Ice, White & Blue

Redhead Amok in Antarctica

In Which The Author Rescinds Her Previous Post

I lied.

 

posted by: coldwish at 08:05 | link | comments (6) |
fuels 2007-08

I Wanna Post I Really Do

Antarctica is still beautiful to me. It takes my breath away with more than just the cold bitter wind that rattles my bones and solidifies my fingers in a heartbeat. It brings forth tears under my goggles when I drive away from station far enough that Mt Erebus peaks at me, winking smokily in the low sun, blue and shrouded by smooth lenticular clouds curving down her upper slopes, evidence of the harsh winds that reach all the way down to slap my cheeks.

I wander away from station for my job, and I truly appreciate the silence, the solitude, the opportunity that my job gives me to be outside. I even appreciate stinking of diesel fuel almost every day, because that is the trade off for my freedom. More so than most other jobs on station I get out and about to see the continent that stole my heart so many seasons ago when I first arrived, peering through tears and a heartbeat so loud I drowned out the engines of the Herc I flew in on, in the cockpit as we landed in Antarctica for my first time ever.

I do still feel it.

But when I walk into the Galley for meal times and the babble is cranked too high, the tables are all full and the eyes all turn toward me, my stomach rises to my throat and I feel sick. I lose my appetite and I turn tail and flee into the back room at an empty table, and I eat alone, nearly hyperventilating. It is a shock to my system to be back among all these people without privacy.

It takes time to adjust, to dampen my social paranoia, and ease back into the friendly faces and the exposed tables. There are so many great people here who fill my heart and make me smile. But the mass of them, the noise of them, the everpresence of them, friends among them, exhaust me.

I didn't have my defenses up when I landed in McMurdo. There are skid marks on my soul from my first week here. I had to throw my defensive shields up so fast and hard in utter shock that I couldn't allow Antarctica itself to sneak back in to my heart and dreams and make me feel as vulnerable as my love of it makes me feel.

I've reached my balance right now.

And y'know? It was the people who helped me get there, both here and those who emailed and commented in their support and concern.

Thank you, all.

Now I turn to face Antarctica again, shields lowered enough to let the awe in.

posted by: coldwish at 17:41 | link | comments (3) |
fuels 2007-08

Easing Into It

It has been a hard landing, but things are getting much better. Sorry I've been so incommunicado. I can't really say what's been so hard at this point. I could allude, but this is a small community, so I won't. Needless to say, the place retains its beauty and the people retain their...

potential for evil?

Either way, it was a rough landing.

posted by: coldwish at 14:33 | link | comments (3) |
fuels 2007-08

Working Through It

Getting better.

I'll write more when I figure it out, if it's something I can share.

posted by: coldwish at 13:38 | link | comments (5) |
fuels 2007-08

Deadened Senses

I can see the beauty, but I'm not feeling it.

What is wrong with me? Why am I not responding?

posted by: coldwish at 08:14 | link | comments (7) |
fuels 2007-08

News Flash

I don't want to be here.

I need to figure out why, and if it will go away.

posted by: coldwish at 08:07 | link | comments (5) |
fuels 2007-08

Christchurch Landing

Things have changed with the way the USAP (US Antarctic Program) handles we Ice folks who land in Christchurch in the days before we deploy to the Ice. We used to get met by representatives of the program at the airport, a truck would carry our huge piles of luggage to the CDC (Clothing Distribution Centre), and we would walk or shuttle over there to deal with it. This didn't happen this year, so many FNGs ended up taking their entire allotment of luggage back to their hotels and backpackers, only to have to bring it all back in the next day for gear issue.

Gear issue is the day after our US to NZ flight, where we will be sorting through our two orange bags worth of ECW (Extreme Cold Weather) gear, stalking around half-clothed in a scrum of anxious and busy women, figuring out our gear for the season. That scene is tough for the FNGs (F***ing New Guys, pronounced "Finjees"), because they have no idea what all this gear is for, let alone how to wear it or if indeed they need it.

The last thing you want to be doing is sorting through your luggage in addition to doing the ECW dance, in a place as crowded and as busy as the CDC gets on distribution day. What is easier, even if it is your first time leaving the country and you are jet-lagged out of your mind, having just spent the last 20 hours getting here, is to take your luggage straight from your incoming flight over to the CDC, and sort there. With no rush, no distractions and no tension.

We are allowed two checked bags on commercial flights, with a weight limit of 40lbs each. On the Ice flight, on the military C17 cargo carrier from Christchurch to McMurdo's Ice Runway, we are limited to a total of 75lbs of checked baggage. Everyone runs into some weight issues, and you need to open up all your bags and take out the extra bag of shampoo, or the extra books, and reduce the weight. What to do with the extra gear? If you don't need it immediately, you can use the Formerly Known As Guard Mail system, where you box it up and take it the the Military APO Post Office around the corner and they will ship it to the Ice no charge when they have space on their aircraft. You may not see these things for several weeks, as they are not priority cargo.

Your second choice is to put it in your carry-on bag. But there are size restrictions to that, if none of weight. If you just have a few things, it makes sense to load up your Big Red (the sleeping bag-sized down parka that is mandatory issue gear for all flights). Big Red has so many pockets that there are arguments as to the total count. The pockets are voluminous and you can fit darn near everything short of your laptop in it.

Anything you carry or wear is not part of the weight limit. This can make it fairly ridiculous, when we are all loaded down in our gear, pockets bulging, bright red and sweating the fine Kiwi spring weather.

So, when you arrive at the CDC, you are dissecting the contents of your commercial bags, sorting through for time-sensitive items, packing the less necessary items in boxes and shipping them out. This takes some space and time, and mental wherewithal. You don't have that on the day you get your gear.

But this year, despite my best efforts to corral as many FNGs as possible at the airport yesterday and take them to the CDC, I missed many of them. So today, gear issue is going to be a mad scrum of FNGs asking questions, millions of questions, about everything, while we returnees are hoping to do the quick Try On, Exchange, Return version of gear issue, and get the hell out of there to enjoy our last afternoon in humidity and green and flowers and Indian food, or sushi, and a night sky. We'll be answering questions about weight limits, sizes; shipping boxes, and gear. As tired as we are, as jet lagged as we are, we still need to give the anxious ones our time and attention.

So I'm headed in to the CDC a bit early, in hopes I can get my own gear done and sorted before the onslaught of questions. So I can be available for the FNGs without the expression of frustration I recall encountering when I was a FNG sorting gear.

But, gracious me, I am tired. I can sense the circles of weight under my eyes, despite a reasonable bedtime last night of 8:30pm, and a get up time this morning of 7:30am. I tilt, I list, I droop, and I need to look to the Right first before crossing the street, because I have devolved back to the look Left first habit of North America. Let's everyone be thankful I am not driving in this state of fug.

posted by: coldwish at 11:16 | link | comments (2) |
nz 2007

Travel Tip For The Sensitive-Skinned

Do Not Use The Hotel Hot Tub.

The pool is just fine, in fact I swam nearly every day I was at the Hyatt in Denver (ok, Englewood) with no issues whatsoever. But on the day a bunch of other Fuelies invited me into the hot tub, everything changed.

It changed to the tune of about $300: $240 for the urgent care clinic visit, and $50 for 60 grams of a corticosteroid creme to control the sudden blossom of red itchy blotches all over my body.  It started the night after the hot tub visit on the backs of my knees, with a drawing of blood in my sleep as I scratched with finger nails I shouldn't have under these circumstances. By the time I woke the next day it was all over my bottom, red and swollen and itchy. I looked like a baboon in heat.

It followed the line of my swimsuit up my back and under my breasts. It was in the inner part of my arms by the elbows and in distinct red splotches where I had sat hip deep in the hot tub and had rested my arms behind me on the edge of it.

So, after day one of orientation, a day in which I managed not to humiliate myself--unlike last year, where I fell asleep, head down and covered by my hoodie, twitched a mighty twitch that caused my forehead to bang flat onto the table. Yes, everyone stared, yes, they laughed--I headed over to the walk in medical clinic.

I lifted my shirt for the RN who was examining me, so she could see my back.

"Oh wow"

She poked a bit, explored a bit more.

"Speedo?"

I laughed. My rash, the eczema, had followed the lines of my swimsuit so exactly she guessed I wore a Speedo. Would I have been better off with a bikini?

I paid my money, learned my lesson, got the ointment, slathered myself as best as possible with it.

No one else in the hot tub had that issue, but I do have a history of skin sensitivity, and not just to the sun.  But it had been years and years since I've done eczema so bad it was like a solid red corset on my torso. There was no way I was going to the Ice, the driest continent on the planet, with this happening to my skin. I would never recover from it, and would be found fueling Hercs and scratching my ass with the handle of the dead man. The Guard under the wing of the plane wouldn't know what I was trying to signal.

posted by: coldwish at 10:38 | link | comments |
between 2007

Close Your Legs

What does it tell a young girl of 6 when her mother says to her: "Close your legs, sit properly. It's not polite."

Parents don't tell boys to close their legs, there is no shame in splaying one's legs open when you are male. In most any culture. I recall the men on the trains in Japan, in Tokyo, where the trains get so crowded they push the stragglers through the doors into the train. The men, drunk or sober, sitting in the full seats, legs wide open, hands resting on their balls or their inner thighs, casually seated. If they shut their legs, there would be space for one or two more people to be seated, but it never occurred to them not to take up this space they had a right to.

I've found the same phenomenon in most cultures, where women retreat into the smallest space available in public, practically curled up into themselves. They cross their legs, they fold their feet under their knees, they pull into themselves, as if they have no right to the space the men take.

Men splay, they lounge, legs apart, as if what they have between their legs is not something to be ashamed of, but to be displayed. Why not women? I've tested this theory in public places, where I will sit with my legs open. I can see the discomfort it causes, and indeed, I'm trained enough in social norms that I have to force myself to stay that way.

But girls and women, we cannot open our legs. We are told it's rude to sit legs apart, especially in a skirt, but in pants too. What is it we have between our legs that is so terrifying? Is it unclean? It is something to be hidden away?

What are we telling a 6 year old girl when we tell her to close her legs? We are telling her there's something WRONG with what is between her legs. What a terrible message to raise girls with, and how simply and easily and unquestioningly we do it.

posted by: coldwish at 10:35 | link | comments (2) |
between 2007