Parting Words
It is rare for me to procrastinate; usually I’m one of those annoyingly prompt people. It has taken me a while to get around to this entry not because I didn’t want to do it, but because I knew it would be the last one. My procrastination didn’t stop the program from ending though, so now, without further delay, I will get down to the business of sharing how it ended.
The first of our last two weeks was the much awaited survival trip. With ceremonial singing and beating drums, our instructors sent us off into the wilderness together, yet alone in the world. It’s strange how fast priorities can change the pattern of our lives. Within minutes we transformed from modern humans into our animal selves. All that mattered was finding water, making shelter and fire, finding food. Basic needs are easy to discuss in theory, but unless you don’t have them at hand, it’s hard to truly understand their importance in every instant. The tone of the week was set by necessity, and lived in community. Thirsty? Find clean water. Cold? Sit by the fire, add more insulation to the shelter, or snuggle with a friend. Hungry? Forage for green shoots of salmonberry, nettle, miner’s lettuce. Roast oyster mushrooms or snails (or something even more adventurous) and share every morsel in village circles. Weak, dizzy, sick, or injured? Lay by the fire and let the village care for you until you feel better. Knowing our sparse animal existence had an expiration date both helped us to make it through the hard times and distracted us from really living there in the moment. Food cravings elicited hours of almost philosophical discussions about what we wanted and how we wanted it. Epic eating plans were made as we salivated and turned up our noses at the greenery available to us, holding our growling stomachs. Thus it was clear that we weren’t really the same as those three black- tailed deer sharing their bounty with us, yet we got a taste of their lives like most people never will. I think in a way they understood that. On our final morning those three deer walked up to our circle and looked back at us, seeming to really see us. A little later, our instructors met us and sang us back into a different world. We knew that they too were looking back at us, seeing us, understanding something few others will.
Our final week was a blur of debriefing, reflections, game-playing, singing, more reflections, and ceremony. If we had any doubts before, it was made clear that our experience this year was so much more than learning natural history or survival skills. We have come through a rite of passage, which, though different for all of us, was indescribably powerful and important in our lives. We lived this experience in a close-knit community within the larger Wilderness Awareness School Community. Our graduation ceremony reflected this- each program coming together to share a little of their different experiences, yet each feeling part of a big family. Some will stay here in this community, others will head out into the world to find new communities, new families. Our instructor, Chris Laliberte, summed it up well when he said, “Now we let these students loose into the world with the difficult task of explaining to others just exactly what they did all year.” Though it wasn’t easy, that was my hope for this blog. But to truly understand what happened to us, you’ll just have to do it yourself.