small talk

On weather:

 

I’ve described the fierce and marvelous sky, and the wonder of endless sunlight that bathes this euro-postcard city…but only for two months out of the year, if you’re lucky.  ‘Jonines’, or the summer solstice, is a pagan festival that celebrates the earth’s nearest proximity to the sun.  It is a gradual process by which the days get unnaturally (for me, being from northeast coast of USA) long, sunlight shining past 10pm, as the climate becomes warmer and drier every day sending the natives into a frenzy of tank tops and outdoor dining. 

 

For the rest of the 10 or so months of the year this country is freezing, grey, wet and dark…dark for almost entire days, building to a gradual vacuum of light revolving around the winter solstice.  I do not long to experience this part of the year.  I get plenty shivers just hearing about it. 

 

I cannot tell you just how cold it gets, but I hear its pretty damn cold.  I can tell you that it does get downright gorgeous here around the summer solstice.  Last time I was here, in late May, we had a wave of unseasonably warm weather – low 80’s and not a drop of condensation.  While this is supposed to be characteristic of late June through July we have only had a few precious days like this so far.  When the sun is loosed upon us, it is delicious.  When the rain clouds return, it is maddening.  At times the rain will go on for days without a break, and that can really get in the way of getting your summer on.  The rain here is always cold and always damp.  After a few days of it one may develop mold on her scalp.

 

On tourism:

 

The last time I was here in May of 2007 I felt like an adventurous American exploring a city less traveled.  I commented on the local fashion trends with condescending humor, because let’s be honest – they weren’t ‘Betsy Johnson’ colorful, they were ‘Telemundo’ colorful.  Now I find that the natives have added some very important elements to their wardrobe, like the low-rise skinny jean, the designer hoodie and the hipster haircut.  Vilnius is looking more like Brooklyn than Eastern Europe! 

 

This time I am not here alone representing the States.  Amongst the wide range of languages I hear people speaking on the streets, shopping bags on their arms filled with the booty of a long, beer-filled day of dropping exchanged cash, I hear something that rustles the cilia of my inner ear like a lusty breath – Americanus!  Everywhere I turn, American English dots my aural landscape like dandelions. Can it be that an influx of American tourism is helping to usher this young democracy, a teenager nation, into cultural hyperdrive?

 

I wonder this, then walk past a folk dancing group that meets in the same church courtyard every Thursday.  I see young kids in metal band t-shirts dancing with well-dressed ladies, young families and older residents, all exchanging arms and swinging around in ancient dance rituals to the folky harmonium music being played.  And I realize that no amount of tourist residue can make these people forget what they have struggled for centuries to keep alive.  We don’t really have anything like this back home.  I like what I see here.

 

And check this out:

 

 

Every evening between the hours of 9pm and 11pm the sky becomes a masterpiece of bouncing light and colors.  It is breathtaking, and no photo can capture every detail of the hypnotizing swirls of pink clouds blanketing the sky.  No camera lens can reflect the delicate balance of grey and pink illumination of the space around you.  This can only exist in the moment you experience it.  Between the hours of 9pm and 11pm Vilnius is saturated in beautiful twilight, and I absolutely love being in it.