Team members say

You will read blogs that walk you through where we’ve been, what we’ve done and what we’ve seen. Blogs that diligently lay out our schedule, the weather conditions and each stop on the map. You will read intricate descriptions of the magnificent nature and wildlife in Antarctica. Just not on this blog. I have never been good with words, even less with maps, and I cannot tell you the different types of seals even if my life depended on it. What I would like to do is take you through my own personal journey so far and leave the rest to the more knowledgeable and skillful.

In my first blog, which was written before we reached the coast, I described my experience as “unusual”. The moment we landed it grew to “extraordinary”, and it soon reached “spectacular” - and I hadn’t taken more than a few steps from the zodiac! Since then the intensity of what we have been through has shot up to such high levels that it took me some time to finally catch up. Today, on the eight day of our expedition, I caught up. Why did it take me so long? Well, I’ve been so busy not getting seasick, dressing up warmly, attending lectures and briefings, and taking pictures of everything that is moving and even more pictures of the things that are not moving, that I didn’t make time to actually step back and absorb it all. Today, I stood up on the deck, unglued my camera from my nose and just took a deep breath. That’s when it hit me. Hard.

Antarctica is the perfect place for self exploration. She strips off your defensive layers one by one until you stand before her plain and transparent. She strips off all your protective disguise, all the different faces you wear - for your mother, for your lover, for your friends, for your boss. You stay before her vulnerable, all your fears and weaknesses exposed. And strangely, you feel at peace. As if you met the oldest friend you could ever have - a friend from once upon a time when the sea was clear, the land was untainted and the snow was blindingly white and pristine. And you feel an urge to share with her all your deepest treasures and all your darkest secrets. Because she will listen and accept you as you are, without judging or questioning. You don’t need to prove anything to her - how fast you are, how smart, how detail-oriented. You don’t need to say anything - how beautiful she is, how powerful, how ageless. How much you want her to stay forever as she is now. How she makes you feel safe and protected, and oh, so at home. And how you will do anything, anything! to give her protection so that your children can face her one day as you are facing her now. There is no need for praise or promises. Because at this moment it’s just you and her. And it finally feels right.

If I have to use only one word to describe my take on the trip so far, I would choose the word “unusual”. I don’t usually climb up (read, scramble up) a mountain for 4 hours to see a glacier, I don’t get knocked around on a boat with complete strangers for twelve days, and I definitely do not go to freezing cold places and actually look forward to it. But here I am - enjoying every minute of my trip to Antarctica! Every minute I am awake that is… Most of us are on seasickness pills and patches, which knocked us out completely on the first day, or in the better cases - turned us into walking zombies. I was physically awake only for meals and lectures (which in fact occupied most of the day). Mentally I have no idea where I was, but I made an enormous effort to pay attention, especially to the lectures on what to do if you fall out of the boat (surprisingly, there’s more than the usual “float and pray” technique), how to avoid being bitten by a seal (stay as far away as possible, duh) and what not to do to a penguin even if you have a chance (to my disappointment the list of Don’t-s includes running around and chasing their babies).

So far I managed to ask almost every one on the ship about their names, occupations and countries of origin. I also managed to forget it all right away. I blame it to the pills (against seasickness, that is). I am not sure what and whom to blame for my 6 hour detour in El Calafate (I got off the plane at the wrong stop - yeah, no comment…). But I will have enough time to contemplate and make up a story that doesn’t make me look as silly and loopy as I really am.

So, yesterday most of us spent our free time sleeping on and off, and making sure to jump out of bed on time so as not to breach a Bronco 5 (that’s the rule that requires you get to the designated place 5 minutes before the start of an event; otherwise Jumper gives you a harsh, reproachful look, and believe me, you don’t want that - you will need an anti-freeze to get your blood flowing again). Although we were considerably out of it, we managed to take advantage of a few great lectures on the history and wildlife of Antarctica as well as a presentation on climate change. We also managed to stay lucid for long enough to have a few improvised but resourceful conversations on environmental awareness.

Today was more eventful than yesterday, partly because most of us are actually awake. We saw our first whales (mostly the steam coming out of the water and the occasional back or tail), our first iceberg (it’s amazing how many pictures one can take of a block of ice and still be excited), our first land on the horizon (which included a stunning glacier), and our first penguin! Throughout the day we had more lectures and discussions on the effect of climate change on the environment and our role in protecting the fragile eco-system. The peak of emotions, however, was reached when Robert Swan and his companion (the one who looks like a good-natured Castro (yeah, an oxymoron…)) arrived on our ship and surprised us all at dinner. Robert walked around smiling and greeted everyone as if we all were old buddies of his. Now we are all psyched about getting on the shore tomorrow and visiting the e-base! This will finally break the cycle of eating, sleeping, listening to lectures, and crowding on the sides of the boat to take pictures of the slightest change on the horizon.

Now it’s time for bed. We would all need a good rest before the start of yet another unusual day.

Yuli’s initial thoughts on climate change…

We all know of some of the impacts of global warming – snow-covered mountains turn into lonely bare peaks, the ski season gives way to slush season”, and terrible hurricanes hit lands unprepared for such extremities. Although I have never visited New Orleans, I am hardly an avid skier and it will take me some time to find the Kilimanjaro on the map (not a relief one), I am affected by the climate change, as is every one of us. And since I am affected personally, I have to ask myself the question: what can I, as an individual, do to minimize this effect? I am looking forward to getting an answer to this question in the next few weeks.