Not many people get the chance to travel to the wintry state of Alaska. However, this past spring break my cousin and I visited the teensy town of Hoonah, Alaska, where my aunt and uncle have been living for the past 11 years. From all of our aunt and uncle’s stories, we expected a busy town full of people and excitement.

The reality, however, was very different from our expectations. Imagine the quaint town of Flower Mound, with its modest amount of grocery stores and restaurants. Now imagine that 20 times smaller. The town had one general store for groceries and appliances, two Starbucks-esque coffee shops, one motel, and a single restaurant only open during the summer. If you’re looking for figures, Flower Mound has a population of 67,019, while Hoonah’s is only 747. If that doesn’t blow your mind, I don’t know what will.

Hoonah has exactly one school.I acquainted myself with the high schoolers there by sharing just how different our school districts are. For example, Hoonah has a mere 16 graduating students while Flower Mound has close to 800. I showed them pictures of our hallway stampedes and their mouths fell to the floor. When we visited their school, the hallways seemed deserted in comparison, and their cafeteria was about the size of a single FMHS science lab.

However, with the low population came a certain relaxation. It felt bizarrely serene; quiet, peaceful, almost dream-like. Everyone knew each other, so they would always wave to us and smile. The townspeople knew us as “Pete and Rory’s nieces,” so that’s what they called us. The highway, or at least that’s what they called it, was a stretch of three miles lined  by the crystal-clear ocean on one side and rows of pastel-colored houses on the other. Behind the houses, rows and rows of trees covered the mountainside.

The culture was unique and different; I even got to experience some of the traditions in person. We went to classes for the native language of “Tlingit” and met the elders of the town. They told us stories from their childhood, and the town’s humble beginnings.

My aunt’s house, along with most other houses, was like two classrooms stacked on top of each other. It was filled with little trinkets and heated by a large fireplace. Snow-capped mountains were visible just across the peaceful harbor. The night sky was dotted with zillions of stars, quite a change from the bustle of the suburbs. We woke to a breath-taking view, and fell asleep to a breath-taking view. It’s the kind of feeling you can only experience in a tranquil town like Hoonah, Alaska, because you certainly can’t find an adventure like it in Flower Mound.