It rained this afternoon. And I was so happy. We’ve had hot and humid temperatures here since I got back from the States. So hot it reminds me of my first years in Atlanta without air conditioning or ceiling fans. You can’t escape the sweat. I wake up in the middle of the night to use the loo and I return to damp sheets. (Wait, that makes it sound like I never made it to the bathroom! No, no, no! The sheets are damp from sweat! I am potty trained, dangit!) You realize why the locals always stand in the shade here. Why they thought you were a bit daft to enjoy standing in the sunlight earlier in the season, when it wasn’t so damned hot. Everything sticks to you, but there is no way you are going to wear more clothes and cover your overheated skin.
So rain today was a relief. Luis was taking a shower, and I tramped up to the roof to watch the storm roll in. The clouds were fabulous to watch – the high ones moving southward towards us, the lower ones moving northwards. A cold front moved in and my skin reacted quickly, cooling the rest of me down. Lightning flashed in the north. I counted the seconds until I heard the thunder rumbling towards me, trying to catch up with its creator. Then the first drops fell. I must have been sitting in some sort of void, or the heat coming off my skin dried the rain before it could reach me, because for the first few minutes I stayed dry. Finally I felt the rain on my skin and realized it was time to go in.
Within minutes the rain was pounding down into the courtyards, the scent of dusty concrete rising up in response. I dashed across the back courtyard to get to the bathroom, then dashed back, feeling the cool air and rain on my back.
Luis and I stood at the front door with the upper windows open so we could watch the rain come down. A couple of kids were running down the sidewalk. The stopped at our door to hand us a flyer for one of the local political hopefuls, then ran on to the next door, squealing in the downpour. “Pobrecitos”, I said. “Nah, they’re getting paid,” said Luis. We closed the windows and went back inside.
Eventually the rain stopped. In Atlanta it was more likely to heat right back up once the rain stopped. Here it stayed cool. An hour later I went to the Internet café and actually had to wear jeans and a light jacket. No need to run the room fan tonight.
1 comment:
Hey, you. It may be our Midwest U.S. upbringing that prompts such a visceral response to a rainstorm. My lifelong chum Denny still laughs at a visit some 25 years back when the thunderstorms rolled in and I actually turned the bed around so it would face the open window and I could hear the thunder and watch the lightning. There aren't storms like that on the coast in B.C. and I miss them.
Your post on the fact of living in a foreign country being a lonely exercise is so bang-on. It's been 40 years since I did that in Germany, but the feeling of being *outside* I can still conjure with no difficulty. I even recall a short poem by Herman Hesse I think it was who talked about it : "Seltsam im Nebel zu wandern..." that translates roughly into "It is lonely wandering in the fog..."
Will write again soon, dear one.
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