Global warming, Lithuanian-style

December 7, 2008

From Lithuanian Herigate September/October 2007

Despite the immanent threat of global warming, summer came late to Lithuania, and in mid-August has already begun to show signs of leaving early. We have had hot mornings and breezy afternoons, a healthy portion of humidity for lunch, and a hail storm with a side of rainbow for dinner. The entire month has been nothing more than a meteorological roller coaster. It’s difficult to know what to wear, but if you don’t like the weather, at least it’s not around for long—just don’t leave the house without an umbrella.

On a warm, clear Thursday evening I went with a friend to hear a jazz concert at Šv. Kotrynos bažnyčia (St. Catherine’s church). The Kristupo vasaros festivalis (Christopher summer festival) takes place in Vilnius every summer during the months of July and August; there are various venues throughout the city, and musicians from all over Lithuania and the world, participate. That evening, the concert was being held not inside the church, but outside in the newly renovated courtyard. An unknown but quite talented Lithuanian band stood on the stage set against the old brick wall of an adjoining building. Several spectators sat in a few dozen chairs right in front while others lounged on the grass, or relaxed on the edge of the fountain. The atmosphere was light, friends laughed, and teenagers played cards in the moonlight.

The weekend of the Anykščiai mountain bike marathon—the third leg after Vilnius and Ignalina in Lithuania’s mountain bike “triple crown”—was crisp. On Sunday morning, a few hundred competitors and spectators converged on an empty field adjacent to a horse training facility. The day’s warm-up consisted of dodging dried piles of manure, while attempting to maneuver the bike through the tall grass. After paying the 20lt ($8) registration fee, participants could relax in the sun, or get a microwaved hotdog from the mobile café opened for business right in the finish area. While we sipped our instant coffees, we enjoyed the Lithuanian pop music being blasted from several loudspeakers and watched as the local fire department set up showers and hoses to clean the bikes—certainly an indication of the condition of the trail. At exactly one o’clock in the afternoon, the gun fired and we were off. In a cloud of sand, racers anxiously jockeyed for position, desperate not to get caught behind a slowpoke before heading onto the narrow trail. Thirty kilometers (18.6 miles) of sandy rolling forest later, and we were sprinting to the finish, motivated by the meal ticket in our pocket guaranteeing us a gargantuan portion of pasty oatmeal and a plastic cup of hot tea.

Somehow everyone seemed to know the last weekend in August that summer was over. Besides the fact that the following Saturday would be September 1^st and the official start of school, like a sixth sense, Lithuanians just sort of knew that the end of the really hot weather was near. It seemed that all of Vilnius’s residents were out of town, either by the sea or by the lake. Having already used all of my vacation time (and money) at the end of July, I stayed in town with not more than a handful my fellow Vilniečiai (Vilnius residents)—someone had to watch the city. The weekend was spent swimming in Trakai, where even right in front of the castle there was ample parking, and at Žalieji ežerai (Green lakes, about 10 miles from the center of Vilnius) where I found myself alone, save for one other family. In the afternoons, I sat at Pilies Kepyklelė—my favorite café on Pilies gatvė—drinking lattes, eating cherry-filled shortcake, and giving advice to tourists about what to see and do on a quiet weekend in my home town.

As summer prepares to fly south with the birds and the days get shorter and shorter, I’ll take the advice of the meteorologist on CNN International and get my sweaters out of storage. At least for a few more weeks though, I’ll be sure to have a t-shirt on underneath because often when we least expect it, the sun comes out and the day warms up enough to sit outside in the Old Town and drink a coffee on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

Filed under: Daily Life,Lithuania

Tags: clips, Lithuanian Heritage, Vilnius