"What brought you up to Alaska?"

More often than not, a young woman, when asked the question, will say, "I followed a guy up here." And more often than not, that guy is no longer the reason that person remains in Alaska.

"Did you drive up or did you fly?"

That is an important distinction.

An Alaska Native woman wandered up to our table and asked if the seat was taken.

"Not at all, have a seat."

She asked us if we were tourists, and we all said no, that we live here.

"Oh, no you don't," she said, laughing.

"Yeah, we're from here," said Carrie, who said she'd followed a guy up here.

Carrie has been here a year.

"Well, you've got some nerve to say you're from here," the woman said.

It's true. We're all part of a group of people that came here from somewhere else, and to the Natives, it shows.

"So, are you from around here?" Carrie asked the woman. And I just laughed and put my hand on her shoulder.

It's been more than two years for me, and the specific glint of the Alaska community has become a part of what I call home. People come here to realize something. Some want a cabin on a lake. Others want to strike gold or start a business. It seems everyone comes here to find their fortune. And a fortune is not necessarily a thing of wealth. My mom said that, in so many words.

Take my old friend Aaron Selbig, who says that no other place has resonated with him quite like Alaska. He's been here seven years. And Nova Stubbs, who can't walk a block without being hailed by somebody who knows her, who came here when she was 18, who was once charged by a grizzly. And Til Wallace, who back in the '50s was one of those people who had come here from somewhere else, who built a home and a business in Chugiak.

What kind of fortune will I find? I've been hip-deep in part of it for the past year. That's because I've been lucky enough to spend my days writing and learning about Alaska, specifically Chugiak-Eagle River, and all the people who live here. And I thank all who read, and let me take pictures of them, and let me learn about them.

Writing for The Star, and working with the people here has been a bright light this past year. I'll continue to contribute to the paper, but I've decided to go off and get a little more Alaska under my nails.

After that night at The Pioneer, I saw the Northern Lights. They were blazing bright green above downtown Anchorage. A truckload of Alaska people rolled slow through the alley.

"You see it, too?" they asked.

"Sure enough," I said. "It reminds me why I moved here in the first place."

Neil Zawicki is a freelance writer and artist who lives in Anchorage.