Closed chapters

Over the years I have happily closed some of the chapters in my life and celebrated their transformation into memories. I've kept others open for as long as I could, simply because they were too fabulous to close. And then there are uncertain chapters, the ones I'd like to think were still open, but going back to them feels rather unnatural and odd. Since I can't decide what to do with them, I just leave them as they are, hoping that one day I might go back but knowing for a fact that I won't.

Summer schools fall under this last category. For about eight years, they were the thing to look forward to every summer. New places, new languages, new people, everything on fast forward, a world away from daily routine, with an intensity that left me wanting more every time. All the promises made and never kept - I'll write / call / come visit / never forget you and the easy way out - it's one of the unwritten rules of summer schools, nobody actually believes that promises will be kept, but everybody knows summer is not complete without them.

I got to thinking about this a few days ago, when it dawned on me that my love for Warsaw, before moving here and making it my sort of home, was not so much about the city itself, but about the people. And the people who made everything so perfect, so fresh and fun were not the locals, but the ones I had met during summer schools.

Something tells me the age of academic tourism is over. Once you're out of the circuit, it's tough to get back in and it may even turn out to be a huge disappointment. But that's a risk I'd be willing to take, for the sake of those few weeks filled with the excitement of discoveries and promises never kept.