CHAPTER 14
Christmas, like Thanksgiving, was another long awaited-for break in the monotony of work here at the South Pole. Because they didn’t want to detract from the Centennial celebration and the visit of the Norwegian Prime Minister, we were forced to wait till about a week before Christmas before any decorations were put up. Normally, back home, we are subject to the Christmas season barrage starting right after Thanksgiving, so this was a refreshing delay to the onslaught. Even so, it was slightly disorienting, and I have to admit a bit disappointing to hear the first holiday song on the galley stereo and realize that Christmas was only a week away. Usually I am annoyed by the month long bombardment of commercialized holiday cheer, and would welcome reducing it to a mere week, but here it is different, and perhaps exactly because there is no commercialization, and the holiday is purely one of fellowship and thanksgiving, I could have gone for a bit lengthier build up to the celebration. Either way, Christmas was upon us before we knew it.
The galley was decorated with lights, wreaths, garland, and of course a tree. Christmas music could be heard from speakers all over the station. And Kacey and I were tasked with the weeklong project of ironing dozens of table cloths and hundreds of white linen napkins. We also were lucky enough to find two extra wreaths in Skua, so we adorned the front door of our jamesway with one, and used the other as our own little Christmas tree substitute in our room, under which we arranged the modest collection of gifts and packages we had accumulated.
Before we left Colorado, we had made a point of going Christmas shopping for each other (not an easy mode to fall into so many months out), and diligently hid our assortment of gifts for one another in various nooks and crannies of our luggage until a few days before the holiday, when under obviously false pretenses, we both took our turns sneaking away to the arts and craft room to wrap them all up. These ended up beneath our make shift wreath-tree, along with some others from family we had carried with us from home, and yet more that had miraculously arrived in the mail at the last minute, even though some had been sent more than a month ahead of time.
Christmas Eve morning started off with a famous South Pole tradition- The Race around the World. Every year a 2 to 3 mile course is laid out which encompasses a good portion of the station area and by necessity circles the Geographic South Pole, giving justification to the race’s name. This year the 2.3 mile path started at the Pole, rounded the back of the station, crossed the ice-runway, or skiway, went out to the futuristic looking South Pole Telescope, made a loop through the tourist camp, past the visitor center, and returned to the South Pole. Unfortunately, this scenic circuit of the station was made meaningless by the awful weather that arrived the night before- it was freezing cold and blowing something terrible, causing zero visibility and covering the up-until-then nicely groomed race course with vast snow drifts, which were invisible against the monotone white of the ground and sky, and frustratingly sluggish to run across and through.
Notwithstanding the bad conditions, almost 50 people turned out to run the race, along with a bunch of cross-country skiers, a whole regiment of snowmobiles, trucks and tractors, some pulling hilarious trailers or floats, and even one bicyclist. Besides being a lot of fun, the big incentive for participants, at least for the runners, was that the men’s and women’s winners got a free trip to McMurdo for their annual Antarctic marathon. This year, two astrophysicists- Jamie and Sarah- claimed the titles, thus making it, in their own words, a “beaker sweep”. Kacey ended up taking the women’s bronze which won her a $50 Amazon gift card! I came in 8th for the men’s, with no reward except the satisfaction of completion- but I attribute my slothful finish to the fact that I was a little distracted taking a series of action packed photos and videos during the race, one of which almost lead to a devastating pileup between me and an overzealous camera craving skier.
That afternoon, we started off the festivities by attending a small, but exclusive, cocktail hour in the room of some polie friends who have been coming down for quite a few years (one of whom was actually that very same crazy skier). This was definitely not their first ro-de-o… In their double sized room, they had elevated their bed high above the floor, and transformed the area beneath into a surprisingly posh and complete bar, with a row of nice spirits lined up in front of a mirror-backed display, a variety of glasses to correctly accommodate whichever type of drink you might order- be it a highball, martini, wine or shot- all embossed with a matching South Pole logo, in addition to any mixer you might request, along with fresh limes and mint (real rarities here) for garnish, all the necessary bar apparatuses from muddler to martini shaker, ice on hand for cocktails, and even a mini-fridge to keep the beers cold. In a word, a fully equipped bar, with seating for 12, under a bed, at the South Pole. We were very impressed.
After a few gin-and-tonicas, it was time to move on to the next cocktail hour- this one put on by the kitchen, with a spread of appetizers from shrimp cocktail to gourmet cheese platters to little crackers adorned with blobs of duck confit (quite the delicacy I am told, but not something I would personally make a habit of trying). We where soon ushered into the dining room, which like Thanksgiving, was done up to the nines. Dinner was over the top once again, this time with beef wellington and lobster tail headlining the menu. A dance party followed and we didn’t return to our jamesway till very late in the morning.
On Christmas day, Kacey and I slept in for probably the first times in our lives. I don’t know if it is because we are getting older, or if it was just the knowledge that it would be our only chance to sleep in that week, but somehow we were able to curb our enthusiasm in favor of slumber. It couldn’t last for long though, and once we did finally open our eyes, we were all business. I doled out the presents from under our “tree” and we took turns quietly tearing open each package so as not to disturb our neighbors. This year was the Christmas-of-Socks for me. Word must have gotten out that I needed some, and I ended up with seven new pairs- all very cool argyle patterns, which are my favorite. Kacey was most excited about her new pageboy hat and English hot water bottle, and we both were overwhelmed by the bounty of “stocking stuffers” we received in the mail- as soon my eyes landed on a long, greasy, pepperoni stick that had been carefully bent in half to fit in the box, I couldn’t help myself- I tore open the wrapper like some pepperoni deprived beast, and that was Christmas breakfast.
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