I find myself once more sat in a wooden mountain hut, several thousand metres above sea level, with the calls of Marmottes battling against the incessant jingle of cow bells. The windows in front of me are rattling in the breeze, and I feel I’m in some bizarre Western-cum-Heidi extravangza, with the senses overwhelmed by the gentile and settled environment going about its daily business. This stands in stark contrast to my own mind which feels like it is tearing around the mountains like some daredevil BASE jumper, cahooning between gullies and trees, and generally behaving in a questionnable manner.
But enough of the hyperbole. It is (/was, for this post has taken a while to finish), the last day of August, which means the Summer season is nearly over in every sense – not only are the nights drawing in and the trees growing ever more rouge, but the Summer Short Term Staff of 2016 will be leaving imminently. The staff structure at KISC is such that every 3 months a new set of staff arrive to run the centre and be the busy hands on the ground – this is in contrast to the Long Term Staff, who stay for anything between 4 months and 3 years. Now that Summer is over however, the bedrooms are being emptied and deep-cleaned, tearful good byes are being said, and we all move on.
Apart from you don’t just move on.
A place like KISC sticks with you, for better or for worse. Here you see the pure capacity of humans for love, for working together with a common goal. You meet ridiculous people, people kinder than you thought possible, people with a love of life so strong you can’t help but be swept along with its all encompassing passion and intensity. And of course, you can’t work with each other, eat socialise and celebrate with each other, without falling in love with each other. There is a expression #KISCisLove, and it is true on many levels – take a University freshers hall of residence, take away the alcohol (OK, well maybe leave a bit of it…), but times 10 for the goodness in the people there, and you can start to understand the febrile mood in the air most of the time. You meet people, you have an incredible time with them, and then you depart to different regions, different countries, different continents. Such is the way of KISC – never should you hold yourself back for the fear of losing.
As I reflect upon the Summer season and my time at KISC this year, I can’t help but delve deeper into the past; I had several friends visit me during August, each representing a different friendship group and a different stage of my life. Two University friends visited, and reminded me of my formatory life in Durham, and how it was living together with friends for the first time, seeing how close friendships and relationships can come and go. I then also had a friend visit from my time working at IBM, and was reminded that it has been over a year and a half since I started my sabbatical – with herself coming towards the end of her own sabbatical, she was looking at what the future might hold for her. Having trekked across South America and also completed the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage, she was struggling to find a more fulfiling career that aligned with her own interests. While she has now found a new job that moves her in the direction she wants to travel, it was a stark reminder to me of “the real world” that exists outside the KISC bubble, and the challenges that I will face when the time comes to leave this Swiss paradise.
However, that time is not just yet. For the past 5 months, I have been the High Adventure Assistant at KISC – this has meant I’ve been responsible for the hiking, climbing, and general adventurous aspects of the Programme at the centre (including mad things like ice climbing, crevasse rescuing and general gallivanting about on glaciers). It has been a steep learning curve, with many hours spent practising safe climbing techniques, researching the best equipment to have, and running rope through my hand (steady now). While undoubtedly a different experience from the first season as Short Term Staff, it has been an unforgettable time – new faces but the same incredible feeling. The opportunity then came up to apply for other, more senior positions – both the Programme Director and their Assistant position came open for the new year. The Assistant position was a 1 year position, whilst the Director role was 3 years – and this weighed heavily on my mind when I was doing the applications. As a member of the Senior Management Team, the Director position would be intense, involved, and a huge life changing decision. I applied for both, but was surprised when I found that I was perfectly content and indeed happy to receive the Assistant position. As a deeply competitive person, I normally think that when people talk about how they are happy they didn’t get a job they are performing an act of self delusion, as some sort of defence mechanism – but I now think I understand this feeling. There may be a small element of this to my own response (no one likes to think they aren’t good enough for something they at least partially want), but I think the team picked for the coming year is a fantastic one, and one I genuinely can’t wait to work with.
Now, lets fast forward a few weeks from my jaunt in that mountain hut. I won the Great Ueschinenhüutte Mountain Race 2016 against a stellar crew of opponents (forgive me for my competitiveness), and said bye to some very close friends at the end of the season. I write this piece travelling, as ever; this time I am on a 8 hour coach taking me back from Rome to Milan, where there a 4 hour train journey awaits to take me back to Kandersteg. The past few days have been a whirlwind of new sights, beautiful people and stunning locations. 4 of us went on a jaunt to Milan to watch The Tallest Man on Earth. Having never heard of this guy before, I decided to risk it and go along anyway, and whilst the music wasn’t my cup of tea it was a cool venue and night out around the canals of Milan afterwards. The next day we experienced the delights of tight Catholic security as the brave Italian soldiers refused access to the clearly terrifying Salla and her many vicious bottles of perfumes and shampoos into the imposing Duomo cathedral – but I will grant the elegance and intricacy of this 14th century masterpiece. Later that day Salla and Dylan retreated back to Kandersteg, but Hannah and I decided to have one last blow out and booked ourselves onto a sleeper train to Rome. Our utter immersion into Scouting proved useful when we firstly replaced the broken curtain on the windows to our carriage with one of our micropore towels, and then used a mobile charging cable with a couple of half hitches to lock our door, ensuring we actually got a few hours sleep. Arriving early on the Sunday we dropped our bags off at a delightful little hostel and headed straight to the Vatican City. Whilst the Vatican museums, which contain the Sistine Chapel, Raphael collection and other various classical masterpieces, were shut, we were able to see the big man himself give a speech to the adoring crowd in St Peter’s Square. Whilst I am not Catholic myself it was a remarkable occasion to be part of, knowing that you were surrounded by thousands of people who had travelled from around the world to be there, and who truly believed they were hearing the words of God. Also whilst I don’t speak Italian, the tit-bits that Hannah was translating for me made this Pope sound pretty ok (as they go).
The whistle stop tour of Rome continued via St. Peters Basilica, before we wandered across town and reached the remarkable 2,000 year old Pantheon. Although the hi-jinks of the previous week were starting to catch up with us (a small nap on the pews inside the Pantheon may have occurred), we plowed on and also saw the famous Colosseum before returning home. A thunderstorm could not dampen the feeling of fun and adventure that happens when you are travelling with someone you really connect with, and it was difficult the next day saying yet another goodbye to someone who I’d close to over the past few months. This specific aspect of travelling and seasonal work like KISC that is emotionally hard to deal with – saying bye and moving on; the risk of becoming numb to this is one which you must hard to avoid.
For now, it is back to the UK, back to family and friends and a heck of a lot of catching up to be done. Already I have had my first cuddle with my beautiful new niece, and I shall soon be heading to my other siblings to play the daft uncle with them too. Then friends have beckoned me to London and Sweden, before I head across to Greece and volunteer with the foodKind charity for a couple of weeks. I’ll try to post something about why I’m heading out there before I leave, but for now, Prid out.
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