A celebration of summer and a mourning of the lack of it
Two more weeks. Two more weeks and I am done with my current employment at summer camp. I have already been here a month and half. Some kids have been nice or fun, but most have just been an add bit of stress to my life. But really, it isn't so much the kids as the environment. You are with the kids from dawn till dusk, literally. And dusk does not come soon in a Spanish summer.
In some ways I feel that the summer has been stolen from me this year. I still have the student`s concept of summer: Long idle days, drenched in heat and sunlight and water, passed with friends by the pool, in the TV room, in parks and cafes. The warm nights spent awake, talking with friends as we swat away mosquitoes. Waking up late with nothing to do. Waking up early and sweating as the sun turns the side of the house into a brick oven. The morning rummage through empty pizza boxes to find the breakfast slice, the munch of stale popcorn on the way to the shower or pool (the are the interchangeable in these months).
But no. This summer is constant work, no respite, and very few friends. I don't have any late night, starlit conversations on the porch or by the pool. The power of the seasonal warm nights is lost while I am in the boys dorm putting them to bed. The nostalgic romance or August is droned out by the camp counselors complaints (some of which are my own).
Ive had a lot of bad summers in my day. Ive had bad working conditions and have spent those hot months alone, but even those summers had some good things, exciting locales, new kinds of work, new lasting friendships, or at the very least decent working hours with time to relax and enjoy the rest of the day.
This summer has been very dull, with only a few glimmers of fun, mostly involving people. I was able to spend two weeks working with David Perez (a high school friend) and a whole month with his brother Daniel. I have been able to get to reacquaint myself with Burgos and my friends here, especially Aitor and Loida.
The one thing that saves me from despairing about it is the knowledge that I will be going to Boston not long after this is done. But even then, it will be September and the real essence of summer will be diluted into the approaching fall. A beautiful season, but a different one from the one I seem to long for these days.
Of course, the good thing about seasons is that they are cyclical, and this one may be wasted, but there is always next year.
In some ways I feel that the summer has been stolen from me this year. I still have the student`s concept of summer: Long idle days, drenched in heat and sunlight and water, passed with friends by the pool, in the TV room, in parks and cafes. The warm nights spent awake, talking with friends as we swat away mosquitoes. Waking up late with nothing to do. Waking up early and sweating as the sun turns the side of the house into a brick oven. The morning rummage through empty pizza boxes to find the breakfast slice, the munch of stale popcorn on the way to the shower or pool (the are the interchangeable in these months).
But no. This summer is constant work, no respite, and very few friends. I don't have any late night, starlit conversations on the porch or by the pool. The power of the seasonal warm nights is lost while I am in the boys dorm putting them to bed. The nostalgic romance or August is droned out by the camp counselors complaints (some of which are my own).
Ive had a lot of bad summers in my day. Ive had bad working conditions and have spent those hot months alone, but even those summers had some good things, exciting locales, new kinds of work, new lasting friendships, or at the very least decent working hours with time to relax and enjoy the rest of the day.
This summer has been very dull, with only a few glimmers of fun, mostly involving people. I was able to spend two weeks working with David Perez (a high school friend) and a whole month with his brother Daniel. I have been able to get to reacquaint myself with Burgos and my friends here, especially Aitor and Loida.
The one thing that saves me from despairing about it is the knowledge that I will be going to Boston not long after this is done. But even then, it will be September and the real essence of summer will be diluted into the approaching fall. A beautiful season, but a different one from the one I seem to long for these days.
Of course, the good thing about seasons is that they are cyclical, and this one may be wasted, but there is always next year.
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