I’m on the final leg of my 25-hour trip home and I’ll be landing in Columbus in less than a few minutes. Coming back to the “real world,” as we jokingly referred to the Lower 48 and home while on the Slope, has been quite an experience so far. We decided to leave the airport in Anchorage and venture downtown since we had an eight-hour layover.
The city itself was just as beautiful as I had remembered it from my brief visit in July, only this time everything seemed so odd and foreign. I felt like an alien from another planet. It felt strange to walk on paved sidewalks and the cars drove so fast! There were no bumps in the road that could send your head crashing against the ceiling of the truck without notice. The noise created by the cacophony of people and traffic was overpowering and deafening. The loudest thing I’ve heard this summer (besides the cultural percussion dance in Costa Rica) was the constant and rhythmic crashing of waves against the shore of the Arctic Ocean. I don’t remember inflorescences ever being so bright or trees ever being so tall! Every place was filled with people, traffic lights, and stores. The shopping and dining selections were completely overwhelming. In the last two months I’d become accustomed to one or two options, if that, and generally finding a way to make things work when what I thought I needed wasn’t available.
Maybe the “real world” is Osa, Katmai, and the North Slope: isolated and desolate places where you must work with both the harsh environment and others around you to survive. But I do wonder… What will 85 degrees and humidity feel like when I step outside the airport doors? What will it feel like to drive 65 miles per hour on a paved highway? What will it feel like to go grocery shopping at home where Giant Eagle, Kroger, and Whole Foods take up multiple city blocks? I know that this summer has changed me, I just don’t fully know how yet.
I know that my two most common spoken phrases have been “no worries” and “no issue.” On the Slope we had to deal with so many challenges that we couldn’t afford to get upset of every little thing, because if we did, then we’d always be frustrated. Patience was something we learned on the job: with our equipment (or lack thereof), with the weather, and with each other.
I’m certain that over the coming days, weeks, and months ahead I will continue reflecting on and processing what I have learned this summer and what this experience has meant to me. It’s been one of the most difficult and arduous journeys of my life so far and I’m exhausted. But I did it and so many things that I never imagined possible. It’s left me with only a hunger for more. Our planet is uniquely beautiful and I hope to explore and learn everything about it. I’ve just touched down in Columbus and I can’t wait to see my family…and then…the journey continues…