Waiting for the Antarctic blast.

Nobody likes a head cold. I've got one. I've been coughing all weekend and it doesn't seem to be letting up. I get one of these rounds every year and it usually lasts 2 weeks and means no sleep. Grrr. Anyway, it's lucky that I'm such a night owl I can exist on minimal sleep for a couple of weeks and crash after that.

So, today I decided that we would stay home and keep warm because the last thing I need at the moment is icy wind. And that's what we've got in Christchurch today. And it is certainly icy.

I could feel it in the air last night, the cold, southerly blast, sweeping in from Antarctica and settling down right on little NZ. At the moment the weather says it is 6.4C, with windchill 'feels like' 1C. It's supposed to be sleety snow showers this afternoon (I bet it comes just in time for school pick up, with my kind of luck). However, on days when I don't have to go out in it, I do quite enjoy an Antarctic blast. I love the snow and the cold and the options for staying inside and staying warm. I think I will be roasting lamb tonight ....mmm.

I noticed this morning that we can actually see a tiny fraction of the snowy southern alps in between two neighbouring rooftops out the boys' bedroom window. Very exciting! It's hardly mountain views, but it's my little piece of snowy splendour. I can look at snow covered mountains all day. Seriously. I know this is the fourth winter I've lived here now, but I'm still not tired of it yet.

But this week I find myself pondering a real Antarctic blast. Over the weekend, while attempting some recovery time, I read Endurance, by Alfred Lansing. It's the story of Ernest Shakleton's attempt to be the first to traverse the continent of Antarctica overland and through the south pole, after missing out on the glory of being the first man to reach the pole by 180km - in 1907. (A record that was won by Roald Amundsen in 1911). The expedition failed spectacularly. They never even made it to the continent and were ice-locked in the Wedell Sea, just off the coast for months. However, quite quickly the story changed from being a daring feat of exploration to a daring tale of survival, as Shakleton tried to negotiate his way out of Antarctica and keep his team of 28 alive in the process - after their ship was crushed to pieces by the thawing ice. 

I won't give away the rest (although you can find it out on Wikipedia if you really want to!) but I highly recommend it, a gripping read and I finished it in a day because I just couldn't put it down. I didn't know the outcome when I started it and so it kept me guessing all the way. I think one of the things that surprised me, even though I have read quite a lot of 'survival' stories in my time, is the capacity of human beings to endure. The odds were well and truly stacked against them at every turn. These men existed on meagre supplies, in sub-zero conditions, with little shelter from Antarctic storms other than a few tents and, at points, even without the tents! And remember, this was 100 years ago. It was long before they had access to high tech, light weight survival gear. Retailers like Kathmandu and Macpac certainly didn't exist. Some of them journeyed with no personal effects other than the clothes on their back, a single sleeping bag, a pocket knife and a bible. At one point, even the Bible had to go and a few precious pages were torn out and kept. They were beset by all manner of illness. Heart conditions, gangrene, extreme dehydration, hypothermia, sciatica, frostbite, chronic infections and blisters (such that the liquid inside them FROZE! Ewww!). I'm not sure what drives people to survive under such conditions? It is easy, when you are bitterly cold and exhausted to lie down and sleep....forever. What was it that caused them to wake up the next day and face the pain and the agony and endure some more? Is it just the sheer, stubborn will for survival? Fighting spirit? Rugged determination? Maybe it is that same spirit that filled their friends and neighbours back at home. While the expedition struggled on, England was at war with Germany. The expedition literally left as the war was declared in 1914. And we know from our history books, only too well, what trench warfare involved. You wouldn't wish that on your worst enemy. 

As I ponder our Antarctic blast, blowing in from the south, I'm snuggled up inside. I'm in a warm house with plenty of good, nourishing food. I have a warm and comfortable place to sleep tonight. My biggest worry is a nagging cough and a chilly 20 minute school pick up. I wonder if I would have survived in Shakleton's Antarctic expedition? I very much doubt I would have survived more than a couple of days in the trenches. I'm not sure that our generation really knows how good we've got it. Although the thing that concerns me tonight is that there ARE people out there, in our city, in our country who do not have a warm place to sleep. They don't have food or friendship or shelter. Maybe the only thing driving them on through this Antarctic blast is that same will and determination to survive another night. I'm sure there are people in every city in the world in these situations, constantly. Many of them are children. Tonight my prayers are with them and I will hold my children just that little bit tighter. 

What else can we do? Why not contact your local city mission? Donations don't always have to be monetary, although that helps too. Recently the Australian Assylum Seeker Resource Centre conducted a winter coat donation drive. I'm sure there are other things we could think of if we put our collective minds to it. And maybe while my roast lamb is cooking, I really can 'afford' to spare a bit of extra cash to see that someone else is also well fed tonight. 

3.55pm update. True to form, the sleet started at PRECISELY 2.55pm as I was reversing out of my driveway for the school pickup. Of course it did :)

This is what we are up to about one hour later. It will be interesting to see if it continues overnight or if this is the end of it!