I keep thinking back to something a friend told me before I left for Nome: “One perk of spending a year up there,” he said, “is that you’ll probably come back cooler.”
Even then, my hackles rose at the implication that this year is some righteous journey of self-discovery for the volunteers. (Or that I’m not cool already. Ahem.) Believe it or not, we’re not the cast of Girls. But I have to acknowledge that personal growth comes hand-in-hand with the volunteer experience. After all, no one can expect to move to a place this different from home, both culturally and geographically, and not change — at least a little.
And I suppose none of us would have signed up if we didn’t want to change a bit, either.
Building off the “say yes” mantra that’s been instilled in us, I think we’re all hyper-alert for opportunities to better adapt and integrate into our surroundings. But the little changes I’ve been most attuned to lately haven’t, surprisingly, been my own.
Instead, I’m constantly impressed by the small acts of courage displayed by my fellow volunteers. It is, of course, impossible to know what any of our “former lives” were like in the Lower 48 — but after a month or so, I’ve definitely become more aware of what constitutes a small risk for my housemates.
Caitlin, for example, is a former vegetarian. Yet over the weekend, I watched her shove her hands into a bucket of fresh reindeer meat, emerging with a bloody limb that she then processed from start to finish. (She ate the resulting reindeer stew, too.)
Jenn, of course, leaps into everything she does with enthusiasm — but I’ve been most impressed by her humility in learning new skills. (Something that I, a fellow perfectionist, have a much harder time doing.) It’s hard to admit when you don’t know how to do something, or how to do something well. But day after day, I see her do exactly that.
Courtney sprained her ankle on a recent hike to Dorothy Falls — and injury that had her icing her leg and out of commission for the next several days — but trekked along like nothing could be better than another two miles of tundra on the day of our hike. Meanwhile, I’ve listened to Kristin patiently absorb criticism from strangers, only to turn the conversation around and emerge with a new friend.
And me? Well, I’m just trying to live up to the company I keep.
I arrived in Nome expecting the external environment — the harsh winters and ever-present fear of grizzly bears — to supply the biggest changes to my life. But I’ve learned in the past two months that it’s the subtler shifts in attitude that most shape my existence here. And I consider myself fortunate to be surrounded by people who not only welcome changes to their own lives, but inspire a little bit of change in mine.
