Why Antarctica?

There are many, many moments when I wonder why the hell I live in Antarctica. Usually this question follows a meal at the galley (our dinning hall), especially during winfly when the freshies (fresh vegetables and fruit) are at an all time low and my diet restricts me from seven eigths of the meal. Mush only tastes so good for so long.

Why Antarctica? That’s what I ask on a slow day at work, in our over heated building from the late 70’s; i feel like i could be anywhere in industrial america. Or on my walk home when the ambient temperature outside is 28 below and my hair wet from the gym freezes in the short 100 feet. Of all places, why did I pick the most isolated continent on earth? Sometimes, after I phone conversations Teeo, J, or my family I feel like I am 15,000 miles away…and know that I actually am.



But then, there are other days when nearly every second I am grinning ear to ear, giddy as a gallant hero or a 4-year-old full of laughter. All the details of habituated life are cared for, the creatively constructed parties turn me into a dancing machine...and the people make me laugh (hard!). Plus, the adversity of this lifestyle, the challenges that emerge from the climate, the isolation, and the intense social sphere push me to look inside and ask really big questions. Down here, I feel alive, more playful than I have been since I was a roll-y little tike living in Dyersville, Iowa. And strong. I am reminded of why I love traveling, what I love of life, and that…

I love Antarctica.