The final stop while we were in Aklavik that day was a visit with Annie B. and Danny A. Gordon. A cabin that Andrea and the kids from Moose Kerr School used during the Fish Hole Monitoring Project was in need of some renovations. Danny A. was going to bring building supplies out by snow machine while the rivers were still frozen and do the work, and Andrea just needed to let him know what the situation was. So, as a bonus, we were invited in for dinner.

Annie and Danny are elders in their seventies, though it’s hard to say for sure as they are both so spry. Annie, a Gwich’in, and Danny, an Inuvialuit, are one example of cross-cultural marriages that likely served to strengthen the community of Aklavik back in the day when there was still a visible divide between the two groups. Both Annie and Danny are active members in the community, Annie serves on a number of committees and Danny is one of the more respected hunters in town.

If you are in Aklavik looking for Annie and Danny an important thing you need to know about them is that they’re one of several elder couples of Annie-and-Danny-Gordons. So, naturally if you are going to talk about Annie and Danny, you need to know WHICH Annie and Danny they are. Confused? Well, it’s all about the initials. From what Andrea said, it seems that they have been given middle initials to avoid such confusion. So Annie B. and Danny A. and I guess Danny C. and Annie—or something like that. Clear?

When we walked into the house, Andrea sat down with Danny to discuss the renovations, while Annie was just finishing preparing a caribou stir-fry. The air was filled with a savory aroma of fresh caribou, and Dan bent down close to the pan to inhale the delicious smell. To both of our surprise, Annie told him off for doing so. Dan apologized and proceeded to do the only thing he could to make amends: eat a big portion.

Dan’s actions reminded Annie of a time when some unnamed white man, who she invited into her kitchen, turned his nose up at the food which she offered. And yet, the next time he came (uninvited) and helped himself to not one but several bowls of soup. “I have no use for a man like that,” said Annie.

Beyond Annie’s personal story, lies a small lesson on the evolution of cultural norms in northern aboriginal homes. During the early part of the last century when white visitors were even rarer then they are today, it was normal for people to offer food, whatever they had, even if they had very little. However, when many such visitors saw that the food was not the “standard” they were used to, they reacted in the fashion typical a spoiled child, “EWWW!” Likely, quite an embarrassment to such gracious hosts. So it went, that people stopped offering food, even to each other, and it became understood that if you were invited into someone’s home, then you are just expected to take what you want.

Such a beautiful, open, and generous custom was a pretty foreign idea to guys like us who are used to waiting until being offered, but we learned our lesson.

As we ate our food, Danny talked about the hunting this past winter, and how the rats (muskrats) were scarce. Danny said that this might have been caused by a quick freeze where the ice got thick quickly, before the muskrats could maintain their “push-ups” (air holes in the ice). Apparently, this is part of a natural 10 year cycle. Last year they were scarce, this year worse, and maybe one more bad year, and then their numbers will bounce back. The same with is true with the rabbit population. However, I heard on the radio today (May 5^th) people talking about how, since all the natural resource exploration the numbers of such animals appear in definite decline. Perhaps, Aklavik hunters have the same thing to look forward to should full development go ahead on the proposed Mackenzie oil and gas project.

As you see, Danny and Annie sat side by side. And even if one was talking the other would not hesitate to add an anecdote or just start talking about something different. So, sometimes it was hard to know who to listen to.

As it turns out, Danny is also one of the people in Aklavik, along with Donald Aviugana, who know how to make traditional drums. Danny brought out one of his drums and explained how it was made, you can see it below. This skin of the drum he’s holding here is made of parachute cloth, not the traditional caribou hide, but Danny said its sound is good and isn’t affected by moisture or cold. Caribou hide will swell with moisture, and if cold, needs to be warmed up otherwise the sound won’t be of the same quality.

The whole time while we talked there was a constant ebb and flow of people, mostly youngsters, through the house. So many I lost count. I wondered if they were all grandchildren, or what? Andrea said that sometimes, especially if alcohol is a problem in other homes, children in the community will just go to homes that they know are safe. No doubt, this house is a place of safety and love.

Before we left, Danny brought us out to his workshop, where he kept his what remained of his winter catch. But he also had something else: a young owl (I think a great horned owl) that he had found dead on the trail while checking his trap lines. I guess it’s not common to find birds of prey just dropping dead, so he brought it home with him. He told Andrea about it, and she volunteered to have it brought to a lab so it could be tested for disease or what have you. This is one way in which hunters help to keep tabs on the land and wildlife.

This little guy that you see below is was one of two super cute pups sitting outside Danny’s workshop. He was very friendly, and Dan wanted him. Annie said he could have the other, but that this guy was her granddaughter’s. Dan was sad, but not for long.

On the way home and over the next couple days we both buzzed about what a great opportunity it had been for us to be introduced to this community and all these great people. And we resolved to return, if conditions on the ice roads permitted.