Happy New Year from Antarctica! Getting to be one of the first people to experience 2024 is a surreal experience, even if it's really no different to any other midnight. Still, the knowledge makes it an oddity. But it's an oddity that I wasn't allowed to dwell on too deeply, at least at the time. New Year's Eve is always a party, no matter where you are in the world. And for a place that will take any reason to party, it's fair to say that New Year's Eve is probably the biggest party of McMurdo's year.
It's not just a regular old party down at Gallagher's. For New Years, all the stops come out and McMurdo base is home to Ice Stock. Ice Stock is the biggest concert on the continent. (The fact that it's the only concert on the continent has no bearing on that statement.) The space between Building 155 and the Gerbil Gym is set up as a mini festival lot and the Ice Stock stage is built and wired. Along with the stage are two "concessions stands" where hot chocolate, coffee, and some simple grill food is served.
(Can't even tell this isn't in Jersey.)
The music is all volunteer based. We're not so lucky to get Allan Jackson to come down for a set, but we do have the musical stylings of The Steely Dan Experience or Dish Pit. For many who have come down before, Ice Stock is something they've been working toward all year. We've got people who come down, reconnect with buddies and are already practicing together by the first week. Others just want to get in on the action and throw together an ensemble of anyone who might have had piano lessons as a kid. The quality of performance is certainly a spectrum, but everyone is evenly matched on enthusiasm. Because it's not a contest; the fact that our fellow Ice dwellers are willing to get together and cast aside stage fright to perform their hearts out for us is worthy of respect. We're all there to have fun and we couldn't have Ice Stock without them.
(I'd buy any one of their t-shirts.)
The music was almost all covers—all the popular hits that get people pumped up and looking to party. So that means plenty of Taylor Swift, classic rock, club tracks, and the occasional off-kilter addition like Rage Against the Machine. I would say most of the songs were really singalongs, the popular ones that everyone in the mosh pit could scream along to. How much work the actual singers had to do over the crowd is up for debate.
While the star of the show was the music, everyone had plenty of other ways to have fun. Costumes were everywhere, maybe more so than Halloween. It seemed the outfit du jour for New Years was animal pajama onesies. (And wouldn't you know I left mine in my other closet.) We had a fair few penguins, Pokémon, wood land critters, and the significantly lost polar bears in the crowd. Face painting and glitter was also a common sight, as well as some apparently newly established cult that involved sticking a large googly eye to your forehead.
And of course, alcohol was aplenty. While bar service has stopped in most official capacities, as mentioned in a previous article, there was the option to add some Baileys to your coffee or hot chocolate. But the real libations were from those who had stocked up beforehand. Or that day—alcohol rations reset on Sunday, and wouldn't you just know what day New Year's Eve was. The party certainly had its flair for drink. Drinking games were set up, the ring toss and giant Jenga like you might find at any bar, but there were those who didn't need to be told how to have fun. I spent a good ten minutes watching people trying to pour shots from the second-story window into their friends' mouths below. I haven't heard any stories of serious injury, praise the Lord, so hopefully everyone was adult enough to take care of themselves. The only incident I did see was catching a buddy of mine in the hallway, desperately searching for the men's room—the door to which he was standing right next to at the time. It was certainly a jolly time.
The number of people outside swelled after 11 p.m. as we all waited for the clock to strike midnight. Some enterprising soul had taken a clock off of one of the walls and was periodically thrusting it into the air in the middle of the mosh pit (it didn't really help us keep track, but I admire the spirit). As the DJ spun more tracks, the energy of the crowd reach a fever pitch as we waited the last five minutes. One of the organizers was on stage, shouting out each minute closer. Then we counted down the last ten seconds together and rung in the new year in Antarctica. Lots of shouting and cheering, couples marking the occasion, and some who seemingly kept their rations solely to pop the Champaign and spray it over everyone.
So thus began 2024 in Antarctica. No ball to watch and no Frank Sinatra to sing along with, but we met the change in our own way. For those of us not wintering over, New Years marks the last big event and all that's left to look forward to now is our departure dates. Still, to experience the new year at the edge of the world and to band together for a night like that, it's something I'll remember for years to come.
Happy New Year to you all.
No comments:
Post a Comment