I am in Basse, in front of the computer, right at this very moment! And guess what happened a few days ago in village? Rain! And guess what else? I missed it!
I seriously cannot believe I missed the first downpour of rain. I woke up Thursday morning and found the ground soaked, the roof soaked, and a layer of dirty water in a previously empty bucket.
This was the rain I had been dreaming of, and where was I? Off having other dreams, since forgotten. I slept right through the whole thing.
If events had gone according to plan, I would have welcomed the rain as follows: First, I would have run outdoors and laughed excitedly as rain poured down my face. Next, I would have twirled around in happy dizzy circles. Then, I would have bent down and kissed the earth. Suddenly, I would have remembered the bars of soap, the towels, and Levi’s cardboard-box bed, scrambled to my feet and brought these things inside. But I did none of these things. Which is why I spent much of that morning watching my dripping wet towels and dreaming of rain.
Here’s how it happened: Thursday night as I was climbing into bed it started to drizzle. I thought maybe it would turn into a downpour so I decided to lie in bed and not fall asleep. But as I watched the branches of my mango tree appear and disappear with the flashes of lightening, I got frightened and realized sleeping beneath a mango tree during a lightening storm might be a bad decision. So I moved my mattress, blankets, and pillows inside and slept on the floor. It was like a slumber party! Minus the pizza, sodas, and other people. Anyway, despite a head filled with images of waking up covered in creepy crawlies, I fell asleep quickly and slept soundly. When I woke up hours later to pick a beetle off my shoulder, the rain was over. And my house smelled like the hamster department of PETCO. It must be the damp thatch roof.
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