Dear Fucked-Up Summer Person,
How much of a problem is boredom? Do people really go crazy and have to be locked up?
Brian
Brian,
Great question. Remember when you were a kid and you got stuck at home during a snow day? That is what life here can be like. You can go play outside, but it's cold, very cold. So, you search around at home for things to do. To fight boredom in these parts people sometime find creative outlets. Some write, while others play music. There is an ample supply of books here, and exercise facilities draw people in as well. Adventurous folks often choose to make short movies. Some of the more popular ways to fill time off tend to be watching videos, playing video games, or drinking. Booze is always a good way to make even the most mundane of days seem exciting. Recently I heard about a fellow who was challenged to drink a bottle of Tabasco sauce for a sum of 52 greenbacks. Boredom definitely had a hand in that episode. Perhaps booze did as well.
Thankfully, NSF & Raytheon have provided the workers in Antarctica with a 6 day, 10 hour a day work week, therefore eliminating a lot of that pesky free time. You can think of them as a mom that gives her child chores to do on a snow day. A lot of people, due to the long work week find sleeping an excellent way to burn those free hours.
As far as people going crazy from boredom, not a big problem. Someone is more apt to go crazy from the lack of sunlight during a winter or lack of love. Another thing that can drive any sane person over the edge here is trying to keep track of all the insane rules that seem to materialize out of air, or rather a manager's anus, at any given moment. Thanks for writing. Answering your question helped me fight off boredom for a short spell.
Yours,
Fucked-Up Not-Bored-At-The-Moment Summer Person
~~~
Dear Fucked-Up Summer Person,
What are the racial demographics there? Are there many minorities?
Sugar Land Star
Hey Sugar,
Good question. As near as I can figure, without the aide of an official government census, it's not exactly the most diverse bunch. Just think of life down here as a Brady Bunch episode with more snow.
Fucked-Up Summer Person
~~~
Dear Fucked-Up Summer Person,
Are there any families or children living there? Are there nurseries or schools for the kids? What contact do you have with other international bases? Are there international parties and romance?
Jessica G.
Jessica,
Great questions. First off there are no kids in Antarctica. The sole reason being they don't make good workers. NSF has plenty of adults that act like children to worry about down here as it is. Be certain the NSF isn't in the business of raising kids and would hate to spend valuable science money on such frivolous things as nurseries or schools. Not to mention a child doesn't understand the value of money. Therefore, management's favorite tactic of threatening to take away money in order to gain obedience would be nullified.
Is there anything finer than international romance? Couldn't tell you. I work at South Pole Station and have exactly zero opportunities to find that elusive international love you speak of. The closest I come to it is spending a night sipping on chilled vodka while looking for Russian brides on the internet.
On the other hand, workers at McMurdo base have much better odds of stumbling into international affairs of the heart. New Zealand has a base a couple of miles away from McMurdo. I've worked numerous seasons at McMurdo and, while I haven't personally been fortunate enough to sample the sexual fruits from the Kiwi base, I assure you some have. Once a week those ever-so-friendly Kiwis open their bar up to the Yanks on "American night". That is an excellent chance to mingle with those Kiwi neighbors. Throughout the season they also host parties to which everyone is invited. Also, the Kiwis have an open invitation to come over to McMurdo for all functions. So, there is hope to land an international lover while working at McMurdo. Fear not, international bonds are strengthened with booze at every turn.
Yours,
Fucked-Up Summer Person
~~~
Dear Fucked-Up Winter-Over,
We are a group of friends that host dinners from different countries. My husband and I are hosting a party from Antarctica and would like ideas of the kinds of things you eat and the entertainment and some of the unique cultures. Any input would be appreciated.
Kelly B.
Hi Kelly,
If I was going to have an "Antarctic" themed party (which I wouldn't), I would hope that it was an Italian Antarctic Programme themed party; I hear they eat like kings and drink wine at lunch. But if you are looking for hints on a McMurdo themed party, here's what I suggest:
First, fill a few chaffing dishes with chicken wings and deep fried mozzarella sticks. Then pour a large bowl of potato chips and set out some dry nachos with the cheapest salsa you can find. Then invite 1000 people whom you live and work with, even the ones you can't stand, and make sure that about half of them are horny guys and 1/4 of them are un-interested women. Don't forget to have a lame theme like "Disco Night", "Redneck Ball", or "Country Bingo" and encourage everyone to dress up.
Next hire either a classic rock cover band or an inexperienced DJ with one too many Hooty and the Blowfish CDs. To really jazz things up throw in some 16 month-old beer, a slow-ass bartender, and a cheap fog machine.
Oh, here's a unique culture: at about midnight make all of the couples leave and watch the horny (and drunk) guys circle up around the un-interested women. We call this "The Rut"; it's better than any Wild Kingdom episode you've ever seen. Lastly, time it so that as the guests leave the party they step out, drunk and confused, into the blazing noon sun. That is about a Saturday night in McMurdo.
Good luck.
FUWO
~~~
Dear F-UWO,
It's July, the mailboxes are full, what are my chances of possibly getting there by September? I'm living in Michigan, can't get to Colorado, don't know someone who knows someone, not a scientist or engineer, is it even realistic to think that I could work there?
Could you explain Uncle Ray-Ray's idea of a good candidate? What the hiring process is? Why you keep coming back? I have a master's degree, but it's in a social science. What's the background of some of the support workers there? Could you tell me about the women? Do they have lots of problems with misogyny or harassment? Are the fellas pretty accepting of a different sex? (I heard that ship work for ladies can be pretty difficult.)
What do you enjoy most about your work? Since there's not a whole lot else to do, a 56-hour work week isn't so bad, is it? Could you talk about this more?
Do you get to visit the other stations? Am I asking too many questions?
Twenty Questions
Oh Brother, Twenty Questions, cut back on the coffee or something. I haven't seen the sun in two months, my brain is being eroded by alcohol, my girlfriend is getting snippy tonight, and now I got you and your hyperactive, can't-find-a-job panic streak to deal with. Christ on a cracker.
First of all, calm down. Sure, you're competing with thousands for a shot at the USAP big leagues, but it's only July and contracts change hands down here faster than a congressman being whisked off to the Dry Valleys in a helicopter. There is ALWAYS a chance of getting down here; my first year I wasn't hired until Halloween.
I can't really speak for Uncle Ray-Ray, but it seems like their ideal candidate is someone who is so blinded by the chance to see "Pristine Antarctica" that they are willing to work 54 hours a week for sub-standard pay with no hope for overtime, without the civil rights recognized by the constitution of the United States of America and the protection of OSHA regulations (while paying State and Federal taxes), and somehow believe that they are being handed the sweet end of the lollypop.
The Hiring Process? Send in as many applications as you can afford to photocopy at the local library. Then call, call, call. 1-800-688-8606. Put it in your speed dial. No one gives a shit about your masters degree here. Can you shovel snow six days a week? Can you mop up puke in the bathrooms? Can you wash crusty old dishes that were in someone's room all week and they finally brought them to the dish room on Sunday? Wake up. Scientists don't grovel for work with Raytheon, they grovel for NSF grant money.
The workers here are workers. Miners, loggers, craftsmen-and-women. And college dropouts, trust-fund adventurers, travelers, clueless wanderers, and people addicted to the easy money and the comfort of institutionalization. I often wonder, is the return rate higher here or in American prisons?
If you consider a bunch of awkward, frustrated, Neanderthal guys trying to slow dance with you after last call at the bar "harassment", then yes there is harassment. If you ever get hired, assuming you are halfway attractive (and that you can keep the annoying questions to a minimum), you will be competing with the other attractive females for that tiny slice of the McMurdo population: the desirable, and available, male (or female, if that's your thing).
By the way, Twenty Questions, this is the most exhausting e-mail I have ever answered: my buzz is wearing off. So one last word of advice: if you ever do get hired, you might just find that there is more to do here than you ever imagined. If I could swing it somehow, I could live down here for a year without working an honest day, and still not do all the things I'd like to.
FUWO
~~~
Greetings Generic FUWP,
Exactly what are you all drinking down there? Beer, mixed drinks? What? Could you also spin my way some interesting Antarctic-specific drinks or drinking games. It seems like you guys/gals have a lot of free time to fill sometimes, and you seem to be doing it in VERY intersting ways.
Just picking your brains...
Andrew H.
Good question Andrew H. but I’ve got a better one: what the hell are you smoking up there? My good friend and esteemed colleague the Fucked-Up Summer Person answered a very similar question just a few columns ago. Maybe your short term memory isn’t what it used to be? And I don’t know where you got the idea that we are searching out ways to fill our free time...probably reading some NSF publication. After I work 54 hours a week, sleep like 50-some, eat a few meals a day, that leaves me barely enough time to watch a couple movies on the couch and answer your e-mails. If you think that figuring out a way to get the company to give me a non-skid mat for my doorway so I don’t break my neck walking into work is a VERY interesting way to spend my free time, then I guess I can spare a few minutes to answer your e-mail.
At the moment I am drinking Bass Ale. I have them lined up like centuries in my fridge. But I am also partial to scotch, particularly scotch and cream soda and "hot scotchlates". Another fringe favorite is the Irish Car Bomb: a shot of Bailey’s, with a dash of Bushmills on top, dropped into a glass of Guinness. Drink it real quick before it gets gross.
And then there is an elite group of (so far only) men down here who do more before breakfast than most people do in a month, and when they drink, they drink jet fuel. However, if you don't have access to 55-gallon barrels of pure alcohol but you still really want to impress your friends with a drinking game from the Antarctic, here's one: fill a teaspoon with Bombay gin and snort it. Do both nostrils, even if you cry like a baby after the first one. Your friends will all hate you, with good reason.
FUWO
~~~
Dearest Fucked-Up Winter-Over,
I heard a rumor the other day that there is a road being built from McMurdo to the South Pole. Is that true? Why is a road needed?
Thanks,
Curious Lad
Dearest Curious Lad,
That was no rumor. Fact, Fact, Fact. They ARE building a road to the South Pole: the first Trans-Antarctic highway. It is about as wide as your average county road and, after several months of construction, just over three miles long. Usually road building goes a little quicker, but the South Pole Traverse had to cross the Shear Zone, where ice flowing off the polar plateau log-jams against Ross Island. Mountaineers, Blasters, and Equipment Operators crossed more than thirty crevasses, some up to 100’ deep and covered by snow bridges forty-feet thick. When a crevasse was detected with radar, the crew would blast away the deceptive snow bridge, fill the slot with snow, and forge on ahead thirty feet or so to the next crevasse.
Why is the road needed? Good question. You might as well ask "Why is the sky blue?" or "Why do birds sing?" or "Why am I not writing my congressman about this?" The correct answer is that A Road Is Not Needed. Just like filling ice core drill holes with acetone is not needed, and beheading seals is not needed, and applying for a permit from the US Government so you can walk in the pristine wilderness of the Antarctic is not needed.
Five years ago there were about 160 scheduled flights to the South Pole in the austral summer, and that was when the Navy (not the National Guard, aka Weekend Warriors) were in the cockpit. This year there were over 300. Flights are scheduled, months in advance, for every working day. They don’t plan for snow days. It doesn’t take to long to fall hopelessly behind. Dollars and cents say it is more economic to drag heavy cargo to the south pole with tractors than to fly it there in planes. The congressional committee overseeing the NFS’s budget sends representatives down almost every year to look into things like this. But it must be tough for them to focus on such tiny details when faced with the breathtaking splendor of the pristine Antarctic. I know that my first time down I was overwhelmed just trying to figure out where I was supposed to report to work demolishing buildings. Those congressmen have so much more to worry about: like being on time for their helicopter tours of the Dry Valleys, lavish DV (Distinguished Visitor) receptions, and photo ops at the new South Pole Station.
I hate to tell you Curious Lad, but you should be asking your congressman why is a road to the south pole needed. And if they try and tell you anything other than "strategic presence", vote for someone else who will give it to you straight.
Like Me.
FUWO
~~~
Dear Fucked-Up Summer Person,
Your advice column is just terrific. In fact, Big Dead Place as a whole is just amazing. It has really touched me. The last couple of days I have been feeling like I needed to make a Big Change. I thought about quitting my job. I considered moving to a brand new town. After reading your column, I feel much better about my life and situation. That is not to say that I look down on you, and think, "Wow, I'm glad I've got it better than that!" No. I have read your column and admired the quiet yet strong approach you take to dealing with the adversity in your life. I like your sense of the ludicrous.
I know this isn't really a question, so maybe I should get a second opinion from you about my life. I mean, who better to ask then a person thousands of miles away who knows absolutely nothing about my circumstances or character? Should I quit my job? Should I leave town? Should I, gulp, make a really big move and sell my comicbook collection?
David H.
David,
First of all, Fucked-Up Summer Person is gone. He is mowing the lawn in Denver and getting high with his friends and jerking off, probably 'cause his girlfriend is still here. I am the Fucked-Up Winterover.
David, you got problems. If you are down here and you worship Big Dead Place, that's understandable. But if you are up in the "real world" where you can choose what you will eat for dinner and call in sick in the morning without fearing that it may cost you a thousand dollars, and you still gain inspiration from BDP, you are leading one sorry life. Should you quit your job? Obviously. Should you leave town? Fuckin' A right; you must. Should you sell your comic book collection? Hell no, you selfish prick. You are holding something much more valuable than what a swine comic book dealer will pay you. Everyone, no matter how deprived, knows a thirteen-year-old whose life will be changed forever by X-Men 1, or the mutant massacre crossover with New Mutants and Power Pack way back in the eighties. Give the fucking things away, all of them, to one cool little kid you know. Then leave town. Quit your fucking job and go for a gig in Antarctica and find out how the other half lives. Take the bull by the horns and walk off the fucking plank Popeye. As bad as things are down here, at least we are not writing to strangers and asking them what we should do with our lives. You know all this deep down. Sport some sack and make a god damn decision. Jesus.
Fucked-up Winterover
~~~
Dear Fucked-up Winterover,
Just was wondering what the ratio of men to women is during the winter? Do you have a significant other, or do you abstain? Or does the whole population share? (Is it just one big orgy going on down there or what?) And just what type of women are down there during the winter? Buttafaces, or buttabodies? Inquiring minds need to know.
The Pervert
Pervert,
Answers in the order of your questions, Rain Man:
20/80, you'd be amazed.
Yes.
No.
No...but sometimes, depending on your scene.
Orgies? Mostly in the mind...but not really too often, and mostly on the Down Low.
Loose.
Fine; 10's for sure.
Pervert? You don't even know the half of it.
Fucked-up Winterover
~~~
Dear Fucked-up Winterover,
Do you have an Antarctican language or slang? I'm a foreigner in Berlin and I'll be damned if they don't sound like they're gargling blood at me. It's cold here too. Are you gargling blood when you talk? What about boobs?
Love from the city of hate,
Leah
Dear Leah,
I have spent some time in Germany and I know what you mean. If you think Berlin is bad, you should head to the southeast. Down there they sound like chickens gargling blood.
Anyway, here in McMurdo, modern English is the standard language, but we do have some local slang. For one thing, almost every work center is abbreviated: MEC, BFC, SSC, MCC, etc., and Christchurch, NZ is shortened to CHCH [pronounced "Cheech"]. Probably everyone¹s least favorite is HR, for Human Resources.
Another bit of slang that comes to mind is the term "boomerang". This refers to the frequent occurrence of planes reaching the PSR (Point of Safe Return) only to find that the weather in McMurdo is too bad to land, causing the plane to turn around a mere 30 minutes away from McMurdo, suddenly transforming a five-hour-flight to Antarctica into a nine-hour-flight to the exact place you were standing before you took off. Boomerangs also happen for mechanical reasons, which are often a much smaller time commitment, but just as annoying. I¹ve had friends that have boomeranged six times before actually making it to Antarctica.
We also have "The Crud". Anywhere else this is simply an upper respiratory infection, but here if you sneeze, or have a runny nose, or hack up something the color of an Operation Iraqi Freedom uniform, you've got the crud. "Real" doctors in Antarctica actually use this diagnosis.
My favorite slang word is 'skua'. When you find something useful in the trash, like a lava lamp, a coconut bra, or a pair of 501 jeans with the crotch still intact (the crotch is always the first thing to go, I don¹t know why), you are said to have "skua'd" it. The Skua is a bird that looks like a seagull with big fucking claws. They are the badasses of Antarctic wildlife, known for scavenging. They will dive bomb a human for a slice of garlic bread.
And what about boobs? I can tell you this much, this winter we¹ve got exactly 156 of them in McMurdo (a few more if you count man tits), and thank god for them. There is nothing quite like the sight of two perky nips poking through a carhartt bib. Feel free to send some photos if you like, and we'll see just how cold it is up there in Berlin. We don't get to see the old orbs of pleasure too often down here, but this Friday night is Hooters Night at the non-smoking bar: chicken wings and pale waitresses. Our local rock band Stunt Cock is playing and it's the hottest ticket in town. Get there early for a good seat.
Thanks for the question and Love from the harsh continent,
Fucked-up Winterover
~~~
Info on amputation, please.
My son went out during a snowstorm and dangled his arm in the swimming pool for thirty seconds. He is 10 years old. Is he qualified to work/live in Antarctica?
Love,
Barbara
PS - I always put an ice cube or 2 in my coffee or else I can't drink it for like an hour.
Dear Barbara,
What the hell was your son thinking? It's a fucking snow storm. Stay out of the water. He's only ten though, so we can't expect much from him, but you're his mother, you should know better. First of all, why does your pool have water in it in the winter, shouldn't you drain it? And what was your response? "Hey Billy, get your arm out of the fucking pool!" No, it was "Where the hell's my stopwatch?" Lastly, was his arm amputated? Because if so, I am sorry to say that there is very little chance that he will ever see Antarctica as a participant in the United States Antarctic Program. Besides being a shade on the young side, he would have to pass a thorough medical examination before being considered Physically Qualified (PQ'd), and I honestly don't know the NSF's policy on amputees in Antarctica. I think his best shot would be some sort of make-a-wish angle where the crippled kid gets to go see a penguin in the wild. NSF would eat that one up, the press would be great.
I am not sure what all this has to do with amputation, but a few months ago I went out to a high-profile seal camp where the researchers attach lights and video cameras to Weddell seals to make Antarctica's most boring seal videos. Near the camp I found a brutally decapitated seal, blood everywhere. I would have suspected the skuas but there was no sign of a skull. Back at McMurdo, a quick check of the shipping records confirmed one seal head sent to Texas A&M University. The scientists (aka beakers) told me that the night before, the whole gang had sat around the seal hole and dangled their arms in the water to see who could take it the longest. The contest ended in a tie after two brilliant minds went ten minutes with their limbs dangling in icy water.
So if little Billy actually does make it to Antarctica, he is bound to find others with similar interests. And since you don't seem all that concerned for his well-being, our after work activities (drinking, unprotected sex, and vicious gossiping) won't concern you and may even be educational for him.
Love,
A Fucked-Up Winterover
PS -I don't drink coffee, but I burn my tongue on hot cocoa all the time, because I'm impatient.
Next Page (Fucked-Up Summer Person) >>
Consult the Fucked-Up Winter-Over at: winterover@bigdeadplace.com The Antarctic winter lasts from about March to October. Questions asked from October to March will be directed to the Fucked-Up Summer Person.
Big Dead Place cares about quality. That's why we cannot guarantee that the advice columnist will be at a particular Antarctic station, hold a particular title, write coherently, or treat you courteously. We cannot guarantee that the columnist will be the same person from week to week, as one's attention on the ice tends to wander from any activity that doesn't satisfy some immediate and crude desire. We can only guarantee that your columnist is presently in Antarctica writing from a state of devastating intoxication. If you suspect that your question has been given sober contemplation, please notify fscott@bigdeadplace.com and the Fucked-Up Antarctican will be destroyed so as not to infect the others.