How a Northerner Learns to Survive Southern Summers
Hey you,
I love summer in Michigan. It was wonderful. Days by the lake, soft breezes, gorgeous greens and flowers. It had one problem: it never lasted long enough.
This is in stark contrast to my current abode where summer doesn’t know when to quit. What was I thinking, moving to North Carolina? Back in Michigan as a teenager, I would actually come close to fainting if I had to be outside on hotter days.
Oh for Pete’s sake.
A few years ago I got to the end of July feeling like the whole world was a howling wilderness, with me a glob of misery, and realized that I have felt that way near the end of July for the past several summers. After a bit of reflective thinking the pattern began to emerge. It always happened after the weather had been hot for about 2-3 months and my Michigan blood was saying, “ok, time for fall now.”
Only, autumn was still another three months out.
Each year since then I’ve tried to hit creative solutions for combating my inability to deal with the hot weather and the effect it has on my body.
I started layering up these solutions like linen upon linen to see if I can’t fix myself.
Defy it. At the beginning of summer I decide that hot weather is not going to keep me from doing the things I want to do. Running in 90 degree heat? Check. Going to a coffee shop and sitting on the sidewalk. Check. Of course, this isn’t a bid to be deliberately miserable because if it’s just too hot I switch to a morning run when it’s still just 80, or sit in the shade at the coffee shop. But the hot weather will not keep me from doing things. This works with variable results.
Ignore it. Hot, what do you mean hot? You ain’t seen hot yet, bubba! The other day I was chatting with my Spanish teacher from Guatemala and he was saying it was just so hot there, so I — knowing they live in a mountainous area and unable to resist, asked for the temperature. It was near 78F, and our thermometer was closer to 94. Incidentally, I think he lives in one of the places in the world with near-perfect temperatures, so even if my climate requires more adaptability, he still wins. BUT. I try not to play this comparison game most days. Better to ignore other climates and my own thermometer and just live.
Put away all jeans. I learned this one pretty quick when I tried to take a walk in jeans my first summer here. I came home and promptly put them away where jeans go to live over summer, unless they are super lightweight or wide-leg. I’ve also learned to keep an equal supply of linen and light cotton pants around because shorts aren’t really that more pleasant in hot weather. Have you tried to get up from a park bench after sitting in shorts on a hot evening? It does not feel good. For that matter it does not sound nice either.
Do not stop exercising. I don’t start ambitious work out plans in the summer, but I’ve learned to keep my mindset any kind of sweet and happy I have to sweat unhappily for a couple times a week. Afterward, I feel as if I could conquer the world. It’s my saddest truth.
Buy a fan. Each year, about in May or June I dig out a box fan I bought my first summer in NC and I set it up by my bed, turn it the direction of my feet, and sleep like a rock. It’s magical, it’s marvelous. It’s the perfect white noise and I’m wiggling my toes happily just thinking about it. What’s that? Sorry I just fell asleep for one moment.
Become ok with the idea of sweating. Look, I know some people can sweat roses, or whatever it is they do, but for some of the rest of us we just have to become ok with a slightly less fairy tale ending. Bonus points, it’s so much better for you to actually sweat that you’ll outlive once all the roses have drooped and withered. That was unkind, yes, but it’s hot and please pardon me.
Flex a little from time to time. I really enjoy the fact that I can brag survival of harsher winters and summers now. (Lord please don’t send me to Africa).
AC. Here’s the deal. Some folks keep their house so cold in summer that stepping outside is a 30 degree difference. If they want to spend an arm and a leg on electricity and encourage getting head colds, go right ahead, but I’ve found that keeping the house a trifle nearer to the outdoor temp is actually a nice way of getting through the summer without feeling like it’s so darn hot outside.
In the end though, those are all things I’ve done to support my decision to adapt; they work for me and might not work for you. The root of the decision was simply that I decided it was worth it to want to adapt.
Decide you’re going to do it and do it.
That’s really all there is to it, because once you make up your mind to do something that’s half the hurdle. The thing is that some folks do better in some climates than others. It’s possible that the hottest of weather will never be something I love, but love is not my objective here. I’d rather be able to say that I am able to enjoy something less than ideal.
A few years ago I visited Haiti and the heat was a shock. I was almost ill for the first two days from the temperature and dehydration, but as the days passed I was surprised to discover how much my body could regulate itself away from AC and ice. I slept on the roof and dared the mosquitos to infect me, and it was heavenly. One would wake up every morning just a bit sticky but really quite happy. We had showers every other day and survived quite well, which was another shock. When we did get showers it was a bucket shower, with maybe about 2 gallons that one was able to use.
One winter in Michigan was snowy and especially cold. All winter we had snowstorms and blizzards more often than not and it was marvelous. We couldn’t leave home much and I spent a lot of time just tromping around outside and drinking hot cocoa later. There were endless armloads of wood to carry because my family still doesn’t have a furnace, and you know? It is one of the best winters in my memory.
There’s something about being able to adapt which is quite satisfying, especially if you can do it in a moderate degree of comfort. It’s not necessary to suffer just for the sake of suffering, but to be able to be flexible about life is a thing that, once cultivated, will help serve one for life.
It’s best to stay practical about these things. Are you wearing clothes which suit the climate? Do you actually try to do things you’ll enjoy? Maybe snow isn’t your thing but skiing is — great! Go do the thing you enjoy, wear the right clothes for it, and add little things to it which you enjoy. Wrap up in the blanket, drink hot chocolate with a splash of whiskey. Make it fun. It really does work.
Maybe the weather here is a little like an overly enthusiastic volcano, but life does become slower over piña coladas, in swimming holes, glasses of cold mint tea, fresh tomatoes and a stack of books to read. Summer here is not my time to be ultra productive. I save that for shoulder seasons when I actually want to go the extra mile.
Culture adapts around climate as much as anything and if you insist on staying in a weather culture from somewhere else it will just be miserable. In Haiti I quickly learned to walk as slowly as the residents of the country did because it was just too hot to do otherwise. If I had insisted on hustling along like a proper American it would’ve over-heated me quickly.
These days I’m taking my cues from the culture around me. I make mint julep, admire the magnolias, wear brighter colors, move more slowly, and occasionally call people “bubba.” If you watch the folks around you, you’ll probably figure out how to make yourself at home.
However, if you see me driving a jacked up truck with no muffler through town 10 times on a Friday night, you have my full permission to take me down.
There are limits.
L. Raine
