OPINION: Splitting table holds memories, cultural knowledge

Published on April 8th, 2010

By LYDIA OLYMPIC

Our fish splitting table embodies what it means to be an Alaska Native family, rich in tradition and steeped in culture.

During the long, dark winters my thoughts wander back to summer. Some of my most cherished memories stem from what happens around my family's fish splitting table on the shores of Iliamna Lake in the remote village of Igiugig. Mom made the table top out of old plywood and used scrap wood for the legs; it's nothing fancy, but so important. These tables are found at every fish camp around Bristol Bay. Our fish splitting table knows our intense sorrows from the tears we have shed on it. Our table knows of our immense joys and has shook with our laughter. It knows of our dreams, and most of all it has listened to our voices as our culture is passed down from generation to generation. Our table is multi-generational: grandmas, mothers, daughters, sisters, cousins, nieces and grandkids use it every summer.

We spend hours at the table splitting our salmon. Both young and old hold the ulu as we cut hundreds of wild salmon that feed us during the long, cold winter months. Everyone has a job and everyone contributes, even the tiniest ones. Aiden, my 4-year-old great-nephew, is charged with washing our fish and taking care of his younger brother, younger cousin and, this summer, a younger sister.

If you listen quietly you can hear our table moan the loss of a loved one who no longer has her turn at the splitting table. In Yupik, "Alla" means older sister. Tragically, we lost my Alla, Anecia, last March. The first day at the table, as we worked on our sockeye salmon, we were all so quiet because one of our own was missing. We thought of our sister and how she should be here with us and not taken away so soon in life. Finally, I could not hold back the tears anymore and we all started crying for her. As the day went on we remembered stories about Anecia and her many tricks that kept us laughing as we worked on the fish.

My Alla did some hilarious things at fish camp that would have us in stitches for days. Once she wanted to show us a trick. She found a dime-sized piece of plastic and used it to prop her eye open like a tooth pick. She looked so silly we were rolling until the piece popped into her eye like a contact! Mom was pretty upset, but very glad when it finally popped back out of her eye. To tease her, we would tell her to show us more tricks!

Our table helps us heal from intense hurts as a family. At our table I realized that she truly was gone and my healing process finally began. Before summer came I was in denial and could not mention her name. Thanks to our table, our long hours together around it cleaning fish, my family and I were able to mourn Alla's passing and feel alive again.

This simple, weather-worn splitting table has heard many stories from Alaska Native people. As we talk and listen we are learning our traditional knowledge. Our culture is an oral one, passed down through generations and deeply connected to the natural and spiritual worlds. This story is just one tiny sliver of our rich and vibrant way of life centered around a splitting table, clean waters and wild salmon each summer.

There are many more stories about our traditional heritage that need to be heard, written and shared, especially because our way of life is being threatened by the proposed Pebble Mine and its industrial mining district. The large-scale mining could directly threaten the salmon that Alaska Native people have depended upon for thousands of years to sustain our culture. Anglo American, the company behind the project, says that the mine won't harm the fish. But, we know better. Salmon are very sensitive to change, and we do not want to be the experiment that sees if wild salmon and a massive open pit mine can co-exist. The risk is too high. The pristine waters and undeveloped lands of my home are one of the last strongholds for wild salmon, and we are fighting to protect this. Please join our efforts to stop the Pebble project and to protect the salmon that we hold sacred. Quyana.

Lydia Olympic grew up in the village of Igiugig. She is a graduate of the George Washington Native American Political Leadership program, and is the former president of the Igiugig Tribal Council. She is also a former member of the Bristol Bay Native Association executive board, Bristol Bay Area Health Corp. executive board, and vice chair of the EPA's National Tribal Caucus.