A Summary of Summer 2023: Part I

4 min. read

As I write, North-West Europe has been enjoying freakishly good late summer weather. I’ve long been fond of September. It’s a month of transition and fresh starts, straddling two seasons and often accompanied by clement weather. Still, I can’t recall ever experiencing sustained, heatwave-like temperatures at this time of year. (Cue mixed feelings of cheer and climate change-related angst).

I never like to complain when it’s hot. I’ll take bright sunshine and sticky tropical climes over the typical cold and damp, any time. Heck, we’re owed extra heat and sunlight after the half-hearted, stop-start disappointment of the core summer months. I need all that Vitamin D and brightness to brace myself for the cooler and darker seasons.

Back in early August, returning from my latest excursion to Eastern Europe, I am greeted by mostly steel grey skies and weather cool enough to tempt me to switch on the heating. It does nothing at all to quell a resurging malaise, soon to evolve into another bout of light depression.

On the bright side, I have another visit from mum to look forward to; her last before Christmas. I’m not as buoyed by the idea as I should be. It’s another fortnight stay and I worry about how to fill the time. Mum is an easy-going guest but I don’t want to take anything for granted. The state of my finances also leaves me nervous. Mum has been self-sufficient and even generous with her resources. Yet it bothers me immensely that I’m still not in the position to treat her. It’s what I’d want for any guest, let alone a relative.

In the end, as usual, I upset myself mostly over nothing. Mum’s stay is smooth and more or less drama-free. The sun makes a reappearance. She’s now familiar enough with my local area to go out on autonomous trips to the gym and the park. We do one or two cultural events, including an exhibition on the connections between Belgium’s colonisation of the Congo and the rise of Art Nouveau. Understandably, it leaves mum feeling morose.

The bitter-sweet runs throughout her visit. Difficult discussions about the past and an unruly dog dampen an otherwise pleasant picnic experience at my local park, for example. Mum and I have a number of hard, revelatory conversations. Some bring a sense of resolution, others need to be revisited at a more propitious time.

The dread of being left to my own devices stirs days before her departure. I try not to pay it too much mind so it doesn’t take me out of the present.

It’s scant solace when she does eventually return to London. The absence hits harder than on her previous trip. The month of September, usually associated with some kind of renewal, stretches before me like an inscrutable void. I’m still feeling the aftershock of my most recent major recruitment let-down. I eventually press the pause button on applications, sensing that I’m reaching a point of job hunting burnout. Mum’s visit is the ideal excuse. I will resume towards the end of the trip, her presence providing some kind of moral support. When I do get back on the grind, I ease myself into the process as much as possible.

Even with the job search break, I’m still very busy during what would usually be a summer lull. Brussels itself seems busier than usual for August. Either the rising cost of travel has been a deterrent or folk have taken shorter breaks earlier in the summer.

I stay occupied with my freelance writing and copy editing exploits. I’m also becoming ever-more integrated into anti-imperialist peace initiative, Intal. I attend yet another meeting with the core team mid-August, where we plan activities for the coming months. I also sign up to volunteer with the group at this year’s Manifiesta festival in Ostende. 

It’s a sweltering hot day; a pleasing contrast to the wet and wind of the previous year. My shift at the pop-up Intal book shop coincides with an enriching panel discussion about the troubles in Africa's Sahel region. The panellists give interventions on how African states should resist Western interference whilst facing down the domestic enemy. With contributions from Guy Marius Sagna (Senegal) and Kambale Musavuli (Congo), I’m reassured once again that the flame of African socialism wasn’t completely extinguished with the fall of so many post-Independence struggles in the late 20^th Century. 

Other highlights include interacting with South African activist, Mikaela Nhondo Erskog, a rousing speech by US Amazon collective action pioneer, Christian Smalls and an address by the one and only Jeremy Corbyn. Compelled to cancel his previous Manifiesta invitation on the news of Queen Elizabeth II’s death, he receives a hero’s welcome this summer. The Socialist Left in Belgium still has a lot of love for Mr Corbyn.

 JC is due to make an appearance at the Intal camp but appears to be delayed, probably mobbed by some fellow-travellers after his intervention on the mainstage. As we wait around, I hear one of the other Intal volunteers declare with mock-impatience, ‘F*** Jeremy Corbyn!’ for which I pounce on him, only half-joking. 

Mr Corbyn finally makes an appearance. He resumes his previous thread not to relent on campaign efforts for peaceful resolutions to global conflicts. He looks rather sheepish as we launch into a spontaneous rendition of ‘Ohhhhh, Jeremy Corbyn!’ but receives it graciously. I’m hoping for just a quick selfie with the man himself. My modest expectations are exceeded. I wind up spending a good amount of time with the Corbyn entourage including his unassuming wife, Laura – the mastermind behind his post-Labour leadership Peace & Justice Initiative. I enquire about her past life in banking. Laura explains that, as a means of discrediting her and her husband's politics, the press portrayed her as some bigwig financier when she her position was far more modest.

I meet various members of the Corbyn team and their wider circles. Over the course of the day, I’ll bump into Hannah, the sister of my former manager, Ama. We’ll swap Labour party battle stories with Corbyn and his crew, many of us now having been expelled for spurious reasons. I’ll listen to similar frustrations from an Australian comrade about their own right-of-centre Labour government. 

These kind of serendipitous encounters characterise the day.

Soundtrack: Personal Design of a Decade mixes, 2010-2014, By the Water by Sondae