Friday , July 8
This morning, we get to help out a little with the weekly children's ministry, so we figure out last-minute organization of our short object lesson as we stroll through the compound to the chapel with a little bit of sunshine peaking through the ever-present blanket of gray clouds that makes everything look more cheery. That little bit of sunshine though, however bright and happy it may be, somehow adds a heightened level of oppression to the heat and humidity.
We're enjoying ourselves, watching the little kids run around near the end of the program as they play Four Corners, screaming, scrambling and generally running wild. Outside, the clouds are closing back in over the little cracks that the sun was shining through earlier...
We're back in our room now, and since Fridays and Saturdays are weekend days here in Bangladesh, we now have plenty of time to just relax for a while. After lunch sometime we'll probably wander out to look around and maybe pick up a movie or two to watch later, but we're not going anywhere right now because it's pouring down like no other outside. I guess the sunshine earlier was probably a clue to how violent the onslaught would be...
As we take the auto-rickshaw out to the market, the skies are clear again, making it the perfect time to walk around and look at the shops without fear of getting wet. Hey, we even get to walk part of the way back home!
This constant back and forth is how it just seems to be typically around her this time of year - one moment the skies will look like they're clearing, then the next all the side streets are flooding under some powerful (although usually short) deluge of rain, then the rain stops all of a sudden, just to start back up again later. There's so much water it seems almost frivolous to me, coming from the dry Central Valley as I do. I mean, all the moisture I feel collecting on my skin alone could probably irrigate a small field of carrots or something.
And yet through all this crazy back and forth weather, the people of Bangladesh just keep on going as though they weren't experiencing swings in the weather that switch faster than an extremely hormonal woman. In fact, through it all, the rickshaws keep right on rolling on, perhaps coming out a little soggy on the tail end of one of the longer squalls, but still going. Hmm...it still seems kind of strange to me, but maybe by the end of my time here I'll get used to it and be able to just keep trekking on, not minding stepping off the sidewalk dry just to end up a little drippy by the time I reach the other side.