As I’m sitting here writing this I’m looking out over the yard at what used to be our driveway. Right now it resembles a small version of the Amazon, or in Haiti’s case, the Artibonite. It’s brown, brown, brown and the water is flowing from the work yard through the side with our houses on it trying to make it’s way to the ocean. The scooters parked down by the guard tower are slowly losing their wheels as the water level climbs, and there are some kids screeching in a way that makes me think they’re dying, but I know they’re actually having fun playing in the canal that runs between us and the neighbors. Looking out the kitchen window over the garden I can see that everything is under water. There are hand dug canals that run through the garden so that the water coming off the sand washing waters our bananas, but you can’t see the canals right now because it’s just one big lake, and that lake has consumed the entire work yard. I just saw the guard walk through the yard. He took the path of least resistance, and he did it with rolled up pants, his shoes sort of sluffed on, and his shotgun in tow. And Chris is doing one of his favorite things – walking barefoot through the yard with his umbrella to go check on things. I remind him of what could be in that water and he doesn’t seem to mind.
We have officially entered the rainy season.
We have had rain before now, but in the last two days we’ve had a lot. We’ve had normal rainy season rain, and I almost forgot what that was like because we haven’t had a “normal” rainy season in a while. Last year was hot, and it felt like not much rain fell, at least not consistently like it should.
Yesterday we got invited to Michelet’s church. Michelet has worked at the mission for about a year and a half now. His church is a newer building made of blocks with a tin roof. It’s large. The floor is dirt because they haven’t got the funds to finish it any other way yet. The benches were simple. Some may even call them crude. The music was led by a young man who gave it all he had and was accompanied by a bass drum made from a goat or cow hide. I liked it.
When we arrived and got settled it was blue and clear. It was warm. It was humid. I remember looking around and thinking that there wasn’t much ventilation. At one moment a breeze blew through and Danielle, one of our Vision Trippers, and I both got big smiles on our faces and wiggled our shirts around a little to get some air. Then it got more humid. And then the pastor started his message. About halfway through the rain started to fall. And then it fell harder. And it got louder. And the pastor kept speaking. And then it got louder. Rain on a tin roof is a sound unlike any other. All of the sudden it went from loud to INSANITY. The pastor was still speaking. Chris was literally yelling at me from 6 inches away and I could not hear him. There was arm waving from the pulpit, some other hand gestures, and then the pastor packed up his Bible and stepped down. The congregation started to rise and move around a bit, watching the rain through the doorway. Eventually it let up enough for another member to do a closing prayer and benediction. We shook hands with many, and then headed to the car. The craziest part was that it wasn’t even noon. We never get rain early in the day unless there is a hurricane in the area.
I have seen soccer games and baseball games called on account of rain. Yesterday was the first time I’ve had churched called on account of rain :)
Yes, the rainy season is here. The time of year where it may take three days to do one load of laundry because just when it’s dry enough to take off the sky starts to rumble and shake. And then it starts and you have about ten seconds to decide if you have enough time to get it off before it’s soaked, and usually you don’t. So then you just sit inside and watch things get wet all over again and hope that you have enough clean underwear to get through the week.