11:30 a.m.
You arrive in Barrow on April Fools Day to a 30-below wind chill; no joke. You move, stiffly, through the logistics of arrival: rental car, hotel check in, stow bags.
Noon
You go looking for a polar bear on a tip from the Top of the World Hotel staff. You cruise up and down Stevenson Street at 20 mph, along the Arctic Ocean, scanning the one-dimensional, white expanse for a blob of off-white fur. You're scared silly to get out of the car to actually have a decent look, for fear one might pop out from behind the massive drifts and ridges that made up the vast snowscape.You do, however, work up the courage to take your picture underneath the whale bone arch, or next to a whale carcass.
1 p.m.
After an hour or so, with no luck on your polar bear hunt, you head back into town for a late lunch. You cruise around looking for Sam & Lee's—a Korean-owned, Chinese restaurant with the best spicy chicken noodle soup in town, according to one of the locals.
1:30 p.m.
The soup is indeed spicy, and has sort of a Japanese twist, with udon noodles and cabbage. During your stay, you overhear the owner take a phone order for kimchi and muktuk. She explains that she can't legally sell muktuk, but the customer is welcome to provide their own, and pay extra for the kimchi and preparation. You learn that she made this recipe for a wedding reception once, and it's been a popular dish ever since.
2:30 p.m.
Again, feeling the urge to explore, you request a to-go cup, knowing you'll risk the soup sloshing and saturating the rental car, possibly adding fees to the $236 day rate. But you can hardly leave leftovers at $19 a bowl, so you take your to-go bag and grab a fortune cookie on your way out. The fortune reads, "Creative energy is up — capitalize on it."
3 p.m.
You're thwarted at your next stop, the World Gift souvenir shop. A young girl, Ambrosia, informs you that it only opens during dividend time. Instead, you visit the Inupiat Heritage Center and learn about life on the tundra and whaling culture. Afterward, you drive by an igloo in someone's front yard on your way to the Fur Shop.
5:30 p.m.
The Fur Shop, it turns out, is that and so much more: fabric, yarn, thread, candy, Barbies, books, body spray, Home of the Whalers hoodies. Easter lilies and cellophane-wrapped baskets line the crowded aisles. Stuffed animals hang from the low ceiling. The Fur Shop also doubles as a flower shop. Finally, on the back wall, you discover boxes of furs, neatly labeled: "tails," "wolf legs," "faces."
6:30 p.m.
You go back to your neat and modern hotel room to warm up and regroup. You peruse the gift shop in the lobby for Top of the World t-shirts, books and local art. You finish off your leftovers.
7:30 p.m.
You decide against dropping by the bingo hall. With no other nightlife scene in which to be out, about and anonymous, you go to the grocery store. You roam the aisles; you people-watch; you pay twice what you would at home for a bar of dark chocolate.
9 p.m.
The cold compels you back to your room, where you realize, as you unwind, that this 24-hour novelty tour is a 24/7 reality for Barrow residents. The isolation, the climate, the cost of living—these are all a part of daily life at the top of the world.
7 a.m.
The next morning, you wake to the buzzing of snow machines and a pink pastel ring around the horizon—an Arctic circle. A school bus makes its way down the street below, as if you were in no place unusual; except you are. You put on your 30-below snow attire, anticipating the little time you have left.
7:30 a.m.
You sit down to an all-American menu at the Niggivikput ("our place to eat") restaurant, the "Northernmost Fine Dining in Alaska."
8:30 a.m.
You go on a dumpster tour—a culturally-revealing excursion, as it is a common practice throughout the villages to paint the dumpsters with pictures and phrases inspiring to that community. Several dumpsters list Inupiat values: humor, cooperation, respect, caring, peace, family, pride, dreams. Others admonish: "Keep Barrow clean," "Smoking stinks," "Stay in school," "Give thanks." Some are proud: "Fresh air or be square," "Got muktuk?" and "We (heart) our whalers." Most fittingly, in a place that receives alternating extremes of 24-hour light and dark, you discover the most inspiring of all: "Don't let today's darkness overpower sunshine."
9:30 a.m.
You get the rented Ford Escape stuck in a snow drift outside someone's front door when you turn down what was not actually a road. The young couple, baby in tow, walks out of the house to see what is the matter. Feeling like a creeper and a fool, you overcompensate with apology. The level-headed couple is unfazed, and happily pushes on the hood while you put it in reverse.
10 a.m.
After that, you decide to wrap it up and return the rental. At the auto shop, you meet a Chinese man who develops engines for snowblowers. He has been on a testing mission. The employee taking our keys tells him there are over 100 words for snow in Inupiat, and that this gentleman has his work cut out for him, trying to make the perfect machine to handle it all.
10:30 a.m.
Back at the terminal, you go through the motions. You smile to yourself when the gate attendant announces community elders get priority boarding. You may or may not grumble to yourself when you realize there is no exception in Barrow to taking off hefty snow boots at security.
11 a.m.
Once on board, you notice the couple that helped you out of the snowdrift takes the row in front of you. There is a moment of recognition, of camaraderie.And there it is: the highlight of your trip. Among a mish-mash of sensory experiences—watermelon air freshener in the rental car, early 90s hits on Barrow's only radio station, the blinding reflection of sun on snow—that renowned Inupiat generosity and good humor has made the most significant impression.
This story appeared in the May 2015 issue of 61º North Magazine. Contact 61º editor Jamie Gonzales at jgonzales@alaskadispatch.com.