Summer Picnics

 

What best captured summer for you as a child?

The way I dislike the intense summer heat and humidity now, how I try to avoid it, seek and huddle in the shady spots, you would think I am not accustomed to experiencing heat. And yet, I grew up in the intense heat of the Middle East, the early years without an air-conditioner in our apartment.

Summers were hot and carefree; the highlights were the picnics. How excited we were when our parents announced there was going to be a picnic and much preparation followed. It was a big event, several families involved, a school bus rented to take everyone to the picnic spot (also rented) – which was always a pool (Capitol Pool being the one we frequented most), set in the grounds of a shady garden. Although we lived on an island, we never picnicked at the beach or swam in the sea. All that expanse of shadeless sand, some beaches restricted. No, for us, picnics were always at a pool.

Picnic Day was a full day, setting off by mid-morning, returning late in the evening, after dark. There was lots of food involved (various types of sandwiches, samosas, pakoras, baked spicy chicken, watermelon, slices of cake), with families sharing and dipping into each other’s food. On the way to the grounds, the bus stopped at the ice factory to pick up a block of ice which the dads then chipped and loaded into coolers to keep their beer cold.

Despite the blazing sun and heat, we were never slathered in sunscreen (had never heard of it), never wore hats. Not a single personal water bottle (ubiquitous these days) in sight. I don’t even remember drinking much water. Pepsi and Fanta were a treat for us, not an everyday thing, but picnic fare. The kids swam all day and jumped in and out of the pool; games were played; one of our neighbours taught us to swim, placing her hands under our bellies while we kicked our legs and thrashed our arms, suddenly realizing she had removed her hands, and we were swimming on our own. No organized lessons, on anything, it was all learning through play.

We returned home late at night, the return journey always accompanied by lots of singing on the bus (Ten Green Bottles; Old MacDonald…), the kids tired and sleepy but determined to stay awake and yell out the lyrics. Once home, quick baths before bed.

When I think about this now, I realize how much work our parents must have put into this day, the food preparations before, the packing of everything (food, drink, clothes, towels, pool floats, paper plates, utensils), keeping an eye on the kids, then the unpacking, the clean-up. But I don’t recall my parents saying these picnics were a lot of work. Everyone, adults and children alike, looked forward to the day and seemed to enjoy it immensely.

It was a day of simple fun, the intense summer heat made bearable by a shady garden, a cool pool, laughter, snacks, and games. The adults never cautioned us about being in the sun too long, getting dehydrated or sun burnt (we never did). No one was allergic to anything, no one was on any kind of special diet. It was an easy-going, carefree, free-for-all kind of summer day, and if there were any stresses or tensions amongst the adults below the surface (because surely there must have been?), the kids were oblivious to it.

The tradition of these community/family summer picnics continue today, although now they’re once a year, at a park. And other than attending the extended family annual picnic, I decline all others because who wants to hang around in the heat all day at a park? Today’s picnics are vastly different from the ones I remember from my childhood. And of course, that is not only because the venue, country, people, food, weather are different, but because I am too. 

Summer picnics are never as highly anticipated or delightful as when seen through the eyes of a child.