My Journey To The Ice

Before I moved to my new house, I lived in the same building where I worked.  The stairway I used to venture downstairs was not heated and was located  by one of the main doors to the building.  And every once in a while I would go through that hallway and yell “Holy Crap! It’s way @#$%^^ cold out there!”

My ex-roomate came home one day and said, “It’s really cold out there.”  I looked at her and said, “We are on Antarctica.”  My friend came into the main building the other day and said, “It’s really cold out there.”  I said, “We are on Antarctica.”

On a beautiful day when the winds are calm, one can actually say it’s kind of warm out.  I’m fairly certain it’s hovering around 0 degrees on these days.  I think my perspective has become warped.
But we’ve had some burley weather lately.  Hurricane force winds, snow blowing.  No visibility.  Ergo, no flights.

A few weeks ago many of us got the opportunity to move to our new condos on the other side of town (ok, it’s really about 1 minute from the old condo, but hey, it seems like the other side of town).  I now have a window with a lovely view of the mountains and the mountaintop golfball (some science thing).  My  roomate, Marci has set up our own personal recycling center with I believe 5 containers.  She may be thinking of expanding this.  I will keep you all posted.

Decorating and room supplies are acquired from friends leaving and skua.  Skua is the place where you find all the crap people leave behind.  I have scored clothes and lotion.  From friends, we have purple christmas lights, a water filter, map of Antarctica, a giant ball (don’t ask), a humidifier, small speaker sound system, more clothes and more lights.  Our room is quite cozy.  It is my home for the next 5 months.

It’s been an entire month since my last entry. I do not know where the time has gone.  Life got busy.  We all work 10 hour shifts six days a week.  A lot of us go to the gym.  There is a social gathering almost every night.  And if not a formal organized gathering, your friend will call up and say, hey, come on over.  Almost everything is a 3 minute walk, so why not?  You don’t even have to stop for gas.  You rarely need money.  There is little thought as to what to wear. 

Our last sunset is a few weeks away.  It is 11:00 at night and it looks to be 5 in the afternoon.  I don’t think it’s ever fully dark anymore. 

It was a beautiful day today.  Walking home from work was cold.  Sometimes I forget where I am.  It is still burley cold as we approach spring.

Almost everything is free here.  Go to the doctor,  no co-pay.  I had three physical therapy sessions.  No charge.  Video rental, free.  Parties, free.  General activities, free.  No monthly charge for the gym.  You want extra food for a party?  Free.

What do people spend money on?  Alcohol.  And lots of it.  What do I spend money on?  Lotion.  And lots of it. 

There are never any planes that fly overhead.

The hole in the ozone is over Antarctica because of the Polar Vortex.

Someone had asked me what I found  here that was unexpected.  My first answer was the intensive recycling program that I have now embraced and almost mastered.  The other was the average age of the people here.  I am shocked as to how many people are in their 60’s.  The average age is probably around 40.  There are folks in their 70’s.  Personally, I am quite pleased by this.

If you’re friend is not home, you need to walk around town to find him or her because we have no cell phones.  We do have phones in our rooms, but there is no answering machine. 

If you want information on just about anything, we call the firehouse.  I usually know there person at the other end, which is always bizarre.

If you need something, there is no Walmart down the road.  There is no drug store.  We do have a small store on station, but it’s supplies are minimal  I ordered lotion from drugstore.com.  I am waiting for a few packages.  The planes have not been flying.  Which means there is no mail.  And packages have a low priority.  I’ve heard stories of people getting their stuff at the end of the season.  I will cry. I want my pillow. And my lotion.

I came during a period called Winfly, which means winter fly in.  We were a community of 320.  You knew all the faces.  Everywhere you went you knew everyone.  You go to the doctor and you see your friends.  You eat dinner, you see your neighbor.  You see the same faces at the parties.  It’s also been communal living in fairly pure form.  Due to massive budget cuts mainly due to fuel costs, jobs have been cut as have research and activities.  So, in light of this, the community has had to partake in daily chores of washing dishes, and cleaning the dorms.  There’s been a rotating schedule and everyone has to pay their dues.  Even the scientists and the local medical staff.  It was an odd site to see Dr. Don in my pot room, wondering where to put the kitchen utensils.  I personally have become the master at cleaning the bathroom in record time.

But now the influx of the masses has begun.  The janitors and dining attendents are arriving and we shall be relieved of our potwashing and “housemousing” duties.  The flights have been delayed over a week due to bad weather.  There is only one flight at a time, so when you have flights backed up a week, well, it becomes an issue.  They are now trying to make two flights a day.  And we never know how much food to prepare because we don’t know if the flight will make it.  At this point, we are so confused that we just make a lot of food and hope someone shows up.

Another flight just came in.  6:00 a.m.  That’s yesterday for the rest of you.  There is another flight tonight.  We are getting close to capacity.  The kitchen is getting hectic.  Chaotic to be more accurate.

I love being down here. 

The recycling containers are everywhere.  You cannot escape them.  In the kitchen, by the dishroom after you eat, in the halls of the dorms, in the halls of all the buildings, outside… everywhere.  I was concerned about getting busted by the station recycling police.  They are not a problem.  It’s the kitchen recycling police I am having an issue with.  Katie scolded me multiple times in one day for improper recycling.  Who knew there were different types of plastics that go into separate recycling bins?  And what is the difference between non-recyclables and burnables?  Or is it food waste?  Can’t we just put everything into an anti-matter machine and make it all disappear?  Apparantly not and with my increased stress, I have been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Recycling Disorder.

I had a freaky face thing going on.  I was convinced my face was falling off.  It got really red and puffy.  And it hurt.  And I looked like I aged 10 years overnight.  So I headed to the Antarctic Botox Center to have my freaky face thing checked out.  Dr. Don examined my face, pinched the skin on my hand, and said, “Congratulations, you are dehydrated.”  And my door prize was a small bottle of super concentrated Eucerine lotion.  Use multiple times throughout the day and drink a lot more water. 

Freaky face thing is looking better all ready.  And so are the bathrooms. 

Basically, you are not allowed to do anything down here until you’ve had safety training in the that area (whatever area that may be).  I’m surprised we haven’t had toilet training because who knows, if you sit to pee incorrectly, you could fall in, injure yourself to the point where you need to be medivaced right back to New Zealand.  In that light, I got busted for going on an illegal hike (please see “Perspective”).  I’ve been sent to the Principal’s Office, reprimanded, and informed that I need to take my Outdoor Safety Class before venturing off base again.  And apparantly word has spread around the base of my illegal activity because it seems to be the station scuttlebut (is that a word?).  Do people really care?  Anyway, I think they are cutting me some slack because the authorities that be seemed impressed by my daring adventure out to Castle Rock on my fourth day here.  At 20 below zero. 

Let’s go back to Perspective.  It’s really cold today.  People are actually admitting that.  So, if 20 below is “warm”, I’m guessing it’s 40 below?  Maybe colder?  I don’t know.  There’s no thermometer here.  I don’t understand this. 

Ok, moving onto the Prison Shower. I live in a dorm that has lots of doors and lots of hallways.  If I go into a door other than the one I know, I will get lost roaming the halls for hours on end trying to locate my room.  So, I stick to what I know.  Now, there are few women’s bathrooms on my floor.  There is a nice and quiet one down the hall and through the woods with two private showers.  However, there is never hot water when I want to shower.  So, I found another communal bathroom, on the other side (through some random door and other woods) that does have hot water.  HOWEVER, the showers are communal and I find this mentally disturbing.  Girls don’t like this.  We need to shower privately.  But, no, I am stuck in the communal shower, otherwise known as the “Prison Shower.”  Fortunately for me, no one else is bathing at 3 in the afternoon.  So, I get the Prison Shower to myself.

I had a hiking date.  There was discussion regarding route and distance to travel.  I was more concerned about proper attire for our venture out on to the icy plaines.  I enquired about the temperature.  He said, and I quote, “It’s warm out today.”  I said, “Define warm.”  He replied, “Fifteen below zero.”  I informed him that his perspective on temperature was fairly warped.

I did well on my first Antarctic hike.  I did not freeze, though by the time we came home, there was a deep chill through my core and I needed a sauna to revive my internal organs.  Yes, we really do have saunas.

You have to wonder when someone really thinks that 15 below 0 is warm.  I don’t know, 10 above must be an absolute heat wave.  Oh, by the way, my hiking partner is another dumbass who left a perfectly good job to venture to the coldest place on earth for crap pay.  YES, THERE ARE MORE OF US!

Did I mention the live band (soundboard and everything) at the party at the carpenter’s shop the other night?  Did I mention it was like traveling through a hurricane getting up the hill to the shop?

We’re organizing a social with the New Zealand base.  They are down the road from us.
We’re allowed to go to their house on Thursday’s.  Maybe we’ll have a dance or something.  At the carpenter’s shop.

I had to sort my personal garbage today.  I think they added more recycling bins.  If in doubt, burnables.  I checked for the recycling police video cameras.  I think I was ok.

So we met at the airport at 5:00 a.m.  We gathered our Extreme Cold Weather gear, weighed our bags, again, again, and again.  Lot’s of colorful language in the locker room as we packed and repacked trying to manipulate our luggage to meet the maximum weight allowance.  Then we gathered in the orientation room for a film on our journey to Antarctica.  Why go at this point?  I’ve seen the movie.  Two really cute dogs roaming around sniffing everyone’s luggage.  I’m guessing they were the drug specialists because this really was not the bombing-terrorist type of group. 

Have I mentioned some folks have been doing this for 20 years?

So, we shlepped onto the cargo plane, compliments of the Air National Guard, and headed to our luxury steerage seats.  I’m kidding about the luxury.  I was particularly impressed by the use of duct tape holding the plane together.

6 hours later I got off the plane and stepped onto a thin layer of snow covering this icy continent.  Just forever of snow and ice.  And the Extreme Cold Weather gear really works.  It was a mere 25 below 0 and I was fairly comfy.  It was a beautiful day as the Sun sat on the horizen, for that’s as far as it gets for 8 hours a day.  Then it was off in the Terra Bus for our drive into Mac Town.  Playing Led Zeppelin and Creedence Clearwater Revival

They take their safety and recycling very seriously.  I am very stressed about the whole recycling.  I am afraid the recycling police will bust me for some dubious act of failing to place some fragment of something in the right container.  How many containers to we have?  Multitudes.  Mixed paper, paper towels and tissue, corrugated cardboard, plastic, aluminum, glass, hazmat, bio-hazard, grease, non-recyclables, food waste, waste-waste… all the new kids are seeking therapy because it is all so overwhelming.

The people down here are a colorful lot.  Very friendly, very helpful.  The folks who have spent the Antarctic winter down here are doing the thorazine shuffle.  They need to leave.  Soon. 

The dining room looks out to the Transantarctic Mountain range.  I think I am at a ski resort.  I like it.

It snows a lot.  We had a Condiiton 1 yesterday which meant it was so bad out we weren’t allowed out and play.  I stood by the door announcing to everyone it was a Catergory 2 hurricane.  It sure felt like it.  Very exciting.

I had my first day of work today.  It wasn’t so bad.  Kind of slow.  But it was fine and I think I will survive the next 6 months of feeding the starving Antarctic throngs.  My boss asked how my day was going.  I said it was much easier than all the recycling. 

Chaos at Miami, International.  Licked the winds of Gustav.  Thought we were going down over the mighty Pacific.  Are there sharks down there?  I was wondering.  I preferred not to go down in shark territory. Met new people.  Another flight.  More turbulance.  We all survived.

I’ve been told my next 6 months will basically be one big party.  Good thing I practiced my drinking.

Christchurch is a lovely city. No pigeons.  I saw a baby duck.  The weather is phenomenal.  The bars are great. 

Off to the Clothing Distribution Center soon for my Extreme Cold Weather gear.  I suppose 40 below zero can be construed as extreme.  Even extremo.  Super extremo.

I will be back.