Rainy Season

Finally I see why it's called the rainy season! It's sheeting rain, huge drops accentuated by the tin roof. The road we walked up to get here looks more like the cascading downhill side of a dam than it does a thoroughfare.

Luckily, we're safely ensconced in the covered patio of a cafe. With a long silver spoon, I stir crystal sugar into cardamom-ginger-cream black African tea.

Last night we saw our first big storm. It had been hot, muggy, oppressive enough that I've been showering in cold twice a day to wash off sweat from walking. We siesta from ten to three if we can.

But when it rains, the flood comes all at once. The first few drops feel good, but you need shelter soon because rain gear is simply not enough. Lightning follows on thunder; wind shakes the walls. There is a darkening of the sky.

Dana and Eileen were caught in the storm last night, out walking Dana's borrowed rescue dog. They took the dog home, but the walk back to our guesthouse had them both dripping and soggy by the time they reached our guesthouse door.

You can't hear conversation over the sounds of the storm. We all flopped back on the beds.

The storm can last for hours or minutes, so Dana stayed the night. In a lull, we ordered in for dinner.

In the morning, the streets were damp, but otherwise little evidence of the storm remained. Two meter deep cement channels beside each road run with red silty streams in the hour after a storm, but not much longer.

Kigali is built for storms like these. The storms, which will come most days now, are new only to me.

In the morning, the air is a little lighter, but the sun is still hot by eight. By afternoon, the clouds are full again with fresh thunder.

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