It took a while to officially arrive, but I think it’s actually here: rainy season.
What does this mean? Mainly that it rains a lot. Normally in the afternoons when I’m trying to walk to one of my youth groups (and then give up because, seriously, who’s going to show up in this downpour?! and also, I’m soaked.) But I’ve realized it’ll pour whenever it damn pleases. At night (which I kind of enjoy because the rain on my tin roof drowns out the awful banda music being blasted by my neighbor) or in the morning (like right now) or all. day. long.
It also means that laundry takes exponentially longer since I have to run outside and wash in between downpours and then wait for them to dry on a line strung up in my kitchen… which takes forever… and also turns cooking into a fun game of limbo. It apparently means power outages and the occasional drip drip drip from my roof. It means hurry! make your phone call quickly before it starts raining again or you won’t be able to hear anything over the pounding of raindrops on the roof! It means an increase in the number of mosquito bites I have to remind myself not to itch. It means busting out my rainboots (huge thanks again to my friends for sending those!) and getting stares from the people of my town because checkered rainboots aren’t quite the norm and, let’s face it, they’re probably jealous. It also means that camioneta and microbus rides take on a more humid and, sadly, smelly nature.
Small rivers will run down the streets due to poor drainage. Landslides will plague the country (and transportation routes) for the next few months. I’ll inevitably be stranded somewhere wondering if I should just make a run for it.
For all the inconveniences, though, I kind of like it. I spent most of training dealing with the rainy season and there’s something oddly comforting about it. For now, at least. I’m sure I’ll be ready for endless sun by the time October rolls around.
Extra Note: There are some volunteers from my training class keeping fantastic blogs and I was particularly moved by this post by Carolyn. As they say, she hit the nail on the head. Or, as they say in Guate, “cabal”.