The 4 Seasons of Mombasa

It’s the last week of November. Usually at this point in the year, I’m awaiting for the first snowfall of the winter. From what I’ve heard, that has already come to Toronto and most of Canada (probably a bit early this year?). And it made me realize, one of the small beauties of Canadian life – 4 distinct seasons. You see, here in Mombasa, south of the equator, and a little east of the prime meridian, we do not have the usual seasons of fall, winter, summer, and spring. Ok fine, we have them in name, but really who can tell? If anything, the 4 seasons of Mombasa at least should really be called hot, hotter, hottest, and scorched earth. Right now, I would put us somewhere between hottest and scorched earth. Scorched earth is supposed to Dec-Feb when usually I am going through the dead of winter (Southern hemisphere, seasons reversed).

My roommate made an interesting comment on Saturday night as we were getting ready to go out. She remarked that usually, (coming from Ottawa), when she would be getting ready to go out at this time of the year, she would be putting on her warm winter boots, long winter coat, thick winter scarf, and maybe a toque. A far cry from the light t-shirt, light pants (long pants only to ward off the mosquitos) and sandals we wear here on a daily basis where the temperature is now 30 degrees at 8 in the morning.

Life is full of cliché phrases. It should come as no surprise to me, or anyone else, that living here, this far away from home, for 4.5 months now has made me realize just how many things I love about Canada and Toronto. But winter?? Yes its true, being here has made me realize that maybe I do like winter after all. I’ve always said I’m a summer-lovin, warm weather kinda guy. I love to be outdoors, and love the feel of a cool summer night’s breeze on a patio with a cold drink (who doesn’t?), but winter has its own beauty. When I tell people here about what winter is like, their usual reaction is a combination of disgust and surprise that any human being (let alone 32 million of us) would put up with that. But I find myself quickly defending winter, and fondly describing the beauty of the first snowfall, the scene of a blanket of white, the joys of skating, skiing, sledding, and then sitting in front of a roaring warm fire at night with a hot drink.

I think there’s more to this though. Maybe its not only the traits of a season, the colours of fall, the snow of winter, the comfort of spring, and the sun of summer but what those seasons represent. In the big picture, it’s a sign that the earth is always spinning, time is moving, life is progressing. Each season represents a new way of life, and we continue to cycle through these seasons. We have the opportunity to look back at the end of a season and look forward to the new one. We get a chance to renew ourselves, even if only in the clothes we wear. The unfortunate part is that we always seem to want the next season. In winter, we can’t wait for the relief of spring, and in summer we can’t wait for it to cool down. Well, here’s hoping that the next time I crave for the opposite season, I’ll remember my experience here in perma-hot. I don’t remember the last time I felt ‘cold’ and frankly it may take some time for my body to recognize that feeling whenever it does set in again (the irony here is that I will leave Mombasa in the hottest month and return to Canada in one of the coldest months). Anyways, so while the snow is falling in Canada, the sun continues to shine in Mombasa. But remember, winter is what makes us special. Its what people expect from us. Out of 6 billion people in this world, there are only 32 million (ok fine add a bunch-a-million more for all those scandanavian countries and those in northern Siberia) who can tough it out with old-man winter. In case you’re wondering, the forecast for tomorrow? Full sun and 32 degrees.