Midwest winters became ingrained into my identity; as a child I would eat snow that collected on the wool of my mittens. Snow soothes me. The cold refreshes me. So when placed for Peace Corps in Africa I considered myself lucky to have a country far enough away from the equator. Still,there will be no snow in Zambia (well, maybe in the mountains).
That is what originally led me to the title of my blog and, I think, makes for an interesting story. How does a polar bear, an animal for all intents and purposes adapted to the tundra, survive in Africa? Considering this juxtaposition led me to other similarities between myself and the Arctic bear. I do not do terribly well in the heat. My hair tends to be a barometer for the humidity frizzing into a large halo. I will admit it, I put on some weight living in New Orleans over the past year (culprits:fried catfish and grits) and then finding out I will be in Africa for the next two years (this won’t be there, so into the mouth). Probably the most obvious comparison is also something that I consider to be part of my identity: my stark whiteness. I am pale- a yeast even! I have always been and always will be. The running joke in my family is that if I went jogging at night wearing shorts I would not need to wear reflective clothing. The only thing about the bear that I don’t identify with is, thankfully, the hairiness.
So, what’s a polar bear to do? This is my tale: the adventures of one polar bear learning to survive, thrive and hopefully love her time in Africa.
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