I’ve never been somewhere where that old saying is more
true. The few times it’s rained while I’ve been here have been absolute down
pours. Today was no different. Shortly after lunch, the skies opened up and the
rain started falling like crazy. Unfortunately for me, I had forgotten to close
my window when I left for school in the morning. Even worse, I was pretty sure
my computer was sitting on my bed right near my window. Seems like my only
option was to brave the weather and go back to my room to close the window.
That, or buy a new computer.
The problem with heavy rain in Ghana is that the drainage
system isn’t really that great. A little rain is no problem, but when it pours,
the water doesn’t really have anywhere to go but up. So instead of walking home,
it was more like wading home. The water was halfway up my calves! I made it
home just fine though (thanks to Madam Gifty for the umbrella) and rescued my
computer before it got too wet.
The real fun started on my way back to school after closing
my windows. It seemed that in the few minutes it took me to get everything
settled in my room, the water level had risen another inch or two. It was so
high that even the gutters on the sides of the street were underwater. This is
even worse than it sounds because all the gutters here are uncovered and you
need to jump over them to get across the street. Normally, this isn’t so bad.
Like when you can see both sides of the gutter, I mean. Today, when I didn’t
really know where the gutter started and where it ended, I was going based
mostly on muscle memory and luck. I wasn’t very lucky. Instead of making it all
the way across, I felt my foot slide on the very edge of the gutter and before
I knew it, I fell face-first into the now nearly knee-deep water. Good thing I
had switched the umbrella for a raincoat. Oh right, raincoats don’t help you if
you’re laying in the biggest puddle in the world. To make matters worse, I
completely scraped up my hands on the rocks under the water. #winning
I got myself cleaned up when I got to the school though and
it made for a great story to tell all the teachers and students. Everyone was
really concerned about my hands, but I told them I would just tell people the
cuts were from a fight. It’s perfect. I have cuts on my left palm from where I
braced my fall when some guy hit me, but I also have cuts on the knuckles of my
right hand. You know, from where I beat his face in. That’s believable, right?
They didn’t think so either.
When I got back to school later this evening, Madam Gifty
insisted on cleaning up my cuts some more with hot water and then putting some
anti-bacterial cream on it for me (even though I told her I’d already done
that). When she brought out the hot water and rag, I tried taking it from her
to clean the cuts myself, but it became pretty obvious that she wasn’t going to
let that happen. Instead, she sat down, took my hands, and cleaned the cuts
herself. Ghana-Mom to the rescue. And here I thought these two months were
going to be an exercise in “independence”.
On a completely unrelated note, I spent yesterday afternoon
and early evening at Ben’s house, which is about twenty minutes away from here.
Being at Ben’s place is probably the closest thing that I’ll get to being home
while I’m here in Ghana. I sat on the couch and watched one of the boys that
lives with him play FIFA 2012 on their PS3, watched Hulu, ate a hotdog and
salad, and had a milkshake for dessert. It sort of felt like cheating, but it
was nice having a day like that where I could just sit back and relax and enjoy
a small taste of home. And watch the latest episode of Glee. :)
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