No School: Rain Day

This morning I awoke to my phone alarm, which was going crazy for a second time. I hadn't heard it 10 minutes earlier, apparently because it had been completely drowned out by the heavy rains pounding on the tin roof of my room. That's right! If you were picturing me sweating in unrelating, dry heat, you've got the wrong picture, because I've arrived smack dab in the middle of the rainy season. And when it rains, it pours! The tin roof accentuates the clatter impressively. To give you an idea, when I had my friend Ruth over the other day it began to rain so heavily that I was honestly screaming at the top of my lungs and she still could hardly make out my words!

So today, against this soundtrack, I groggily got ready with the aid of my solar lamp. The morning sky was still fairly dark, especially with the rain, and the power was out. It felt earlier than 6:30, and the rain made the thought of heading to Village Altonodji for my first day of one-on-one training feel a little more daunting than it had been the previous night. I took breakfast in my room before Mama Christine called me to come greet some of her friends in the living room. Packed and ready for school, I did so. I sat in the living room for quite a while as people passed in and out. Eventually I must have dozed off in the chair, because I heard my host mother tell me to go take a nap while it continued to rain. I was surprised that it was an option to simply not go to work while it was pouring, but I had been really dubious about how most people, who don't have cars like my family, were expected to get anywhere with only a few paved roads in our vicinity.

I awoke an hour later and decided, as the rains finally subsided, that it was not in the cards for me to go to school at all today because nobody was mentioning it. I asked, and my host father, Samuel, assured me that no one else had gone in due to the rain. However, it certainly didn't seem like anyone else's lives had stopped on account of it. Mama Christine came into the house in her beautiful yellow dress, totally soaked from head to foot from her motorcycle ride to the market, which she told me was as packed as ever.

No matter, I had a free day as I have had almost every day since my arrival. Today felt special, I think because there were enough little moments that just clicked, meaning they felt comfortable, nice, routine. Not a total guessing game!

For the remainder of the morning I hung out at home. My host sister, Mary Rose, is my age and home for about a week more before going to West Africa for the year. She currently has malaria and wanted to sit with me and learn English, so we spent some time going over the alphabet, colors, and important common phrases including such classics as, "I am sick" and "I am a strong, independent woman."

Following that, I sat outside with Bené, a girl who I understand is of some relation, but has been taken in by my host parents to help around the house. We officially broke the ice last night when I taught her how to make those cute string friendship bracelets, and we spent hours working on them together. Today, we sat on a mat on the covered porch and peeled dozens and dozens of little root vegetables that are called yam-somethingorother. There was a lot of giggling involved when we would loose grip of the vegetables and either drop them in the water or fling them into one another's laps.

Somewhere during the process, my host sister brought me an outfit of hers: a long sleeved shirt with a wrap skirt and headscarf. I tried it on and modeled it, much to my family's pleasure. They had me wear it all day.

As the day went on, it involved eating a lot of good, hot food, a few rides on the back of Mama Christine's motorcycle on errands and visits, and a lot of peaceful lounging. Even when there is nothing to say, it's amazing to me how much my hosts and I can find to laugh about and connect on. As Mama Christine and I were sitting on the porch in the evening, waiting for our chicken to cook, I started humming to myself the tune "We Are Marching in the Light of a God," which I knew from childhood. To my surprise, she casually began humming along. It turns out she recognized the song from a church choir! As we sat, singing a familiar song and laughing as the night set in, I definitely had one of my first feelings of being at home in this new place.