Rainy Days are Saturdays. . . at least lately

I woke up this Saturday morning to a light pattering of rain outside. I looked at my bedside clock - 10:15 a.m.
Wow! Not something that usually happens to me, as I am an early riser. I suppose a combination of being sick all week and yesterday's workout probably should be thrown into the mix of reasons for sleeping in, but the rain is key. For whatever reason, the dozens of dogs in the neighborhood tend not to bark if it is raining. I'm sure they're curled up on their respective owners' stoops or seeking shelter somewhere, but because they aren't in the street, there is less reason for all the drivers to use their horns (which also rouse people from their dreams).
Anyway, the rainy season in Cochabamba finally seems to be petering off. For me, the season means I have to deal with small inconveniences of walking through flooded streets and mud, waiting for a sunny moment to wash my clothes, or sitting in a damp spot when taking public transportation. For many of the families whom I serve, the situation is much more dire.

 

 Me in the Southern Zone, after a house visit

After a hard rain, the water comes down the mountainsides and floods all the houses. There is very little shrubbery or plant life on the hillsides because the dry season is so long and hot that the sun ends up burning/killing everything. Also, any trees in the area have long been hacked down by those who are looking for firewood. A few weeks into the rainy season, it appears like the mountains are lush and green, but it is deceiving - the plants aren't enough to keep the water back. If a house wasn't built well or is older, you can imagine the damage one rainy season causes! I was out making house visits the other day and actually saw the "sewers" backing up and bubbling raw sewage into the open, after a mere 10 minute downpour. (The smell, I imagine, was close to the Bog of Stench in the movie Labyrinth.) My water engineer friend tells me that the flooding situation will only get worse as more streets get developed (without necessarily adding sewers) and there is less available earth to soak up the rain.

Isn't it funny how one moment we are praying for rain and the next we are wishing it away? (Well, that has been my experience growing up in the Midwest anyway.) In about 3 months, I'll be tired of sunny, hot days where every vehicle that passes me by on the road creates a cloud of dust that gets everywhere. I don't even want to think of what is IN that dust. . .
For now, I'll just be thankful for a rather restful night's sleep!