Plane Rides to the Polar Region

Flying on SAS to Oslo

My last view of the USA

20:00 EST/ 2:00 CET (Central Europe Time)

I’m comfortably seated in a window seat of my eight-hour flight to Oslo. I upgraded my seat to SAS Go Plus or something so that I could bring my second bag. Apparently the cost of a second bag was twenty dollars more than a seat upgrade. Both were over $100. I got to sit in the SAS lounge for three hours, I get a nicer seat, and thanks to the free Wi-Fi, I was able to check-in and buy an extra bag for my connecting flight to Longyearbyen, so maybe in the end it was worth it. I have a little bottle of red wine, the sun is setting over Maine, my seat companion is a young Asian man who fell asleep nearly as soon as we got on board. I wonder if he’s going to Longyearbyen. Probably no. 

7:28 AM CET

About to land. Norway looks beautiful.

Rivers near Oslo from the plane

10:54

On the last flight on my way to Longyearbyen. Making the transfer at Gardemoen airport was not particularly difficult, and I was able to make it to the gate with plenty of time. The only weird thing was that I went all the way to domestic check-in, assuming that because Longyearbyen is Norwegian, it would be domestic. They checked me in, but the old woman serving me looked very confused. I then had to walk all the way back through to international to get to my gate, and then had to wait in line for passport check. I guess Svalbard is lumped into international. There were quite a number of Americans, particularly older couples, with me on their way to a cruise leaving from Longyearbyen. There was even a couple from Melbourne, Australia. They were all very pleasant to talk to in the passport line. One couple was just returning from Svalbard, and they said that not only in the hospital in Longyearbyen very good, but there is produce in the supermarket. That’s a relief. I talked to another UNIS student while waiting for the gate to open, Andrea, a German environmental engineering student studying Arctic Technology. She was as excited and unknowledgeable about life in Svalbard as me. She will be staying in a tent for eight weeks and then eventually moving into the short-term student housing. That sounds gross, and I hope she does OK. She also claims that we need to swim in the Arctic Ocean as part of our preparation. I don’t know about that, but I’m not too worried. I’ve swam in cold water before, and we’ll be wearing lifejackets and be constant supervision. Now the only thing to worry about is getting my suitcases on arrival (apparently suitcases are lost quite often) and then getting to my apartment without incident. 

I’m passing the time by reading the safety literature.

Approaching Svalbard

I didn't realize we were approaching land until I saw the tops of mountains sticking up through the clouds. There didn't seem to be any land beneath, only a sea of white clouds with purple and white mountains. It was surreal and alien, and I began to question this entire endeavor just based on the fact that there was no civilization in sight and no green at all.

Then we descended through the cloud layer, and everything became white. For about five minutes, we couldn't see anything outside the window except for pale brown fading in and out as we passed mountains. I must admit I was nervous we were going to crash into something. But eventually we passed down through the cloud layer and into an Arctic wasteland of dead grass and rock. We landed with a loud crash, and then I was in Longyearbyen. After grabbing my bag, I stepped out into the cold. I wondered what my first impression of Svalbard would be: the cold? the bright sun? it's beauty? I would say the cold was certainly on my mind, but I didn't think desolation would be the first thing to pop into my head.

There just WASN'T MUCH HERE. I walked into the large, boxy airport and joined the crowd of people waiting for baggage. I had heard how often baggage doesn't make it to Longyearbyen, so as I waited, I was half-expecting my bags to be lost. But they weren't. I grabbed my bags and said goodbye to Andrea, who was going to go live in a tent for several weeks instead of student housing (?!?). 

So then I was standing outside the airport, in the wind in cold, feeling lost in the middle of no where. There were several buses, but they seemed like they were meant for tour groups. I had no idea what to do, besides wait. I stumbled into another UNIS student, Mariana, who I had sort of communicated with on Facebook, and she told me she was waiting for another bus. Good. Something for me to do besides feel entirely lost. So we waited. And waited. Eventually a big taxi van came by, and somehow UNIS was brought up. So we both pushed our bags into the van and sat down, not knowing where we were going or, in my case, how I was paying, and set off into the windswept land I would now call my home. 

A Visit Home to New Jersey

I've been in Princeton visiting home for the past six days and now I'm nearly about to leave for the airport for the first leg of my journey. It has been somewhat melancholy past couple days, but I've enjoyed my time here and will cherish the last memories of spending time with my family and friends until I see them in December.

Coming in to Princeton from the airport last Saturday, I had a bad headache and stomachache, and was sore from dragging my suitcases. It was nice to be home, back in my room and in my hometown Of course things had changed since I had last been here: two of the four bathrooms in the house were under construction. From my previous visit, much of my childhood room had been packed into boxes and the WIFI password is now a long, unintelligible string of numbers and letters (though my siblings have both memorized the entire thing). The first night back was fairly uneventful. My sister arrived from her boyfriend's friend's lake-house an hour after she said she'd return, but my parents were nonplussed.  My nerves were raw from having just left Chicago for 5 months, and video-chatting with Freddy only made the growing geographical distance more solid and unbearable.  

The next day, I convinced my family to take us to the Jersey shore. We all piled into the family Volvo and drove for an hour with traffic to get to Point Pleasant. I hadn't been to Point Pleasant for nearly a decade, and I was looking forward to a day of lying on the beach and braving the cold Atlantic Ocean.  When we arrived, paid for an hour of parking, and then walked to the beachfront. The attendant informed us that due to the strong riptides along the coast no one was allowed in the water. We instead walked to the boardwalk. The New Jersey boardwalk is the longest continuous boardwalk in the world, but the areas of boardwalk games and restaurants are situated in patches. Almost as soon as we entered the area with games, I remembered why I hadn't been back to the Jersey shore in so long. I'm not that interested in dart games or salt-water taffy. In the end, we played two balloon pop games, bought chocolate fudge, looked at sandals for my brother, bought mediocre fruit smoothies, and then left. Being in the warmth was nice, but I could tell I wasn't the only one who was disappointed with the turn of events but trying to put on a happy face. 

We spent the rest of the afternoon shopping for Arctic supplies at camping good stores. Considering I was trying to buy winterwear in suburban New Jersey in August, we did a surprisingly good job. At Eastern Mountain Sports, I was able to buy glove liners, thermal underwear, and a camping mattress. My sister left nearly as soon as we entered the store, and I found out later that her ex was one of the cashiers. I don't blame her. Our next stop was REI, which is my favorite store chain in the world. We weren't able to find snow pants, but I found warm fleece pants and "mistral pants," a kind of very stretchy, windproof, waterproof outer pants layer, which will hopefully serve me well in the coming cold months. In addition to snow pants, I bought a sampler of exotic hot chocolate mixes. Take that Freddy. You're not the only one to get Parisian hot chocolate during his study abroad. When I returned to the car with my purchases, my siblings started yelling at me for taking too long and continued for the rest of the ride home. I kept silent, thankful for my new purchases, but a tad frustrated that this was to be end of one of my last family outings. 

That evening, my family threw a barbecue and we were joined by my sister's friend Talya, and my friends, Ben and Will. I wanted to recreate the amazing burgers I had at Umami Burger in Wicker Park, so I caramelized onions. This took over forty minutes, and while I slowly stirred onions, the rest of my family watched American Ninja. Afterwards, they told me that I missed a good show. But they also really enjoyed the caramelized onions, so at least I have that. Seeing Ben and Will, two high school friends, was of course nice. We caught up, and it was pleasant to sit around and talk about our respective lives. They are both politically-inclined, so they spent a lot of the evening talking politics while I listened politely. I haven't been following any of the recent debates, so I was a bit lost. When the evening came to a close, I really hoped the last family outing wouldn't be just this half-day on the boardwalk. I stayed up late looking for Kindle books to read while in Svalbard, something epic and also a sappy romance. Not finding anything, I went to sleep at 1 AM.  

I had forgotten that the bathrooms were under construction until loud drilling woke me up the next morning at 8 AM. I always forget how more often than not there's something noisy pushing us all out of the house early in the morning. I groggily escaped the noise by going to my mom's office to listen to her practice her new class's lectures with me. It's going to be a really interesting class on zoonotic diseases and public health policy, and I only hope that her students are as interested in the topics she presents as is fitting. I was also half-asleep during one of the YouTube videos she showed me. That same day, we went to deal with banking and bought the last pair of snow-boots in the Princeton shoe store. When I came in and asked for snow boots, they asked 'What? Are you going to Alaska tomorrow?' and I replied without missing a beat 'No, I'm going to Svalbard on Thursday.' Amazingly, the last pair of snow-boots they had were the right size (two sizes up from my normal shoe size to handle my pants and heavy socks) and surprisingly inexpensive. They too will hopefully serve me well. In the grocery store, I bought supplements and spices, things I was worried I wouldn’t be able to get in the northernmost settlement in the world.  I was on the verge of tears when we left, I was preparing myself for a long while without fresh produce. We had salmon that night, and it was delicious, but it wasn't enough to fill me up. My sister had left for a sleep-over at her friend's, and my brother was busy with computer games, so I watched 'The Golden Compass' with my parents. It was a fun movie to watch before going to Svalbard, but it feels unfinished ending on a cliff-hanger. Alone in my room, I was still worried that the beach would be the last time I'd spend with my entire family. I went to cheer myself up with a piece of the fudge we bought from the boardwalk, but the box was empty. My brother had eaten the entire thing. My dad told me we could get more fudge if I really wanted, but I was already back in my room, frustrated and hungry. 

Tuesday began again with drilling in the room next to mine, and I had to leave the house when they shut off all the water. I returned to my mom's office to listen to more of her lectures, briefly went Small World Coffee, and then to the library, and then it was 3pm and we were picking up my dad. It was raining heavily. As we drove around the parking lot of the supermarket, about to buy dinner ingredients for my grandparents' visit that night, a car rammed into our back-left door. No one was hurt, but it rattled us and was an annoyance. Seeing my grandparents was wonderful, and I'm so glad that I was able to see them before I left.  We had a little photoshoot with my family and myself in my new Arctic winterwear. Sarah's boyfriend Jacob joined us, and despite his overwhelming aura of Princeton, I enjoyed his company. My sister and him seem very happy together. My sister relayed how they met while walking to the Princeton Center for Jewish Life during their prospective student weekend (I could nearly hear myself rolling my eyes), and then Jacob entertained us with an hour of cello. It was very...something.  After everyone had left, I finally told my parents that I wanted one more excursion as a family before I left, and they said they would try to take us all to the Grounds for Sculpture. Content, I went to sleep.

I woke up panicked that I would miss my connection in Oslo during my two-hour layover. I spent the morning frantically looking up information and back-up plans. My mom pointed out that if I get stressed about travel so much, I shouldn't be entering a field of science that requires so much travel, which only worsened my panic.  Thankfully, the bike trip I took with my dad and brother to Lawrenceville really helped calm my nerves. Exercise always settles my nerves, and riding through the green meadows filled with wildflowers let me forget all my concerns and live in the moment for a little while.  My backside is still sore from the bike trip, but it was a much needed foray into nature. I soaked up as much greenery as I could, and collected a Queen Anne’s Lace blossom to press and keep with me in my journal. When we returned, I registered for an absentee ballot for the upcoming election. I’m just excited to receive mail in Svalbard.  My mailing address:

Julian Spergel

PO Box 394

Longyearbyen, Norway

N-9171

Norway

My entire family drove to the Grounds for Sculpture. It was a beautiful day, and it was really nice exploring the vast park, studded with whimsical sculpture. Even Joshua’s usual whininess couldn’t get me down. He claimed that sculpture was pointless because it was all just phallic imagery. I humored him, helping him find all the phallic imagery (to a bored fourteen-year-old everything is phallic imagery). After visiting Grounds for Sculpture, we went to a Greek restaurant called Mykonos at my request. The food wasn’t quite as good as I remembered it to be, but it was still decent, and I was pleased that we got to have a nice meal together.

Even though my visit home wasn’t perfect, I enjoyed spending time with my family and will cherish these memories during my time abroad. My family is busy with work, so I kept chastising myself whenever I felt ignored. It isn’t fair of me to demand that they drop everything for my sake. I spent a lot of time waiting, and perhaps that’s what I needed, some time by myself to remember why I wanted to go adventuring to Svalbard in the first place. I’m going to miss them all, and am envious and a bit saddened that I’m missing my family’s trip to Italy. They’ll be enjoying delicious food and warm sun without me. But I’m prepared now both with supplies and with the emotional fortitude to live in the Arctic away from everyone and everything I ever knew. 

Being a Drama Llama at the airport

The going away party yesterday was really nice. Seeing all my friends so excited for me help distract me from my imminent departure. I got to spend a few last hours with Freddy, which was wonderful and horrible because watching the clock display the time get closer and closer to noon made me sick with emotions. I stayed up late and woke up early (to Freddy's chagrin) and was holding in tears until the final half hour. I have been accused of being a Drama Llama before,  so it should have surprised no one that I was spouting melodrama as the tears ticked past. I'm at the airport now watching music videos of sad songs. Owl City's "When can I see you again" cheered me up a bit. I'm wearing my winter jacket because I'm cold. Maybe I'll never be warm again...

Listening to: "I feel fine on the outside" by Priscilla Ahn

Goodbye Windy City

Today is the last full day I will spend in Chicago until I return again in January. It's not exactly a sudden realization. I've been slowly packing up my room, throwing things out, cleaning, and preparing for my trip. Last week, I threw out nearly all my plants that I've been growing for a year. I had stopped watering them weeks prior so that I could get over throwing out my precious plants. Getting rid of the dying basil and lily plants was easy. The onion plant was all shriveled up. The potato plant that I had grown from an old potato for a year had produced an adorable little harvest.

So I threw out nearly all my plants. Nearly. I was about to throw out the two succulents I had grown from seed and just couldn't do it. The little plants had survived for over a year, and I had brought them up from seed. So now I'm leaving two plants for my room-mate to take care of.

All official parties have been informed of my leaving. My subletting papers are in order and my bank contacted for a travel note. My room is all packed up, my entire existence here fairly neatly fitting into three boxes. My suitcases are all packed too, with even so extra room for more stuff to be added later.

In the spirit of classic Arctic expedition records, I have compiled an inventory list:

1 winter jacket

1 pair of over-mittens

1 blanket

1 pair of plastic indoor slippers

2 zip-up sweatshirts

1 button up shirt

1 nylon windbreaker

1 polyurethane jacket

1 fleece vest

1 hawaiian print T-shirt

sweatpants

sun-lamp

2 pairs of jeans

swimsuit

swim shirt

3 scarves

fleece pajama pants

leather gloves

fur hat

balaklava

7 long sleeve shirts

2 T-shirts

3 thermal undershirts

3 thermal underpants

4 pairs of socks

spices

electronic chargers

school supplies

thermos

Things I need to add:

compass

ski goggles

more thermal underwear

more socks

new under-gloves
power converters

Am I prepared in other ways? I don't speak much Norwegian, and the few things I've learned I've mostly forgotten. Learning Norwegian fell by the wayside as the summer progressed. Not to say that I've completed many of the other projects I've set up for myself. My comic is barely started, graduate school applications have not been started, and whatever ideas of becoming physically fitter over the summer have evaporated in the heat. Yet I did sieve hundreds of lake samples in the geophysical sciences building, and my "To-Do List for Svalbard" has had most of its items crossed off. The only remaining ones are "Talk to Recommenders", "Learn Norwegian" and "Write In-Case-of-Death Letters." I'm not sure if I'll get around to doing that last item. The more I read about Svalbard and the  UNIS program, the less worried I am about being in mortal danger. Something could of course happen, but there seems to only a few circumstances that I am still worried about.

Emotionally, I'm probably about as prepared as I could be. I've been trying to fill my last weeks in Chicago with fun, friends, and warmth, and I'm definitely looking forward to spending a few days with my family. My final days with my boyfriend Freddy have been a bit melancholic for me, despite having had an incredible time exploring Chicago and spending as much time as I could with him. I've felt myself tearing up at the stupidest provocation. I want every experience in these last days preserved in heightened detail. For the most part, though, I've been dry-eyed and upbeat. Five months isn't the insurmountable time-span that I once thought, and with modern communication, I can keep in contact with everyone in the US everyday. Still, I worry about all the experiences that I will miss out on due to not being here.

The UNIS program's start looms ever closer. I will be one of two Americans in my class and one of four boys in a class of twenty. I must admit I'm very surprised at the gender make-up. It will likely be good, fewer macho-men trying to one-up each other with stupid stunts! Still it's going to be strange to be surrounded by Norwegians, Danes, Swedes, Austrians, and other northern Europeans.

As I take out my final load of laundry and prepare for the going-away party I'm hosting tonight, I'll probably have a million thoughts of exquisite emotional pain, but I'm not regretful.

Listening to: Underwater Love by Smoke City

Into the Unknown: Buying plane tickets and other preparations

A week ago, I received the news that I was accepted to take courses at the University Centre in Svalbard (UNIS) from August to December of this year. It's a long ways off still (82 days), but it seems like it's rushing up soon. There's so much preparation I need to do before going there. Buying winterwear, learning Norwegian, organizing my post-graduation plans, building up my endurance and upper body strength, practicing with a rifle (!?). That's right. Everyone in Svalbard is required to carry a rifle with them at all times to protect against polar bears, which outnumber people on this island to the far north. It's the northernmost place inhabited on Earth. And I'm going there to experience midnight sun, polar night, glaciers, bears, and aurora.

I could not be more excited, but the natural dangers plus all of the things I need to do to prepare for graduate school over the summer rather than in the fall now makes thinking too much about it feel like being at the bottom of the ocean. I've got a long to-do list, I can see the light of the future shimmering from the underside of the waves, but it's a bit hard to breath.

As I have purchased my plane tickets from Newark to Oslo, then Oslo to Longyearbyen, I feel like I can now say that I am going to Svalbard. Stupid Scandinavian Airlines. I feel like they should know that you need to fly through Oslo to get to Longyearbyen.

Some questions that will be answered by the end of this polar adventure:

Will I go crazy in the polar night?
What's it like to see the aurora borealis?
Will I survive going five months without seeing a fresh vegetable?
What's it like to hold a rifle? Heaviest thing, or light, like a child's toy?
Will I be able to shoot a polar bear to death if I need to? Would I hesitate? Or would I channel my animal instincts to fight to save myself and my friends? Will it weigh on my conscious forever? Or will it be another day in Svalbard?
Will I experience one of the many dangers of the Arctic wilderness?
Will I still want to be a polar geologist when I'm done with this adventure?

I love learning about the polar regions, reading about them in both fictional and non-fictional books, and looking at pictures of them. I write stories and draw comics set in these places. I have managed to follow so many arctic and antarctic Twitter accounts, that "Antarctica" is following me.
But I've always tended to be obsessive in my interests. This is the longest I've ever held a single interest, so I don't think it will fade, but only time will tell.


And the final and maybe most important question:
Will I get my graduate school applications in on time?!