4pm and raining again... While originally I wasn't sure if I liked it, I've come to expect the relief from the heat and burning sun when a good t-storm rolls in. And I find myself planning my day around these afternoon rains. Nothing important ever happens after 3pm. I'm starting to understand why my fellow campesinos tell me it is hard to have meetings, plans, or anything that implies puncutality and a schedule in the afternoon. No one likes to leave the house in a torrential downpour, and the "rivers" will flood and be impassable on foot. When we don't have water, I wait to do any chores until the afternon when I can use the water fresh from the eves to wash and bathe. The crux of the roof of the enramada and the house provides perhaps the best water pressure I've experienced in the country. Plus I save a trip to the trickling brook - my alternative source of water that I often collect from without thinking too much about its clarity and contents.
When the washing is done, next is time to sit, watch, and listen to the deafening drone of water falling on my zinc roof. This relentless noise is so distracting to any activity you might be doing, or conversation you may be having; it forces you to stop and soak up the calm of silenced campo noises and postponed activities...all overcome by the bullets hitting the rooftops. I am grateful for a waterproof home. The videos below aren't too exciting visually, but the sound provides a good example of how loud it is...turn the volume up.
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