My nervous system is in shock. Such a sudden, loud and chaotic change has left me feeling panic, which I truly didn't expect. Having stood in the lobby of 155 waiting for new folks to arrive, jumping up and down with enthusiasm as familiar faces from last summer poured in from the cold. I was, at first, giddy with delight. Within the next 24 hours this glee turned to confusion and eventually panic as the hallways grew more and more crowded and the number of unfamiliar faces soon outnumbered the familiar. I retreated inward, physically and mentally whilst playing "I am a Rock" by Simon & Garfunkel over and over!
"I am a rock. I am an island. I have my books and my poetry to protect me. I am shielded in my armor. Hiding in my room, safe within my womb. And a rock feels no pain and an island never cries."
Even now, making the trip down to the galley for lunch takes significant effort. Most often I sit at the table silently and look over the crowd again and again. There.are.so.many.people. And this isn't near the peak population of 1200 I experienced over the summer. My brain cannot fathom it. My body remains on alert and guarded.
The arrival of fresh fruit and vegetables was greeted joy and many a trip to the toilet. I have never tasted an orange so sweet, a banana so banana-like and a carrot so crisp, only to curse them all within a half an hour.
Furthermore, whereas during the winter, I might fill up a single issue sheet throughout the day with materials from Electrical Supply, I now am completing one within an hour: a reflection of just how much business in the supply world has increased. Sadly, all my returns, receiving and transfers have remained untouched for days.
In addition to the environmental and population changes, I have also moved rooms: out of 155 and into 203A. And if that weren't enough, I have been packing and mailing my personal belongings home as I have just 35 days left on Ice!
Yes, 35 days to finish planning my seven weeks of travel, figure out some semblance of what my life might look like when I get back to the States and oh yeah, figure out what I'm going to do with the rest of my life. (Pause here for dramatic freak-out).
While I won't actually be figuring out what to do with the entire remainder of my life, something along the lines of a career path or new direction would be welcomed. There are many possibilities to consider: returning to Antarctica for Winter 2011 (February), going back to school, moving to a new city: Seattle and San Francisco are contenders, and on and on.
The dark has been quite comforting and seemingly normal, but I've had a profound emotional response to the returning daylight. The very fiber of my soul deeply resonates with the words "Let the Sunshine In" sung so soulfully in the song "Aquarius" by Helena from the Something for Everybody Album by Baz Luhrmann. It is truly a miracle to have natural light again.
With deeper snow, difficult winds and warmer temperatures (a mere -22°F today), it feels to me now, more like "real" winter than it has in all of the year of bitter dry cold here in Antarctica.
Needless to say, overwhelm and I have been spending a lot of time together. At present, I am allowing for space and chaos. Awareness of different mentalities is vital as we creatures of the long, dark night are of a completely different mindset than the summer folks who are just beginning their season. Grief has come up in the sudden departure of my fellow winterovers with whom I have bonded over the past five months. It would be an accurate description to say I have my very own palate of emotions that seem to be painting themselves into some sort of abstract existence.
All of this has not left much time for blogging, writing or even formulating a clear thought. Perhaps though, the chaotic tone will give some indication of this current transition.
I am very much looking forward to New Zealand and the long journey home to friends and family, as well as whatever other adventures my future may hold!
Once again, I read the whole piece about two times. Then ended up on UTube listening Troubled Water by Elvis and every one else, then Unchained Melody with the Righteous Guys. Fun. Thanks for the sweet interlude, Chelsea. How many more days to go now? Orinda
ReplyDeleteHi Chelsea,
ReplyDeleteFinally just caught up on your recent entries. I cannot even imagine the emotional upheaval one must experience in a transition like this, all accompanied by the sudden return of sunlight. You have articulated it beautifully, as usual. Seven weeks of travel sounds like heaven, though. It will be a good way to transition back to your non-ice life with the rest of us mortals.
It is still hot in Colorado, but everyone (except me) is already lamenting the end of summer. At higher elevations, a few trees have started turning yellow, but down in the city we are still overflowing with tomatoes and cucumbers. In my opinion, September is the best month in CO, so I am welcoming fall with open arms!
Can't wait to hear what your next adventure will be! Hope to see you when (if) you get back to Denver.