Under the rainy season sky

Lake Bunyonyi, Uganda

I’ve been meaning to write a post about my first complete rainy season and after one of my colleagues told me that the rainy season is already finished elsewhere in Tanzania, I figured that was my cue.

Living through a rainy season held a certain appeal for me.  I pictured floods of water and lazy weekends spent indoors.  I was told that it would not rain all the time but that instead it would rain heavily, sometimes violently, and then just as suddenly the sun would return.  I was warned that transport via bajaj (auto rickshaw) would be less than comfortable and that gashes would open in the roads.  As compensation for our patience, the end of the rainy season promised a reprieve from the intense heat that has persisted since January.

As usual, it was the things that I wasn’t told about that left the greatest impression (with mixed results).

The good

The rainy season sky is spectacular.  I do not possess sufficient descriptive talent to describe this to you.  For once I am actually going to attach pictures to my post in order to compensate.  I honestly think that every picture I took was made more dramatic by the ever-changing backdrop provided by the sky.  I undoubtedly drew curious glances from fellow passengers as I took picture after picture from plane windows traveling across East Africa in March.  To me, the show put on by the clouds proved irresistible, especially with the threat of being caught in a torrential downpour removed!

Although it did not rain all day every day, sometimes it rained for long stretches.  As I predicted, there is something deeply satisfying about sitting quietly, listening to the rain beat down on the windows and resigning yourself to the fact that there is nowhere you can go – and if you’re generous enough with yourself – nothing you can do.

The bad

Gashes in the road do not begin to describe what happens when it rains.  Potholes the size of lakes can open up overnight, creating pandemonium (see my earlier post on the roads).  The amount of time it took my intern to travel to work varied by hours.  Something I’ll never forget is the journey down the road that leads to a popular area on the peninsula, the Slipway.  Again, I find myself at a loss for words.  The topography of the road leading to Slipway is how I envision that of the moon.  Meeting a friend for drinks after not having used the road for about a week, I was so shocked by its deterioration I could not stop laughing as I drove my car through (yes, another opportunity to be perceived as crazy).  Essentially you just put your car in drive, cross your fingers and inch your car into murky brown puddles with no idea how deep they are, where they end or how many boulders your tire might inadvertently tread upon in the process.  It’s like riding a mechanical bull (or so I imagine).  Decidedly unfunny is the fact that I’ve seen people have serious trouble on this road, including an unfortunate man who broke one of his axels.  What never ceases to confound me is that this road leads to a Doubletree hotel – seriously.  It calls into question some of my theories about the relationship between money and power! 

The ugly

Plane shot - couldn't resist!

Of all the things I was told about the rainy season, not one person mentioned the mould.  I vaguely remember that when I lived in Singapore we put little moisture sucking containers in our closets to ward against this threat.  Apparently they are very effective and of course, not available in Dar es Salaam.  During my trip to Uganda, I had recurring day-mares where I opened my closet door to find my clothes encased in damp green fur.  The relief I initially experienced on my return gave way to dismay a few days later when I noticed a number of my suits sporting telltale rings of white.  Bringing garbage bags of mouldy suits to the dry cleaners has become a bi-weekly chore in my rainy season world.  One morning, overwhelmed by finding yet another molded piece of clothing and by the totality of a number of unpalatable circumstances, I found myself prostrate on my kitchen floor.  Looking around my apartment from that angle I noticed that the majority of my furniture was also beginning to sport a thin white coat.   Needless to say, over the past few months, vinegar has become one of my closest allies – as have the drycleaners! 

Now, as the rainy season in Dar es Salaam draws to a close, I am happy to report that my clothes have stopped being a source of torment (well in terms of mould, not style) and as promised, the air is sweet.  All things considered, my first rainy season was a pretty good one… but the promise of cloudless blue skies and jeans at night already has me planning a weekend at the beach!  

Ps – my latest installment: http://twssmag.com/