Epistulae ex Ponto: A Quick Thought on Sunning

I have been really really happy. It’s lame to write about happiness and it is likely to infuriate the reader, so I don’t have that much to relate. I had written about my last day in Sofia but it was too sad and chaotic. That last morning was tough for me. During the 8+ hours on the bus to Sozopol from Sofia, I wanted to go back to the States. I was uncomfortable and thirsty. I was tired of moving and just thought about the end of summer: the plane ride heading to New York, driving to Ohio, looking for an apartment, unpacking, starting all over again. But I got here at 6am and slept all day. I took a shower and ate clams and drank rekia. Ever since that first day I have been great. I decided not to compare this place to Patmos. I didn’t want to waste time thinking how this sea side peninsula was not like the Greek island. It feels so good feeling good again.

But as for the title: I sun. I get darker. How could I not? How could an entire race be impervious to the sun? We would be a super race if the sun did not make us hot and darken our skin. It drives me nuts to explain the sun to people. And even if fairly intelligent people don’t think I get darker, can’t I still enjoy feeling the sun on my face. Who hates resting and listening to music on the beach? And I have burned. It happened twice in winter when the snow and sun create a reflection. My friend, a Black female doctor says that in fact, I am foolish for not taking the sun so seriously. I should wear sun screen, I should limit my time. I don’t do these things because there is a part of me that thinks I am super and a bit impervious to the sun. But not because I don’t get darker, because I do and I like it. The complexion I dream of is darker than anyone I know personally. It’s darker than Nicholas.