Storm Clouds Roll In...

Real ones. No metaphor here. Last night the sky opened up like I didn't know could happen here in Sudan. We heard the wind first, howling through the exhaust fans in each of our three bathrooms. Wailing, in fact. (Check here to see my son's reaction to the wind :) Lightning like strobe lights. Thunder like bass drums. I shut all the bathroom doors, quieting the wind a bit. Unbelievable amounts of water kept pouring from the sky until water began seeping through the wall, creating a large puddle on my child's bedroom floor. Making him think the building would collapse, "But Mommy, the water is coming through the walls!" I told him to be thankful that we lived here, and not in the crude tent in the middle of the dustfield-turned-lake beyond the building walls that houses a family with small children. But he was more worried about where the dogs would go in this torrential rain.

And then al kehraba gatat. The electricity cut off. The apartment went black except for the green emergency light. Talking Pokemon with his Daddy on Skype distracted Jib for a while, but sleep was tough with howling winds and no fan or air conditioner. Thank goodness for the new battery in my computer that holds a charge for more than five minutes.

My baby finally fell asleep and I was able to enjoy the storm. I love storms. Love watching lightning crackle across the sky and feel the thunder rumbling. And the cool air on the balcony was heavenly. Sitting in the dark on my couch, I heard a tapping at the door - my neighbor coming over to get a light and join me for a smoke.

After the rain stopped, I layed in bed, sticky and uncomfortable, hoping for sleep to come quickly. Then, wonder of wonders, talking and the sound of the generator starting up. Al7amdulila. How lucky to live in a building with a generator. Lights came on and fans began spinning all over the apartment. I got up, grinning, and turned them all off. Cut our bedroom air conditioners on, plugged in my almost-dead phone/alarm clock, and drifted off to sleep.

Morning was rushed. Overslept. Got to school to find most classrooms flooded. But the crew was on it, squeegeeing water out the doors and hanging rugs and cushions out to dry. Day was fine. Then I went home.

I'll admit driving in to the mud was stupid. But I really thought the water wasn't that deep. And it wasn't. But the mud underneath the water was. And once I drove into it, there was no getting out of it. First gear, reverse, first gear reverse... Chunks of mud flying into the air and onto my windshield, and me sinking deeper and deeper into the mud, going nowhere. I sat there. Shrugged my shoulders and looked around for help.

Construction workers smiled and laughed at my plight. Look at the silly woman who drove into the mud and is stuck. Back up, they gestured. Um... yeah, tried that. I played the role of the helpless woman (which actually wasn't a role at that point) until they took pity on me took off their shoes, rolled up their pants, and stepped into the mud to lift and push the car back onto drier land.

Grateful is not a strong enough word. They hung around me for a minute, one saying he wanted cigarettes or something. Ramadan mafi? No Ramadan? Meseekheen. Christians. I handed him a 50 pound note and told him to get something to share. And said shukraan about 1000 times. They danced and smiled as they climbed up into the construction site to get back to work. They looked as happy as I felt.

A clip of me driving home from the supermarket down the street.

And then one of the guys washed the mud from my windshield and door. And I drove around on the drier path, slipping and sliding still, until I was safely inside the building walls.

Al7amdulila, al7amdulila. Home again.