Cordova Adventures Part II

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Originally handwritten in my actual notebook log, August 30, 2011

There is no part I, at least not written.  Part I was my first trip to Cordova, where I learned that my tent leaks, and that people here are very busy in the summer, but that sometimes you get lucky and run into exactly who you are hoping to see, like the time I ran into Riki Ott while scrounging around for rags at a garage sale (to dry out my tent) and left with a long list of names of people to talk with.

All of these things are still true for Part II – my tent still leaks, but only when it rains, which of course is most of the time in Cordova.  I have stuff to re-waterproof it, but alas only acquired it the day before I left and need 24 hours of drying time.  People are still busy, although seem to be wrapping things up and more willing to talk to me.  And I’m running into people that are good to see.  First, I ordered pizza and found out I was talking with Lindsey from PWSSC who needed volunteers to take down their summer science camp.  I had meant to call her, but it had slipped to the end of my list.  But here she was, and soon I was being called “a gift from the universe!”  Yep – she needed volunteers. 

Then I was wondering if the Micah that I will soon be interviewing is the Micah I know from Homer.  There I am, finishing my veggie mex at Baja Taco (with fish, no sour cream or chipotle, extra salsa) and hear a somewhat incredulous voice, “Katie?”  “Yeah?” I turn slowly and confused until I realize, “Ashton!”  Sure enough, it is Ashton.  I went to school with Ashton for ten years, and Micah is indeed his brother.  After talking for a long time, he vows to put in a good word for my project with his fishing friends.  Before that, though, we laugh at my surprising decision to be a visual art and environmental studies major.

“Weren’t you voted most likely to be an ambassador or something” Ashton chuckled, recollecting high school superlatives.

So here I am, Ambassador Gavenus, camped out in a leaky tent, walking around Cordova interviewing people with borrowed equipment, trying to cobble together a project, harassing my friends and family for money, and hoping not to go into too much debt.

But you know what, I’m happy with the ways things have turned out.  In some weird way, I am an ambassador after all, or at least I am the gatherer of stories that may serve as a sort of ambassador – between Alaska and the Gulf of Mexico, between those who have lived through an oil spill and those still embroiled in it.  I'm getting to do something really interesting that allows me to meet some amazing people in some wonderfully unique places.

It may not be what the Homer High School yearbook committee was envisioning for me, but I'm pretty glad it worked out this way.