7 degrees. Across the frozen tundra and lakes via snow go in search of Inupiaq fishing for shee fish. Inupiaq. “Real people”. Eskimos. One lone caribou. Selawik lake looks small on maps, but from the frozen surface seems vast. Black specs on the horizon turn into a heard of caribou racing south over the frozen lake. Land and sky are vague. We spot the real people. They have a pile of about 30 shee fish and pike, landing several while I’m there. A smack from a club crushes a pike’s head and drops of bloody juices land on the monitor of my camera, freezing within moments and falling off. The nearest roads, cars and trucks are more than a hundred miles away. I’m so grateful to Paul and Brian for the gig.

Now it’s time to leave. This is the hard part. Asking people to speak openly in an interview requires opening up yourself. Now I’m attached to my new friends. Will I see them again?

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