Where do I start so this makes sense. I suppose with that I work at a zinc and lead mine above

the arctic circle. My company likes to only mention the zinc part but they still process and sell

the lead too. It’s still strange every time flying to a place so remote and empty and landing next

to that scar in the mountain where 10% of the world's zinc comes from. How did I get here? An

online job posting, a 30 minute zoom interview and then an email with tickets from San Luis

Obispo to Alaska in my inbox.

I learned a lot that first summer at the mine. That people live in the arctic. That the local people

still predominantly hunt and gather for their food. I learned that people in the arctic never lived

in igloos. That colonization still has a huge lasting effect on indigenous people. And a lot about

rocks, I’m a geologist.

Fast forward to my second summer. I’m heading to a local village riding shotgun in a helicopter.

We have to pick up supplies we loaned to a community to help them with the coastal erosion

issues they’re battling with the rising seas. Was it done as a PR stunt or to actually help? As we

fly along the coast of the arctic ocean, getting closer to the village, we start seeing hunting cabins

and abandoned snowmobiles. I pull out my camera feeling like I’m in a natgeo documentary and

snap a few pictures as we start to descend to land in the village. I step out onto the edge of the

continent, one of the most remote towns in the United States, closer in distance to Russia than a

paved highway. We gather the gear we were sent to pick up and after I walk up the dirt path that

is main street to the native store. As I walk in I am greeted with a “Welcome Welcome”. I bought

a cold can of Cherry Pepsi for $1.50.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY DYLAN HAYNES CARSTENS