Sun, Sand, Surf

It’s Friday afternoon at 5:30. It’s Memorial Day weekend back home, the official first weekend of summer.

My head has gone to the beach. Or perhaps my heart has gone to the beach. I’ve been living by the sea since mid-April, so it’s not as though the beach is something I’ve been missing. No, the beach is right out the French doors. I can hear the tide coming in…it’s a little bit wilder than usual, perhaps the result of the full moon last night.

I think it’s my heart more than my head that’s wrapped up in this Memorial Day. This is the much anticipated weekend that stay-in-the-city New Yorkers so anticipate because they get a break from the I-have-a-summer-share New Yorkers who go away, who leave us empty seats in movie theaters, empty tables in restaurants, empty park benches, shorter lines, quieter streets, parking spots and a generally nicer city.

In New York, people are making plans for picnics, getting together, taking it easy. And in less urban areas, they’re picking peonies to put on graves and planning to gather around the grill on the deck. It’s an important weekend because it means that we all survived work through the long stretch from mid-February to the end of May when there are no holidays. And now, we get Memorial Day, Independence Day, Labor Day, and if we’re really lucky, Columbus Day in October and Veteran’s Day in November before Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s.

That stretch from February to May is tough.

Just as a scent or sound can trigger memories, significant dates can do the same. Memorial Day does it for me…it’s when I ritualistically start tanning, eating watermelon, drinking iced coffee, anticipating fresh corn and tomatoes from the New Jersey farms, and spending lots of evenings outside with no-name music groups that are playing free concerts.

This year will be a little different. I already have a tan. Watermelon is available, but not for much longer because it grows during the rainy season which starts next month. Iced beverages are….well, there’s no ice. Tomatoes are imported. Corn is not grown here because there’s not enough water and then there’s too much. Culture of the sort I like is a little hard to come by. But we do have a holiday to celebrate…several, in fact. Sunday is Fete de la Maman (Mother’s Day), which is always celebrated on May 30 in European countries. (Shhh...Senegal doesn't know it's not French.) It is also Mami’s birthday! And to add to the fun, Paul's niece is being confirmed. Our usual Sunday gathering will be triple the fun this weekend!

On Sunday, Mami will be tied to her chair so that she isn't working. We will eat fish, prepared in one of the endless varieties of ways that it is eaten here in Senegal, and I’ll be fantasizing about...hot dogs and corn on the cob at Coney Island.