Along a thousand-mile chain of treeless and windswept islands, Unalaska is perched at the end of the world, or, as some prefer to say, the beginning. In 1964, Ray Hudson, 22, landed in Unalaska village with a brand-new college degree, eager to teach. The Aleuts had seen many outsiders who had come but seldom stayed more than a year. Yet Hudson was no short-timer. Captivated by Unalaska and the history and traditions of its enduring people, he stayed. As the years passedone, then five, ten, then twentyhe was embraced by his Aleut neighbors, sharing their celebrations and tragedies, teaching their children, exploring their language, and, much to their surprise, learning their delicate art of grass basketry. Ray Hudsons intimate memoir weaves together landscape and language, storytelling and silence, ancient mythology and day-to-day village life. Ultimately he pays homage to the people he came to teach, and who, in the end, were his teachers.
Ray Hudson's memories of Unalaska and its people form a beautiful portrait of a time and place. As a former resident of Unalaska, I highly recommend the book. Although the community can no longer be called a village, the Aleut roots described in Hudson's tale are still there. And his deeply evocative descriptions of the land--one of the most remote and beautiful in the world, I'm convinced--are wonderful. The descriptions of everything from fog to wildflowers to stormy nights are moving and accurate. A definite must to anyone traveling to the Aleutian Islands--and a terrific travelogue for the armchair traveler..
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