If you like plagues of locust, and getting caught in the rain

Rainy season has come early. We thought at first that perhaps there was just a fluke thunderstorm in September. Everyone told us that the first rains come on October 24th, and this exact date was given over and over again, so we assumed that rainy season couldn’t possibly have begun yet. We were wrong.

The first rain came in September, and we were completely caught off guard. It was more of a sprinkle than a real rain storm, and the refugees, while shocked, said that it wasn’t really rain but more of a warning to the farmers to get ready to plant. I accepted this. The next rain in September, however, was a full out thunderstorm. It was unlike any storm I had seen with lightening that could steal the thunder of any fireworks show. The rain storm lasted about two hours and then the rain stopped for a couple of weeks.

This past week, October 5-9, its rained three times. We’re nowhere near October 24th, but the skies don’t seem to care. They seem to be bellowing loudly, “rainy season is here [suckers].”

Aside from the audible confirmation from the heavens, there is yet another way to unmistakably tell that rainy season has arrived: the bugs. Riding home from Block G on Monday I was left wondering what we had done to bring about the plagues. A downpour had lulled us to sleep the night before and the skies were looking like they were ready for an encore. Apparently the day after the first rain (the first real rain that is) millions of flying insects are unleashed for one day only and they intend to use the entirety of their brief engagement to create as much havoc as possible. If you’ve ever seen the cottonwood fill the air like snow, you’ll have an idea of what this infestation looks like. Only this little plague of (not technically) locusts like to smack you in the face, fly into your ears and nose and mouth and down your shirt and plaster themselves on your sunglasses as you ride your bike. I feel for windshields. Its less than pleasant.

The second plague was less obvious at first, but just as perilous. The ground was slick as the rain turned the dust into mud and taking sharp turns became a balancing act fit for the circus. To make it worse, every few feet I was forced to swerve to avoid squishing the masses of frogs that had suddenly overpopulated the roads. How does a little rain suddenly produce that many full grown frogs out of nowhere?

While the bugs and frogs were bad and the humidity was smothering, we at least took solace in the fact that we were outriding the rain on our way back from G (about an hour ride). It looked like it would rain again and we contemplated pausing at Road 36 to wait it out before heading home. We had iPods and phones to think about...We chatted with one of the FORGE staff members at Road 36 and he said not to worry about it, that we would make it home before the rain came. We took his advice. He must be a faster rider than we are.

There’s nothing quite like getting completely drenched. As the first few raindrops hit you, you try to ride harder thinking that maybe if you’re fast enough the raindrops can’t catch you. As more raindrops catch you, you are reminded you aren’t Lance Armstrong. As even more raindrops catch you, you realize its futile to run and its best to just enjoy the spontaneity of getting caught in the rain. And it is enjoyable, especially when the temperature drops an instant 10 degrees.

Until the hail. HAIL!?! Its 95 degrees outside, and its hailing?!?! Pea sized hail pelting you from above, flying insects assaulting you from all sides, frogs giving you the agility and balance workout of your life, and rain drenching you to the core. Its almost biblical.

But really….I loved it. All in a days work. I had spent that morning working with our Refugee Health Services coordinator as she gathered together a group in the market in G and taught on STIs. This woman is incredible. G can be an intimidating place, especially the market. The men are built, the women are strong, and half the people are drinking by 11am. They also don’t have a clinic for miles, and her preventative health talks are extremely important. Speaking in the crowded public market about sex and disease she handled that crowd with poise and expertise. She answered questions on gonorrhea and syphilis, handed out condoms, and urged people to be tested and treated. This is the front lines, and no plagues or rainstorm can dampen the high that comes from being a part of that.