Field Station Lunch

When I was in the Yukon, I found myself eating a lot more than I had in college. Working outdoors, I suppose, does make exercise easier. There wasn't a lot of time for breakfast, so I usually just had a bowl of cereal in the morning, but lunch was more substantial. I ended up eating the same thing for lunch more often than not, because it was simple, warm, and filling.

1. Toast 4 bagel halves

2. Fry 3 eggs

3. Put the eggs on the bagels

4. Grate some cheese over everything

5. Top it all off with ketchup

The fourth, eggless bagel half would have some jam or Nutella spread on to be my dessert course.

Head Blanket

One of the habits I picked up in the Yukon was sleeping with a blanket wrapped around my head. It made a lot of sense at the time, since the two main obstacles to sleep were the cold and the light. Most nights, I slept in a sleeping bag inside another sleeping bag, with a small blanket up top so that only my nose and mouth were exposed. On colder nights, I would wear a jacket and a beanie as well, with my head blanket adjusted so that only my nose was open to the elements, nobly sacrificing its comfort for the ability to breathe.

Now that I'm back in the south, I still sleep with a head blanket whenever my ears are anything other than warm. As an added bonus, I get the feeling of fabric over my eyes, which is for some reason oddly comforting. I don't need to be quite as cocooned as I was out in the wild, but I'm happy to still enjoy the coziness of a head blanket.

Dog Experiences

One big difference between Nigerian and American culture which has recently struck me is that while dogs in Nigeria are treated like other domesticated animals, a huge portion of Americans keep dogs for companionship, in some cases to the level of considering them family members. A quick Google search suggests that 44% of American households have a dog.

Now I don't dislike dogs, but for a number of reasons I find it hard to love them. I've experienced several of the less appealing aspects of dogs-- the smell, the noise, and the disruption, and haven't had the positive moments and bonding experiences that clearly make dogs worthwhile for so many people. During my formative years, most of the dogs I came across were guard dogs. While I was in college, dogs weren't in the picture for the most part, aside from therapy dogs during exam weeks.

Working in pest control, I meet several dogs each day, but I'm always a stranger to them, so hearing a bark upon approaching a house usually means things will be more difficult. At about a quarter of the pet-containing households I've visited, dogs have been barking loud enough to make talking with the homeowner impractical, or are constantly attempting escape so that the homeowner can only open the door a crack and has to talk while restraining their pet. Now that I think of it, perhaps this is largely a problem of training.

I'm sure that anyone whose work involves walking up to people's houses has a system to deal with defensive dogs. The advice I was given is to whistle a few times before entering fenced yards to bait out any canine aggression that might be within. It works just about every time, and usually sets off the dogs next door as well.

PPE

I have a longstanding fascination with required PPE (personal protective equipment). To me, each new piece of PPE that I use is a sort of milestone on my quest for a biology career. I used safety glasses in high school, and my first year of college introduced me to nitrile gloves, which I still enjoy wearing when I get the chance. When I got properly started in a research lab, a lab coat became my uniform, which was a real dream come true. I wore a helmet while climbing trees in the Yukon, which was a bit of a departure from the dangers of a lab, but it was nice to add some headgear to my list.

Today, I got my first respirator as part of my pest control job. It's easier to put on and adjust than I expected, though I expect wearing it for long periods of time would get old, especially because with a passive respirator like this one, your lungs have to do the extra work of pulling air through the filters. In any case, I'm very happy to have a new piece of PPE to use. The next step on my path is uncertain, but I suppose a hazmat suit is probably the most likely.

A Friendly Wasp

So there I was, sitting in the forest watching a squirrel territory, as is my wont. It was the height of wasp season, which put me on edge a bit, but fortunately it was also the height of mosquito season, so I was fully kitted out with a head net, gloves, and long socks so that no skin was open to insects. I even had flagging tape wrapped around my ankles to deter the mosquitoes determined enough to bite through my socks.

With this setup, then, I sat entirely protected from the insect menace. It was a pretty good morning, all things considered. I hadn't seen much squirrel activity, but there was a chipmunk that ran by and barked at me, which was fun. The sun was just beginning to warm the woods when I heard a wasp buzzing around.

Of course, I wasn't worried. It just so happened that I was sitting near some plants that the wasp was investigating. After a little bit, the wasp began to investigate me, flying around my head; the buzz was a bit irritating, but wearing a head net provides a remarkable sense of security.

Soon, the wasp began to land on me. This wasn't ideal, but every piece of my clothing was tucked into another piece of clothing, so I still had nothing to worry about. I kept sitting there with the wasp landing on me, feeling very at one with nature.

After another couple minutes, I noticed that I couldn't see or hear the wasp any more. I supposed that it had flown off somewhere. It was then that I felt a little tingle on my stomach. I was wearing at least three layers of clothing, but it was definitely something right up against my skin.

Now, if I had had time to think things out and consult a few friends about what to do when a wasp is under your shirt, I may have acted differently, but in the heat of the moment I decided that the best move would be to act quickly and crush the wasp against myself. This was not the best move. When I hit my stomach, the tingle turned into several sharp jabs as the wasp became enraged but not incapacitated. I rolled over on the ground and lifted my three layers of shirts and sweaters as quickly as I could, but there was nothing on my stomach except a few stinging spots.

There was a second of calm before I felt movement down my leg. In an amazingly fluid motion I jumped up and removed my jeans. The wasp flew from my leg back up under my shirt, prompting a mad flutter on my part, and then it sped out again from under my shirt and flew off into the trees, apparently none the worse for wear.

It may be a long time before I let a wasp land on me again, head net or no.

The Call of Sleep

Sleep and the lack of it are powerful things. On any given night, if I've slept less than 10 hours, I feel strongly upon waking up that staying in bed and sleeping more is a good course of action. Fortunately, the more motivated parts of my mind can convince me to get out of bed on workdays, but I like to enjoy weekend mornings by setting my alarm unnecessarily early and then being able to ignore it when the time comes.

A part of this mentality may have slipped into my regular sleep, and many nights I find myself waking up at 1 or 2 AM and being able to enjoy falling asleep again. There may be more to examine about my sleep habits, but I'm about to fall asleep now and I can't think of anything to say except I'm looking forward to it.

Cashier Reactions

One sort-of-social interaction that I've come to enjoy is the process of taking groceries through a checkout line rather than using self-checkout machines. One reason for this is that I'm not confident in my ability to correctly identify and weigh fruits and vegetables, but in some of the more isolated periods of my life, talking to a cashier has been a nice social jolt without the trouble of engaging in a full conversation.

Cashiers, I hear, have a very monotonous job, and it seems that if they've been in that line of work for any length of time, they've seen enough to not be surprised by any customer purchases. For the most part, I've found this to be true. When I was going through checkout one day with at least a dozen microwave meals, I was worried that the cashier would make a snarky comment or at least non-verbally judge my life situation. I got no such reaction. When I was going through checkout one day with ten or eleven bottles of grape juice (about 5 gallons total), I hoped that the cashier would be interested, or at least raise an eyebrow. No interest was forthcoming. In my quest for a cashier reaction, I should have, of course, observed the old stories and known that the moment would come when it was least looked for.

Today, I was doing pest control in a relatively remote suburb and went to the nearest grocery store for my lunch break. I had, in fact, packed a lunch, but I needed to find a restroom, and a grocery store is as good a place as any. I was on my way out of the store when I thought that it would be rude to use the facilities without buying something, so I looked around for a good snack.

It was by these events that I approached the checkout counter with a single banana. The cashier not only smiled, but laughed; "Just one banana?" I was pretty happy myself, and I got my debit card ready for a transaction that would surely incur more processing fees than the banana was worth. The cashier laughed again when she saw that my total charge was 18 cents. It's difficult to find something cheaper than that at a grocery store--a smaller banana, perhaps, but nothing else comes to mind.

In any case, I have rarely had such a dynamic exchange with a cashier. When she waved goodbye with an "Enjoy your banana," I even remembered to say "Thanks, have a good day" instead of "Thanks, you too." The moral of this story is ambiguous, but I am happy to learn that cashiers are not all impassive.

Bus Stop Encounter

A few months ago, I was waiting for a Megabus that would take me from Indianapolis to Atlanta. It was a hot day, and the bus was late, and most of the people who had been waiting at the stop when I first arrived had left to sit inside until the bus arrived. Just me and a middle-aged lady remained on the roadside.

We started a conversation from our common ground: the weather (a famous staple) and the fact that we were waiting for a bus.The lady talked about times in the past that she had been let down by Megabus and Greyhound. A few months ago, she had planned a bus trip but had missed the bus, and was left with no option but to eat the cost and not go on the trip. She was obviously keen on catching this bus; after all, we were the only two left standing in the sun after forty minutes of waiting.

I kept looking up the road, expecting the Megabus to show up at any moment. There were a lot of city buses going by, and several of them stopped in front of us, but we stood back and kept waiting for the Atlanta-bound bus.

About an hour after the bus had been scheduled to arrive, the lady said, "Look! There's the Megabus!" I looked, and there it was, trundling up the road behind two city buses. I picked up my backpack and turned to get in line at the bus doors. When I looked back to see if my new acquaintance was behind me, I saw that she was stepping onto one of the city buses, carrying her bags with her. I wasn't certain what to think, but surely she would realize the mistake once she showed the city bus driver her ticket or was asked to pay a bus fee. However, in just a few seconds, the doors closed and the city bus drove off, lady and luggage and all.

Is there something I should have done? Perhaps. I don't like the thought of this lady missing another trip because of a moment of confusion, and maybe I could have shouted something, but it was all over so quickly. I also wonder if it's possible that I misinterpreted events, but I can't think how. Maybe one or both of us was addled by the sun. In any case, I wonder what the next few minutes, hours, and days held for that lady. A bus stop encounter was all we had together, but for both of us separately, life goes on.

Wedding Advice

I went to a wedding recently-- as far as I can remember, the first wedding I've ever been to. There was, of course, lots of good food, an impressive amount of photos taken and many fun traditions to learn. The bride and groom got a lot of the same comments and questions through the day:
"How are you feeling?"
"Congratulations!"
"Has it sunk in yet that you're married?"

The groomsmen, who had a much simpler job, heard just one thing:
"Don't lock your knees."
"If you lock your knees while you're standing on stage, you'll probably faint."
"If you lock your knees and faint, you'll ruin the moment for the bride and groom."

It was a lot of pressure, to be sure, but everyone managed to get through the ceremony without collapsing. That probably means good luck or something along those lines.

Bear Encounters

My summer doing research in the Yukon involved a lot of interaction with squirrels, many meetings with chipmunks and hares, and more face time with bears than I expected. It was relatively common to see bears on the side of the road while driving, but viewing a bear from the safety of a vehicle feels somewhat detached; the three bear encounters I had on foot in the woods were a whole other bowl of porridge.

The first bear I met was foraging under a tree near the top of a hill my coworker and I were climbing. It turned to look at us and my mind went blank. I had a vague idea that I was supposed to say "hey bear" or something like that in a low, reassuring tone, but there was just a second of silence and then the bear turned and ran in the other direction. We quickly retreated back the way we had come.

After this first encounter, it was brought to my attention that there was a 40-minute bear safety video that all technicians were supposed to watch before working in the field-- this part of my training had somehow been passed over in the hectic first week I was there. The bear knowledge that I did have came from a children's sticker issued by the parks system:
If You See A Bear,
1. Don't run
2. Slowly back away
3. Go find an adult
The 40-minute video, in general, elaborated on these steps.

The second bear I met was in a particularly thick section of spruce forest where the young trees were close enough together that it was difficult at points to find a way through them. It was early in the morning and I was feeling sleepy until I saw up ahead that two dark pillars--more trees I thought at first--were in fact the two front legs of a bear that was looking at me. I've had underwhelming experiences with caffeine, but I can testify that seeing a bear while you're alone in the forest produces instant alertness. Fortunately, I had received training for every step of the typical bear encounter. I instantly forgot what to do and just stared silently back at the bear. After a second, it turned and ran in the other direction. After another second, I turned and power-walked back through the forest.

This pattern of bears avoiding humans is fortunately very common when the two species meet. I was told that, in general, bears treat humans like they treat other bears, keeping out of each other's personal space to avoid risky and unnecessary conflict. In most cases, the bear is aware of the human from far off and avoids them without the human ever knowing. There are, of course, things you can and shouldn't do that make bears more likely to attack.

My third bear encounter was much more intimate than the first two. I was sitting against a tree, watching a squirrel territory to see if other squirrels would invade and try to steal the home squirrel's food. I had been watching for about an hour when I heard a rustle behind me. I of course assumed that it was a squirrel, and I didn't want to turn around because any sudden movement on my part might frighten it off and keep it from acting naturally. I sat still, then, for a little bit, but I didn't hear any more rustling, so I turned around to see what the squirrel was up to. A large bear was on all fours about ten feet behind me. Since I was sitting on the ground, we were eye-to-eye, and it certainly didn't feel like an advantageous situation for me. The bear and I stared at each other for a few long seconds and then it turned and ran off, and I followed suit.

I feel fortunate both to have had the opportunity to meet bears in the wild and to have gotten through each encounter safely. Along with my other treasured experiences in the Yukon, I remember these three moments of sudden terror and a surging fight-or-flight response. There were, of course, other bear experiences of interest that summer; one afternoon, in fact, a bear got into our camp and broke into a couple of the wooden shacks we slept in. However, being out in the wild with no shelter and coming across a predator much more powerful than an unarmed human has a way of shifting perspectives. Looking back, it's an experience I'm glad to have had, but I would be happy if I never had it again.

Waiting Time

A valuable part of my day-to-day life is waiting time, moments when my only job is to sit or stand quietly and wait for something to happen. In my mind, this is different from not working-- while I have a good amount of time to relax, I'm usually still doing something. Perhaps the possibility of doing something productive makes relaxing time different from waiting time. In any case, waiting time lets me unwind and refocus in a very satisfying way.

In the past few weeks, the only real waiting time I can remember is waiting at crosswalks and sitting in a movie theater before the movie starts. In the past, I have enjoyed waiting times on public transportation and in line at the grocery store, but since I moved to Charleston I haven't needed to use a bus and the checkout lines at all the stores I've been to are too efficient to get much waiting done. Even the last two medical appointments I've gone to have had me in and out of the waiting room as quick as you like.

I remain hopeful, however; new opportunities to wait are around every corner.

Interior Design

One of the surprisingly fun parts of getting my own apartment has been furnishing it. I'm no design expert, of course, but I thought that if I laid out a few guidelines for myself, I could at least put together something that was visually consistent. The theme I settled on was simple, square designs; most stuff is wood and upholstery is blue or grey fabric. My accent color is sunshine yellow. The chair pictured below is the inspiration I had in mind when acquiring furniture.

For aesthetic (and financial) reasons, most of my household items and furniture are the basic model offered by large retailers. All of my video game experience tells me that this is the correct way to furnish a starter apartment, and I can upgrade when I reach the next level.

In some ways, I regret that I can no longer fit my worldly possessions into a suitcase and a backpack, but regular use of the How Would I Feel If Everything In My House Was Consumed By Flame test helps keep things in perspective.

Snow Day

I was happy to find that the current cold in Charleston is out of the ordinary-- today, a morning of freezing rain was followed by an afternoon of snow. In the past 10 years, I've had a few chances to play around in snow, but I think today was the first time in my memory I've gone outside while the snow itself is falling.

Falling snow isn't quite as soft as I expected. My outdoor adventure began well enough, and I enjoyed making a path through fresh snow and seeing the flakes drift around me. I turned to go back after about half an hour, about the same time that the wind started to pick up and the snow began to fall more heavily. I've heard about losing visibility during snowstorms, and while this might not exactly have been a blizzard, I gained a new appreciation for how much snow can get in your eyes. Fortunately, the few cars that were on the road were going slow enough that there was little danger for stumbling pedestrians. Overall, I'm happy to have had a new experience of snow that was mild enough to be balanced by a cup of hot chocolate back at home.

Charleston Winter

Way up north, where the day-stars dance
And the frost hangs crisp in the air
The snow grows deep and the warm things sleep
Underground, under ice cold and fair

In between, cities chug and steam
Under blankets of sleet and snow
Cold cars move through the salt-sown streets
People walk bundled to and fro

Here down south, where the sun shines bright
Neither ice nor snow's taken hold
The streets are clean and the grass is green
But with all that, it's still too cold