the cafeteria offerings at a major university). So Seren and I spent an hour or so getting food, eating, and calling family members to check in, then we found the playground (which amounts to a couple of slides in a gravel pit) and played for an hour or so, then we went to the gift shop where Seren graciously accepted candy from an on-site artist, then we went outside so she could run in the grass, then we went back to the cafeteria to eat some ice cream before FINALLY finding our place at the shuttle stop to head to the hotel.

Cafeteria lunch

Seren chasing a group of boys at the playground

A seal gut parka on display at the hospital

Mind you, neither of us had slept since 4am and Seren had still been very well-behaved throughout the whole day. She even drew positive remarks from passersby and people she interacted with along the way. I'm very proud of the attitude and stamina she showed on a day like this.

The shuttle to the hotel was full. We ended up in the furthest back row, next to a woman (maybe in her 70s) and her 6-year-old granddaughter. Seren immediately made friends and they laughed and played the whole ride away. The grandmother and I had conversation about our reasons for being at the hospital, the length of our stay, the beauty of Sitka, the weather, family, and on and on. She's a graduate of MEHS and was very pleased to hear that Stephen has a full-time music program going there. She's had 3 daughters graduate from there. She has at least 2 nieces who are going to go there. She expects several of her 15 grandchildren to go there. It's a kind of legacy that we have encountered over and over again with Mt. Edgecumbe students and I'm still surprised every time I hear the stories of lineage and history that pass through that institution's doors. They are staying at the same hotel we are and she was eager to tell me about all the best places to take Seren to walk, play, hang out, and eat. Her granddaughter tried to arrange an impromptu play date for this evening, but I had to decline. We were just too tired from the long day of travel. I could see that the grandmother was eager to see us again, to spend time with us and let the children play together, and I genuinely hope we run into them again before we leave.

It's 10:15pm now. Seren and I laid down for a nap at around 4:30pm and I have only been awake for a few hours. Seren is still sleeping soundly. She needs it. We have an 8:15am pre-op appointment to keep in the morning.

a primer on music and travel in Southeast Alaska

I got to take my first flights since we arrived in Alaska this weekend. This also marks the first time that I've left Baranof and Japonski Islands since our arrival in Sitka nearly three months ago. This ALSO marks the first time that I flew on Alaska Airlines, which experience I cannot recommend highly enough.

Some reflections and observations:

Music is very different in Alaska.
This isn't just a matter of the distances or the directors or even the students. The whole system is different. Southeast Alaska is a region that runs from Skagway to Metlakatla (an area similar in size to New England), and there were about 15 band and choir teachers present at our meeting. Two schools also have strings programs and there were one or two people potentially missing. The ethos of this group is something quite special. Over the day and a half that I was in Ketchikan meeting with everyone, there were numerous times where people openly imposed on each other and it was fine because of the trust and friendship that existed. If someone had access to a resource (such as a car), that resource was made available to anyone else in need. My impression is that this attitude is not limited to this one meeting, but persists throughout the school year as well.

We were meeting to conduct auditions for the Honor Choir and Honor Band for the festival in Wrangell next month. Where I've previously been involved in music (Ohio, Michigan, and Arizona), these auditions would involve bringing every student to a central location for live auditions in front of individual adjudicators. Based on one expert's opinion, the students would be ranked and selected. Here, the expense of moving all of those students and the lack of availability of sufficient adjudicators has resulted in an interesting system. Each director brings a stack of CDs, representing the best efforts of each student who auditions. In groups ranging from two at a time to five or more, the directors listen to the CDs, discuss their merits, and rank them. This results in an amazing amount of fairness and consistency in ratings, as evidenced when two different groups rated five or six duplicate Soprano I and Soprano II auditions in the exact same order (some students submitted multiple CDs for different voice parts or instruments). By using this system, we didn't have to provide chaperons, lodging, or transportation for students and were able to spend some very good time getting to know each other when most Outside directors at similar events just run around in circles, nodding at each other in passing.

Next month, we will be bringing over 100 students to Wrangell, where a relatively typical Honor Festival will occur, led by guest conductors and involving intense rehearsals capped off with a performance. Students will homestay with families in town, though, resulting in a very different experience than in most other places. Because of the unusual nature of travel here, the Juneau and Prince of Wales Island programs will be arriving at 1am on Friday morning by ferry (the festival starts Sunday and runs until Tuesday) and they won't be leaving until Wednesday. The best times and rates I can find for myself and the others traveling with me appear to be $1200 for four people (we're flying about 40 miles).

In the spring, we all get together for another big festival. Most places hold two different spring festivals, one focused on large ensembles and the other focused on solo and ensemble performances. Both are competitive, and solos and ensembles that get high ratings can travel to other competitions. Here, the competition is completely gone and both events are combined into one. From Wednesday through Saturday, there are morning adjudicated performances by soloists and small ensembles. These are frequently well-attended, because all of the large ensembles are also in town at the same time. The adjudicators award two scores: "S" for truly superior performances and "C" for comments, given to everything else. Following the morning performances, the adjudicators meet up and select the best three solos or ensembles to present command performances at the evening concert that night. In the afternoon, all students and directors have the ability to attend a series of clinics, and the evening culminates in a concert featuring several large ensembles and the command performances. This repeats every day except Saturday, where the morning is devoted to jazz ensemble performances from those programs that have them. Again, students will homestay with local families. Because of the non-competitive nature of this event, students and directors both look forward to it as an opportunity to meet up with old and new friends without the pressure and rivalry so frequently present elsewhere. The students are truly excited to see and hear each other's performances and appreciate them for the musicality presented, not for the ability to tally up mistakes in an attempt to one-up each other. The anecdote was shared yesterday of several members of a Juneau-Douglas High School choir who approached the Sitka High director and requested to sit in on his dress rehearsal because they wanted to hear his choir and would have to miss the performance for their own warmup. Students just don't do that anywhere else.

Flying is very different in Alaska.
People fly in Alaska like they take the bus or light rail in most other places. I flew three planes this weekend (SIT-KTN, KTN-JNU-SIT), all 737-400s with 50% occupancy or far less. On my second two flights, the boarding announcement went something like this: "Alaska Airlines welcomes to you flight XX, service to XX. At this time, we'd like to begin preboarding for our Gold Star customers, passengers in need of assistance, families with small children, and our first class customers and all rows." I'm used to "all rows" coming a few minutes after the other groups, but it was really all said in the same breath last night. The gate agent welcomes each person by name, passengers board quickly, the safety instructions are given quickly, and the flight proceeds uneventfully (usually). Upon landing (usually a hard landing in order to rapidly decelerate the light plane on a short runway), the plane taxis to the gate with no wait (after all, JNU is a large airport here because it has 5 gates, all right next to each other) and the flight attendants are nowhere to be seen once the seatbelt sign goes off, because they know that everyone will be up and out fast and don't want to be in the way. Two of the three terminals I waited in were empty of passengers save for me at some times, as people don't show up any earlier than they need to for their flights. If you show up late enough, the personnel at the ticket counter will identify you by name when you walk in the door, as experienced by one of my colleagues!

A word on turbulence: if you've never flown in Alaska, chances are you've never experienced real turbulence. On the flight from SIT to KTN, we took off in ~25mph winds and landed in ~50mph winds with driving rain (small water spouts were observed in Sitka Channel later the same day). There was serious discussion of what would happen if we couldn't touch down on Gravina Island*. The descent was so rough that I felt actual pain in my head and back later on Friday as a result. Not only was the plane bouncing in the air, but it was fishtailing. It's not easy to impress Alaskans with your prowess as a pilot (again, they use airplanes like others use buses), but there was spontaneous applause at touchdown.

*Bridge to "Nowhere" interlude: Having now flown into Ketchikan and taken the ferry to and from Gravina Island, I can vouch that a) the ferry isn't bad, but it is kinda crappy and b) Gravina Island may be a junky airport and gravel pile, but a bridge would save a lot of hassle in the long term and, with the number of tourists who come in here (it IS the "Tijuana of Southeast Alaska"), it's worth the expense, John McCain and Sarah Palin be damned.


Fun note: my flight from JNU to SIT was on the Salmon-Thirty-Salmon! The overhead compartments behind first class are all decorated with native Alaskan sea creatures, which I thought was a nice touch.