Day 154 - Summer Solstice

I am a week late observing Summer Solstice, but it took me that long to give enough thought to pull memories together about how I learned to celebrate that holiday. As the descendant of Norwegian immigrants, from the land of the midnight sun, I should have been observing that holiday since childhood. But it took a move to Iran to learn the joy of celebration.

Our Assistant Director, Dick

The first summer I spent in Tehran, our newly arrived assistant director, Dick, and his wife Sharon, invited us all to their home to celebrate Summer Solstice. They let us know the day would involve lots of food, so much food we wondered how it would all fit into a meal. The start time was early enough for brunch - and that is when we enjoyed a meal in honor of Dr. Seuss, green eggs and ham - guacamole over the eggs made them green. While brunch didn't include all the promised foods, the start time led most of us to expect we would enjoy a pleasant brunch, perhaps a mimosa or Bloody Mary or two, and then wander away in our many separate directions. But we hadn't given enough thought to just what summer solstice is - the longest day of the year. Dick and Sharon had planned for us to observe the whole of summer solstice, not just part of it.

Each time someone took a step to indicate they thought it was time to leave, Dick or Sharon would bring out something new for us to enjoy. In the end, at least some of us ended up staying until sundown.

Sharon with Patty and Robb

Celebrating Summer Solstice with Dick and Sharon marked the point at which I learned how to have a good time. One important element was not to take ourselves too seriously. We played games, the yes/no game and if this person were a . . . game. We went to costume parties. We enjoyed, learned to cook, and then enjoyed again, wonderful food. Dick was able to come up with the list of ingredients for nearly anything he tasted. Then it was just a matter of experimentation to come up with the process to create the dish. I give Dick credit for my comfort with experimentation when cooking in Romania the following year.

Dick and Sharon bought a car in Iran, something none of the rest of us did. It was a 1940's or 1950's vintage sedan, big enough for three of us to sit across with room to spare, the kind of car my parents had to fit all eight of us in it when we drove to Leech Lake for a week of fishing and swimming.

In 1976, the U.S. Embassy contacted Americans in Iran to advise against any public observation of Independence Day, especially since it was the Bicentennial. To keep our celebrating low key, we decided to drive out of Tehran to spend the day. Since Dick had a car, he was one of the drivers. The other cars and drivers were rentals. Since Dick's car was nearly as old as we were, those in more reliable cars promised to keep Dick's car in sight along the way. For awhile, one car stayed behind us. But we were slow, so slow that the follow car passed us. So we decided to play a game. Dick pulled the car over and we waited. It didn't take long for one of the other cars to come back to check us out. When they arrived, we all smiled and then took off.

Of course, karma will be karma. Tne other car passed us and then something did happen to Dick's car. It stopped. And we were stuck. And this time, no one came back for us for a long time. When they did, we weren't smiling. Neither were they.

Somehow, someone got the car started again and we continued on our way, reminded of the boy who cried wolf.

Years later, when I was back in the U.S., I tried to recreate the magic of celebrating Summer Solstice in Minneapolis. I just didn't have the same ability to give the spark of wonderment that Dick had.  Many years later again I was able to attend the party Dick arranged for himself on the occasion of his retirement. Many of the NIRT crowd were there. We had all aged a bit, but Dick still knew how to make sure his guests had a great time.