Going to the Bathroom in Antarctica

 THE CENTER OF EXCELLENCE

I threw my back against the outside wall of the sleeping hut, taking cover as if dodging a wave of enemy fire.  Instead of bullets, I’m dodging from 80+ mph wind gusts full of stinging snow and freezing temperatures.  I look through the white wall of blurred snow to the Center of Excellence, our outhouse.  The fake and filthy stuffed penguin isn’t dangling from the handle meaning it isn’t occupied.  Time to go… in more ways than one.  With a gathering of my coat and courage I run out into the open to cover the last few exposed feet before reaching the center.  The wind cuts through all of my clothes.  My breath catches in my throat only to be freed by yelps of shock as the cold grips me.  I feel my beard freezing, my hands going numb.  The wind tears at my shirt and finds where I neglected to tuck it in….  I grip the metal handle with my bare hand cursing myself for forgetting gloves.  The wind fights me as I open the door, but with squinted eyes and white knuckles I wrestle it open and jump inside. 

This is what it’s like anytime one goes to the bathroom in Con 1 conditions here at camp, which is what we’ve been in for many of the past several days.  Con 1 or condition 1 means extreme winds, low temperatures and very, very poor visibility.  We are never out in the field in Con 1 conditions… on purpose anyway.  It is literally a serious and very dangerous situation.  Con 1 days are our days spent in camp.  

Camp

On a normal day in camp, a walk to the center is an easy even pleasant 10-second stroll, but on days like today, taking that walk becomes an adventure.  Looking out the kitchen door windows at the swirling columns of snow and the blanket of white obscuring your view of anything more than 30 ft away, makes you seriously consider the question, “do I really need to go to the bathroom right now?”  That’s a waiting game you will loose!  So eventually, the white, the wind, you and your digestive needs, will all meet.  It’s a process, an adventure for sure.  One that doesn’t end simply once you’ve entered the center.  Not to be overly graphic but honestly, it’s pretty damn interesting what goes on in there.  It is a step, by step, by squat process. 

 

Our Center of Excellence Guardian.

First, how does one know if the center is occupied?  Our in use or not in use symbol is a poor raggedy stuffed penguin doll who either hangs on the handle indicating someone is being excellent, or from a hook on the corner of the building meaning the center is vacant and excellence could be achieved by anyone who feels so moved.  We have three depositories; two are urinals, one for the gents and a sit down model for the ladies.  The third is a glorious throne for solid waste.  That’s right, we keep 'em separate down here.  I’ll let your imaginations and a hopeful understanding of the physical properties of water and freezing temperatures to suss the ‘why’ out of that one.  It does complicate the process however.  One must be sure to have their… hmm… order of things, planned out before… committing.  The seats are covered with this wonderful blue foam that amazingly and thankfully, despite the negative temperatures inside the center, never feels cold when you… um… utilize them.  The men’s urinal empties into large oil barrels sitting outside the center that contain urine/grey water.  The ladies simply empty their liquid waste tin into the men’s urinal when they’re done.  These barrels are collected every few weeks by the Carps (carpenters – essentially a division of handy people on the base who are in charge of setting up and maintaining field camps).  The solid waste container is a painters bucket lined with a plastic bag that is situated beneath the throne.  Here’s where it gets kind of weird.  In order to keep things a little more… aesthetically pleasing, after each ‘event’ a layer of cardboard is put down creating one of the most terrifying layered cakes you could possibly imagine within that bucket.  Once it fills up we screw a special lid onto the bucket and duct-tape the crap – no pun intended… ok maybe a little – out of the bucket and change it out.  Every week or so, at least two of us will go into town for a day off.  In with us goes various trash bags, empty water jugs and the human waste buckets.  From there amazingly the buckets are shipped off continent in refrigerated containers at the end of the season back to the states to be incinerated bucket and all.  It’s a pretty wasteful process honestly.  Man, just imagine what the cargo hold of that ship would be like.  Better hope the refrigeration units don’t break!  Doesn’t make sense, but that’s the way the do… do it Haha.  Thankfully the cold here ensures smell is at a minimum and that those buckets are frozen solid by the time we need to transport them.  It’s a strange, comical and effective system.  Weirdly, it very plainly gives all of us a clear measure of the camps digestive health, but thankfully also provides regular comic relief with a bit of frozen outhouse humor.  Going to the bathroom in Antarctica leaves no room for humility only excellence J  Utility and practicality are at the core of everything we do down here.  Not even the most basic of human functions are exempt from those principles. 

Going to the bathroom in the field is an entirely different beast and one that is solely and undeniably controlled by the wind.  I’m sure you can understand why.  

Not many picture with this post.  You're welcome.

 

 Morning starting with clear weather around us but bad stuff headed our way.