Summary

The author reflects on childhood memories of summer nights spent at a small house by the sea without electricity, where family storytelling under the stars created enduring bonds and a sense of paradise.

Abstract

The article is part of a series where the author reminisces about the beauty and tranquility of nights spent at a seaside house in childhood. Despite the lack of electricity, the setting provided a backdrop for magical family moments. The author's father, a former ship mechanic, shared tales of the sea and taught the children about constellations. The absence of light pollution allowed for clear views of the stars and the Turkish coast, enhancing the sense of wonder. The author cherishes these memories, especially after the area became more developed and the family experienced changes. The piece concludes with the author's intention to revisit the beach, now altered by tourism, to reconnect with the past and honor the memory of a deceased brother.

Opinions

The author views the lack of electricity during childhood summers as a blessing that led to beautiful memories and a deeper connection with nature and family.
The night sky, particularly the visibility of stars and constellations, is seen as a source of inspiration and a keeper of secrets, contributing to the magical atmosphere of the beach.
The stories told by the author's father are cherished as a way of learning about life, death, and freedom, as well as a means to cope with the heart's scars.
The author expresses a sense of loss and nostalgia for the untouched beauty of the beach before tourism and development changed its character.
The beach and the sea are personified as cherished entities that the author considers part of their family's history and personal growth.
The author holds a belief that memories are permanent and can transcend physical changes to a place, emphasizing the power of imagination in preserving the past.

childhood memories

The Sea at Night

“In the Darkness — Lack of Electricity” series, pt. 3

This is part 3 of my series on how lack of electricity has given me some beautiful memories (part 1: “In the Darkness”, part 2 “The Wires”).

The poem and story that follow, were written while listening to two instrumental songs about the sea from the Greek composer Stamatis Spanoudakis. The first one is called “Θάλασσα” (Thalassa = sea), and the second one is Κύματα (Kimata = waves). If you want to listen to them while reading, they’re linked below.

The sun has gifted us its last breath for the day The colors exploded on the sky The stars now show the way The water is quiet and the moon is still shy

Soon enough darkness will embrace the beach The galaxy will show itself in its full glory Lights in the distance seem within reach I am getting ready to hear one more nautical story

I learn about life, death, and the stars About darkness and years of freedom I learn about magic songs that erase the heart’s scars And about the light anyone can find if they need some

The waves are the sweetest lullaby The stars are the keepers of my secrets “Those who are gone are there, up high” He says before showering me with goodnight kisses

My father’s aunt had built a small house by the sea. She lived abroad and rarely visited the island, so she was kind enough to allow us (and her other nieces and nephews of course) to stay at the house if we wanted.

When I was a child, the area had no electricity, but the small villages close to it did. We used to spend many weeks there in the summer. When I grew up I realized how tough it was for our parents to take care of all the things we needed without electricity. But, for my siblings and me, it was paradise.

We used to shower outside, using the plastic hose that was left out in the sun to get hot water. A small gas stove was our mother’s equipment for cooking. We used oil lamps at night. If we had gone to one of the nearby villages, we used flashlights to make our way through the beach and the fields to reach the home.

When I was 8 or 9 years old, more houses started being built and electricity eventually reached that area. At night though, the beach was still dark. I was grateful for it.

We would spend most nights sitting on the sand, and our father would tell us stories from his travels when he was a ship mechanic. He told us about how the stars looked at night when the ship was crossing the ocean. He taught us how to find Polaris (the north star) and other constellations.

How to find Polaris/ Image from faroutguides.com

From the beach, we could see the lights of the cities on the coast of Turkey. They looked like stars, too. A nearby village was also visible there. The street lights were positioned in such a way to make it look like a jewel from a distance at night. And, let me tell you, it really looks like a jewel when seen from that beach.

My father would also tell us stories from his childhood, when he was also a child sitting with his parents and siblings on the same beach. Those moments were rare, since he would usually avoid talking about his parents . My mother would also chime in about her experiences in the village she grew up in, and how the nights were for them back then.

Even when we went to bed, the sounds of the sea were still audible. Every night there, I wished that my life could stay like that forever. Without shouting and abuse. I believed we would be a happy family if we moved there permanently.

When the summer would end and we had to return to the town, I was always very sad. I made sure to say “goodbye” to the house and promise that I will be back. I also said goodbye to the beach, by holding some sand in my hand and whispering to it, before letting it fall back down. Of course, I had to say goodbye to the sea as well. I did that when I would take the last swim for the day before leaving. I would dive as deep as possible and speak. I loved how the water distorted my voice. “Goodbye, I love you, I will be back” is what I always said.

The last time I was there was in 2014. I haven’t been back to the island since. When I have enough mental strength to go again, it’s in my priorities to go to that beach and tell it and the sea that I’m back.

The quote “Those who are gone are there, up high” is something my brother would tell me. After his death, I often look at the stars and smile. Of course I know he’s not in the stars but it’s the memories of us on the beach at night that make me smile.

I have learned from my parents that the place is now changed. Tourism isn’t always a good thing. That’s why I want to go when the tourists won’t be there. Possibly in the winter or early spring.

I want to go and visit the small house, which is now surrounded by other houses. I will close my eyes and pretend that it’s how it used to be. I will swim and tell the sea that I kept my promise, I made it back. I will then sit on the beach and enjoy the sunset. I will wait for the moon and the stars to come greet me. And I will think of all the good memories. I might also have a photo of my brother with me.

Even though the place has gone through many changes, no one can change my memories. It’s a good thing that my imagination is unlimited.

Thank you for reading!