My earliest memory of Christmas is at my grandmother's house, with all ten of my aunts and uncles in a village that used to be called "Asa'carsamiut." (The English translation is "beginning of the mountains to the north and the south.")
Today the community is named Mountain Village. We gathered in the living room around the Christmas tree and wood stove with sunlight pouring in through the picture windows. The tree was "real," though I'm not sure where we got it, considering there aren't a lot of trees along the banks of the Yukon River.
At the time, I was 3 years old. I was the only child and the only grandchild and felt surrounded by endless love. I didn't understand the concept of Santa, and the idea of a guy wearing a red suit and white beard stopping at every house around the world was foreign to me. The Christmas gifts we received were simple and utilitarian, like new gloves, a pocket knife or a new pair of mukluks. We also went to church and sang Christmas songs, and the children put on a play. There's a photograph of me on stage scowling -- I was terribly shy, and was embarrassed that my mother forced me up there.
My grandmother's house is perched on the hill overlooking the town and the river -- perfect for sledding. Mountain Village has a population of 800 and is located on the Yukon River 90 miles inland from the Bering Sea in southwest Alaska. Surrounding my grandmother's house are the basics of almost each home in the village, including a "maqii" (steam house), stacks and stacks of wood, "mamterak" (smoke house), clothesline (which we used to dry clothes in the summer or winter), snowmachines, Honda 4-wheelers, and dog houses. In late December the sky is a bright blue, the air crisper than crisp and there is always time to go "manaqing" (ice fishing) on the river.
The village was founded by my great-grandfather Chekohak, who was given the last name of Landlord by missionaries from up the river in Holy Cross. They chose our name after seeing that village members would ask permission from my great-grandfather to set up their homes on the land. Chekohak also took in children that were orphaned by the tuberculosis epidemic.
Mountain Village is mainly Yupik, which translated into English means the "real people." Yupik peoples live in western and southwestern Alaska, and combine both a contemporary and a traditional subsistence lifestyle. They do this by nourishing and sustaining themselves by hunting, fishing and gathering, so a pocketknife for Christmas is quite useful. As are mukluks, soft boots traditionally made of sealskin that are worn in the Arctic. The term "mukluk" is often used for any soft boot designed for cold, and the word "mukluk" is of Yupik origin and is derived from "maklak," the word for the bearded seal.
I am a descendant of indigenous peoples who made decisions and changes within the cycle of life based on experience, knowledge and skills. For example, traditionally there is no word for "art" in Alaska Native languages. Instead, each of the objects had a function demonstrating the ingenuity of living off the animals and land. There was clothing woven of grass, raincoats made of seal intestines, tools made of ivory from the walrus tusks, and animal skins for their warmth. Eventually, these objects were refined to be more decorative and as a way to increase their value in trade with Europeans and Asians.
Subsistence means maintaining life, and my ancestors nourished and sustained themselves following animals, nature, and the seasons. Traditionally we are fluid, mobile and adaptable, spending the spring and summer at fish camp and then joining with others at village sites for the winter. According to the Institute of Social and Economic Research's The Status of Alaska Natives Report in 2004, the Yupik population in the United States then numbered over 23,000.
What I loved then about Christmas in Mountain Village was that gifts were not the main focus; it was about family gathering and spending time together. This Christmas, may you focus on not what is under the tree but rather the light, love and peace with your family and friends.
Trina Landlord has worked on indigenous issues locally, nationally and internationally. Her work on Alaska Native issues earned her an internship at the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights at the United Nations in Geneva, Switzerland. Trina recently completed a fellowship at Alaska House, a cultural embassy in New York City. She is of Yup'ik Eskimo ancestry from Mountain Village and maintained a blog, Eskimo to the World, documenting her adventures in the urban tundra of New York.