A few months ago, my aunt sent me an article from the Chicago Tribune titled “Don’t Miss Short, Sweet Summer.” The author, Mary Schmich, called readers to action asserting, “Today is the first day of the rest of your summer.” This hit home as I soaked in the 80+ degree weather of that sunny June Day. I recently rediscovered the article and found that it seemed to resonate even more as I sat blasting Christmas music on a hot December day.
According to Kozelka family tradition, Christmas season officially starts the day after Thanksgiving, or more specifically, Thanksgiving night when we all pile into the living room and turn on Chevy Chase’s Christmas Vacation. However, despite the date, this Christmas season seems to be coming late. It may stem from the 90 degree weather or the fact that I am halfway around the world from home, but honestly, it does not feel like Christmas, no matter how many times I watch Home Alone or how loudly I blast Michael Buble's Christmas album.
So what does December feel like in Southern Thailand?
Summer.
For the past eleven months, I have been in what feels like a perpetual state of summer. No changing leaves, no snow, no spring, just endless, lush green. Coming from someone who refused to allow her family to say the “s-word” (school) as the end of summer approached, I have no complaints about this perpetual summer. Summertime brings back memories of water balloon fights, root beer floats, trips to the beach, movies at the drive-in, sun kissed** skin and endless time spent with friends and family. Summer is the one time of year when you can finally pick up that book that you’ve been meaning to read or take a nap in the middle of the day. When you’re given hours of extra daylight to grill hot dogs, watch baseball and eat blueberries until your hands turn blue.
Summer is made for doing those things that you want to do, rather than those things you have to do.
So with that said, I designate these twenty-seven months in Thailand my extended summer. Two years spent under the Thai sun, learning from new experiences and mistakes, eating way too many coconut milkshakes and reminding myself not to take life too seriously.
Now in some ways this may seem naive, part of the magic of summer comes from its temporality. Our daily responsibilities would inevitably rob a two-year summer of it’s slow, easy pace, despite my ten year-old self’s protests. However, because Thailand already has the weather portion of summer covered, all I need to focus on is the mind-set. The various once-in-a-lifetime opportunities available to a Peace Corps Volunteer are reminiscent of summer’s fleeting possibilities. When, besides summer, can you run barefoot down the blacktop as you chase down the ice cream truck or lose all sense of time as you sit around a bonfire with friends? Similarly, when, except during your Peace Corps Service, will you be stopped multiple times during your bike ride home to be given bundles of fresh bananas, papaya and coconut or laugh until your belly hurts as you attempt to imitate your Thai tutor’s tonal language?
As Mary Schmich claimed in her Summer Manifesto, “Life is short. Summer is shorter.” Or in my case, “Life is Short. Peace Corps is shorter.” I have been here for almost an entire year now, which means I only have fifteen months left! Fifteen months to explore Thailand and the surrounding countries. Fifteen months to learn how to write more than just my name in Thai. Fifteen months of over the top Christmas and Valentine’s Day parties with my students, swimming in the Andaman sea, and piles of fresh mangoes to be shared with my host brothers. Fifteen months to put down my phone and be present with my students, my host family and my fellow volunteers. Fifteen more months to take full advantage of this amazing opportunity I have been given.
As this year comes to a close, I am forever thankful for the memories I have made so far and look forward to the many new memories that I will make this summer. HAGS.
**fried
