"Hey, where did my socks go?"

Departure day. You might expect this to be the day when the crew is the most closely bonded, but in my experience the opposite is true. While we pack up and prepare to leave MDRS, we disconnect and start to refocus on what awaits us once we are back home again. Things get a little crazy and whether we depart as a group or individually, we start to function not as a unit, but independently.

It's interesting. During the rotation, you go out of your way to help your crewmates. Help is almost universally accepted. On departure day, this all changes. Everyone carries their own bags, backpacks, boxes and pillows out to the cars, in stark contrast to the arrival, when everyone's bags are everyone's business. Offers of help are politely rejected. Even cleaning becomes a chore of singular focus and we do our part in isolation from the rest of the crew, talking only when we take a rest from our work.

I don't know why this happens, but I find it fascinating. It has happened on every one of my rotations. That's not to say that there aren't hugs all around when we go our separate ways, or that we don't promise that we will keep in touch or see each other at the convention in August or visit each other soon. It's just that we have become Earthlings again.