Dear prospective volunteers,
I know you’re out there. And I know that at this very minute, you’re thinking about applying — or agreeing — to leave your family and friends behind, to live and work in the Arctic for an entire year.
I also know this is no easy decision; it certainly wasn’t for me.
In fact, there are a handful of things I wish I could go back and tell my year-ago self to smooth the decision making process. Sadly, we haven’t yet developed time machines. (Looking at you, Elon Musk.) But we do have this thing called an “advice column,” which I have shamelessly co-opted for your benefit.
“I wish that I knew what I know now, when I was younger. I wish that I knew what I know now, when I was stronger.” – The Faces, “Ooh La La”
1. Buy muck boots.
You’ll live in them from May to September — and they’ll stand as a reminder of sunnier days to come during the long winter months. Also called “break-up boots,” they’ve become something of a metaphor for the KNOM volunteer experience. The ground isn’t static in the Arctic; it’s constantly freezing and thawing under your feet. So buy a practical pair of shoes and enjoy the ride, slush puddles and all.
2. Nome is small — but not as small as you fear.
3,500 people, you say? That’s like…the size of a public high school in the Lower 48. But, ahem, size really doesn’t matter. At least not as much as you think. For everything that you sacrifice in terms of variety — get used to saying things like “THE coffee shop” and “THE bank” — you gain back in intimacy.
Living in Nome is a lot like living with your family. You don’t get to pick the people around you, nor can you really escape them. But that’s the beauty of the relationships you’ll form here. In close quarters, you get to see the strengths and subtleties in others that you might ignore otherwise. And while Trader Joe’s and Urban Outfitters are great, it’s refreshing to discover that one grocery-slash-video-rental-slash-clothing store is all you really need.
3. The cold and the dark are not what’s going to give you the most trouble.
If you’re anything like me, the hypothetical Alaskan winter translates to endless darkness and 40-below temperatures. And sure, the reality can come close — but winter is actually western Alaska’s best-kept secret. When the temperatures drop and the world freezes over, it also magically opens up. Suddenly you aren’t restricted to three little roads; the entire tundra becomes accessible for snow machines, skis and sled dog teams.
The weather — despite how often I reference it — doesn’t dictate your life here. It influences it, and provides fresh opportunities with every season, but the real challenges of your volunteer year will come from within. You can keep busy in Nome during any season. In fact, protecting your down time may become more difficult than finding new hobbies. But the lack of distractions and Lower 48-style variety will also create space in your life — space to think, to form relationships, and then to think some more. So prepare yourself for the silence and the void, too.
4. When people suggest that you change your cell service provider — do it.
This goes for most advice that well-meaning Nomeites offer you, both before and during your volunteer year. To paraphrase something a friend told me when I first arrived: “We don’t say it to hurt your feelings — we say it to make you better.”
It’s inevitable that you’ll receive some kind of criticism over the course of one year; do your best to receive it in a constructive way. Whether it’s as simple as switching your cell phone plan, or as sensitive as a lesson in cultural awareness, try to be open to the possibility that you don’t always know best.
“Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts, and recycling it for more than it’s worth.” – Baz Luhrmann
5. Chart your own course.
While being open to criticism is hugely important, do take advice with a grain of salt — even, and perhaps especially, the advice you receive from your volunteer predecessors. While the annual (or bi-annual) changing of the guard involves loss to some extent, it also represents one of KNOM’s greatest strengths: You. The ideas and solutions that you will develop in your stay here — whether for a year or a decade — help to make us better in ways we can’t yet imagine.
That’s what you bring to the table, and what (hopefully) inspires you to chart a course North in the first place. And though you’ll be filling our shoes someday soon, know that stepping into your new role at KNOM is much like stepping into the communal bunny boots we leave behind — you’ll get a fit that’s “close enough,” and plenty of room to wiggle your toes.
