“For the rain it raineth every day.”

The morning is dark. Sometime earlier it rained, and more rain is expected. The breeze is strong, maybe even a wind at times. The AC is on, my attempt to beat the humidity. I started my day cleaning up after Henry. He got spooked and knocked over a full water dish in the kitchen. My pant legs got wet as did some jars and cutting boards, but the floor does look good, as if I washed it. The paws prints are gone.

I have no plans for today. Outside does not look inviting. Besides, the roads will be filled with bored vacationers looking for amusement.

This is the rainy season in Ghana. It rains just about every day. Everything is green. The fields are filled with corn and millet plants so high you can’t see over them. Nothing stops in the rain. It is just a regular part of the day. The bugs return. In my living room, I had a naked light bulb hanging on a wire from the ceiling. It was ugly so I bought a basket in the market and made a sort of lampshade for the bulb, relying, of course, on my extensive interior decorating skills. On the floor below the basket was a circle of light, the circumference of the basket. At the end of every night, the circle was black, filled with bugs attracted to the light, to their own demise. I started taking my anti-malarial pills again. I had stopped taking them in the bug-less dry season, but I didn’t want to court malaria so I choked down the gross tasting Aralen, an antimalarial pill.

Most of the rainy season was during the school holiday, sort of Ghana’s version of summer vacation. l traveled. First I’d take the bus to Kumasi, visit friends then take the train to Accra. I always stayed at the Peace Corps hostel in Accra, a whole 50 pesewas (think cents) for bed and breakfast. I also got to catch up with friends, some I hadn’t seen since training. Usually I went to Togo where I binged on French pastry, sorbet, lobster and biftecks with frites, steak and potatoes in English. I shopped at the grand marché, the huge market in Lomé, the capital of Togo. I always thought that made me a world traveler.

Every time I have returned to Ghana it has been during the rainy season. The fields are filled. The rain is heavy at times with thunder and lightning adding a bit of drama. I’d sit outside at the hotel restaurant at a table under a thatched roof, have dinner and watch the rain. Nothing stops in the rain.

Explore posts in the same categories: Musings

2 Comments on ““For the rain it raineth every day.””

  1. Rowen Says:

    If I’m in the mood, I don’t altogether mind having to be out in one of those soaking rains. I remember one densely humid evening walking into a restaurant just as the rain was starting. There weren’t many people out, presumably because the forecast was for wet weather. The air inside the restaurant was very heavy and still, so I took a table under the awning on the patio. The rain fell straight past the edge of my table. I knew I’d be drenched the moment I left, but I was perfectly dry as I ate. So I just watched the water coming down and made up my mind to accept that I’d have to go out in it eventually, and that was that.

    • katry Says:

      I would also have chosen the pato. I love sitting outside when it is raining and seeing all the rain around me. Sometimes I can do that on my deck sitting at the table under the umbrella.

      I always figure despite the rain, life goes on. I never cared if I got wet.

Comments are closed.

%d bloggers like this: