I’ve written in the past about the differences I see with seasons while living in the Southern Hemisphere. It’s no secret that I hate the winter and thus had no issues leaving it behind for the last year and, oh let’s say 10 months. I left the United States in August, 2008, arriving to Ecuador where it’s permanent fall/spring in the sierras, returned briefly to the U.S. in August, 2009, and then moved to Argentina where spring was just beginning. Now the record is crumbling away with today, June 21st, bringing the first official day of winter. Damn it.
There were only a few brief occasions throughout the last year and 10 months when I missed the winter. There’s always that first novel snowfall, when everything is coated white and beautiful before road dirt turns it to disgusting slush and brown drudge. And I will always admit that the change in seasons really makes you appreciate the better weather more. So I can’t say that it’s all bad, but here in Argentina, it’s a different beast.
Argentina rarely experiences snowfall, which is fine with me. Yet I still like that first week or two with the powder, putting a certain chill in the air that reminds you of the struggling months to come. Here, it’s simply getting colder, though it might never dip far below freezing. I won’t have to worry about black ice or snow banks, jammed doors or serious delays in getting to work because of blizzards. Yet bundling up will still be necessary, and the desire to go out and do things during the weekend will drop to a serious low. Shorter days means waking up in darkness and leaving the office the same way. It’s just depressing anyway you look at it.
At least with a bit of snow you can have a snowball fight or take advantage of skiing if you know how (I don’t). Maybe one day I can head down to Luna Park for some ice skating, though it’s been year since I tried and really only went a handful of times at that. I was able to relish my summertime fun while everyone back home was complaining about blizzards and freezing. Though I did so without gloating, karma has now bit me in the ass. I have to look on Facebook and see every friend excited about the beach, barbecues, and everything else that makes summer so nice. This day used to be so important for me, and now I see it as a building block. Tomorrow morning the sun will rise a few seconds earlier, and the next day, and the next day after that. That’s all I can think of now, at least aware that there won’t be an equivalent to February in Boston.
Simultaneously, today is 10 months since I left for Argentina. A generation of babies have already been born and figuring out the world since I’ve been here. That mark always humbles me. I’ve been here longer than them, but you know how it is. They’re more Argentinian than me. Tomorrow Argentina plays Greece at 3:30 pm, and the entire city, country that is, will take a long lunch with the boss’ OK. Gotta love the World Cup.