CHAPTER 12
Life for us here at the pole is probably not as exotic or glamorous as one may think. It certainly has its moments of intrigue and surprise, but most of the time it is just a normal, work-a-day existence. Not that I am complaining, far from it- Kacey and I both are still more than glad that we got the chance to come down here- its those unexpected surprises that keep things interesting and make trudging through the tedium worth it.
My goal with our website is to relate those things which are so different and unique to the South Pole, with the hope of enlightening everyone back at home. But, considering most people have never been here and have no idea what it is like (just like us less than two months ago) I realize that even what has become the most mundane of tasks for us now, say going to the bathroom, is still a mystery to the outside world. With that in mind, I will here try to portray an average day for Kacey and me at the South Pole…
6:30am- Our alarm goes off. I hide the alarm under my pillow so that it doesn’t wake up the rest of the jamesway. I can faintly hear it and hit snooze a few times before we actually get out of bed about 20 minutes later. It is light in our room now, no more dark dungeon. After my Thanksgiving oversleeping debacle we decided to try and uncover the window to let some sun in, in the hopes that our bodies would be more responsive when it comes time to wake up. It works, really well, but with the what you would think would be annoying aspect that our room is now always light, and going to bed at 10pm feels like going to bed at 2pm, but we find it easier to sleep in the bright sunshine than to force our eyes open in the pitch black morning. Jumping out of bed, we throw on our cloths quickly because the air temperature in our room hovers around 55º most mornings. We pack some things into our backpacks that we might need for the day (camera, workout cloths, computer…), put on our big puffy coats, and so as not to disturb our neighbors on night shift who have just gone to bed, we quietly tiptoe out of the jamesway.
I plan on doing another post specifically on our outdoor gear, but for now, I’ll just let you know that as incredible as it may seem, we have become quite acclimatized to the freezing temperatures here at the Pole. When we first arrived, the mere thought of venturing outside without our full equipment of ECW gear (moon boots, wool socks, snow pants, long underwear, fleece pull-over, big puffy down jacket, mittens, balaclava, beanie, and goggles) seemed ludicrous. But now, we typically leave our tent wearing no more than what we work in- tennies on our feet with regular socks, normal pants, sunglasses if it is really bright, and we still use our big coats and gloves, but these seem to get hot and Kacey doesn’t even zip hers up anymore- but this might be because her coat has the ugly habit of refusing to be unzipped.
Anyways, back to our normal day… Our fist stop is the bathroom building- a good 30 yards from our door- to brush our teeth and wash up for the day, and then the long walk to the station, which takes about 6 or 7 minuets. We climb the back stairs, enter through the big freezer-type doors, and then pick a spot along the side of the hallway to leave our jackets and backpacks for the day. Up to the second floor where the galley is, and we eat a quick breakfast- Kacey loves a bowl of hot oatmeal, and I usually get a pair of fried eggs to order, a few pieces of bacon, and with plenty of Cholula put it all together to make a delicious bagel sandwich.
7:30am- Work. Our official title is Steward, which certainly has a dignified and refined air to it. Here though, this lofty position means little more than a bastardization of janitor and dishwasher. There are six stewards on station, Kacey and I being two of them, and throughout the season we all switch shifts and positions (between janitor, or jano, and dining attendant, or DA). As DAs, you are basically responsible for cleaning the galley and washing all the dishes, including the endless stream of pots and pans that the chefs seem to crank out. Kacey and I were both DAs for the first 3 weeks we were here, and will change back to that position after Christmas, but for now we are janitors. The duties of a jano are to clean and prepare all the rooms for incoming and outgoing personnel, do all the laundry such as bedding and tablecloths and such (but not people’s personal clothes, thank goodness), and generally keep the entire station looking spit spot. Regardless of which of these positions we happen to be in at any particular time, you can be guaranteed that our 10 hours of work each day either fly by because we are busy, or drag on like a dead body, neither of which circumstances are in the least bit interesting nor warrant any further description, lest you all get board of this blog and unsubscribe.
11:30am- Lunch. We get an hour brake during our shift and Kacey and I usually choose to take the whole thing during lunch. The food is cafeteria style, and is pretty good on average (I’ll go into this with a little more detail shortly). Most of the time we will sit chatting with random people at our table, but lately we have been feeling ambitious and have been leaving the galley with half an hour to work on some little projects we have going at the moment…
4:30pm- House Mouse. Even though we are janitors, we are spared the delightful task of cleaning all the stations bathrooms. This responsibility has been termed ‘House Mouse’ and is shared by the whole station population. Depending on which room or jamesway you live in, you are assigned a certain day of the week to clean the bathroom you use the most. Our day is Thursday. As much as I dislike cleaning bathrooms, especially shared ones, house mouse is actually a nice brake from our normal duties.
5:30pm- Quitting time. After work is when our time down here really becomes enjoyable. Typically I will head to the computer lab and work on our website for awhile, and Kacey will go workout in the gym. But sometimes I go with her, and sometimes she comes with me and checks her email if the internet is up and running. If we are feeling really motivated, we might even go for a run outside (more on this later).
7:00pm- Dinner bell. Well, dinner actually starts at 5pm, but we like letting the crowd filter through before heading to the galley. Back to the food: most people here at the Pole work long hours, outside, in the freezing Antarctic climate. They burn a crazy amount of calories in the process and the kitchen has been tasked with counterbalancing this metabolic bonanza by supplying excessive amounts of high energy and protein rich food, four times a day. In simple terms, this means lots of meat and starch. They always try to throw in the token vegetable, usually frozen or canned, but fruits are considered a treat and fresh salads are practically unheard of. I might be simplifying things a bit, but the truth is, every meal is so hardy and filling it makes you full just looking at the menu. On top of that, these meals are being prepared by a kitchen full of chefs who have degrees from the most prestigious culinary schools in the country. Most of them cook at 5-star restaurants in the real world, which leads to every meal being fancy and gourmet in a 5-star way. You can imagine that the food is good, they spare no expense on the quality and quantity of their ingredients- I think I have had more steak in the last five weeks than I have had in the last five years- but it is all just a little too much sometimes, and I find myself yearning for a simple meal, something like I would make at home- luckily I found a cache of Ramen noodles in one of the cupboards that I raid on a regular bases to keep my fancy-food equilibrium in check.
We usually follow up dinner with dessert. There is always a platter of fresh baked cookies available, and most evenings they will put out a pie or cake or some other sweet treat like burgundy glazed bread pudding (there is that 5-star attitude showing through again). Not being a huge fan of soggy bread, I usually skip the dessert cart and go right for the ice-cream freezer. Up until a few days ago, all they had were a variety of New Zealand’s best ice-cream bars, one being very similar to the Double Magnum (a nemesis of mine during a summer of backpacking through Europe- if you’ve had one before, you’ll know what I mean), but just recently they cracked open their stock of real ice-cream. Giant tubs of Dryers are brought in every day, and the station, contrary to the sub-zero temperatures outside, devours them like a fat kid’s last binge before being forced to go on a diet.
7:30pm- Free time. Here is where every night is different, in both what our options are, and what we choose to do. There is usually some sort of organized activity going on: soccer or volleyball in the gym, a pool or dart tournament in the lounge, Spanish conversation club in the galley, bingo, or yoga, or Kacey’s new favorite, Stitch and Bitch, where a bunch of sauced up ladies sit around and gossip while knitting, or learning how to knit in Kacey’s case. Sometimes we get involved, and sometimes we just hangout and talk to people. Sometimes things get a little rowdy with a party in the jamesways, and sometimes we just take it easy and go home to our room for a movie on the computer.
10:00pm- Goodnight. We usually try to get in bed, or at least start getting ready for bed, around 10. Every couple of days we are allowed a 2-minute shower, and we typically try to align these nights with ones that we got really sweaty playing volleyball or something. Two minutes doesn’t sound like very long, but having no other choice, you learn pretty quickly the most efficient way to lather up and wash off. They don’t have timers on the water flow or anything that authoritarian, but there are nice big signs posted conspicuously by the shower stalls reminding you of your obligation to the community, and basically maintaining compliance through guilt.
And that’s our day.
Sundays are a whole other beast because that is our day off. Sleeping in is typically our m.o., followed by brunch and then some fun activity like cross country skiing, or a tour of some part of the station we aren’t normally allowed to go into- like one of the various astrophysical experiments (the whole reason why the station is here) or perhaps a wander through the implausible ice tunnels (stay tuned for posts on all of these things…). After dinner on Sundays they always have a science lecture put on by one of the resident egg-heads (always a PhD, and possibly even a Nobel laureate) describing some aspect of the incredible science going on down here. I love these, but Kacey finds them a little dry for her tastes most of the time, but with a big enough bowl of ice-cream I can usually convince her to stick around and listen to them with me.
And now to answer the question I posed at the beginning of this post: how do we go to the bathroom? Well, simple, in a toilet, just like normal. The one slight deviation from this easy answer is a concession to the extreme cold- walking from your jamesway to the bathroom in the middle of the night is always an uncomfortable proposition, so after years of painstaking trial and error I’m sure, the resilient community of Polies has developed a solution which may be considered somewhat uncouth, maybe even gross, by modern societal standards: the Pee Bottle.
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