As I am writing this the rain is pouring down. Just sheets of water. I went out in it earlier and was soaked before I got out of the third door. Now, as rain usually shuts the city down, I get to enjoy the morning in the cooler temperatures, sitting on the balcony, listening to the rain. Rain doesn't happen often in this country. Maybe 5 days out of the whole year will have rain and the accumulation is less than five inches annually. When I started learning about this country, I found the lack of rain a bit concerning. Even after spending four years in Colorado, I wasn't sure I would enjoy living in a country that was so dry. I love the rain but I have found that most of my friends and students here don't. It causes the plants to be green, the air to be cleaned, and the streets to be full of mud and sewage. The country isn't really built for rain. The infrastructure is built at sea level and the plumbing system is very old. Rain means the streets will flood, potentially for days. In the city, the sewers overflow, shops are closed, and buses are reroute. Outside of the city, travel stops as flash floods can wash roads away or the swollen waadis can be unpassable. So I can understand why they may not want to dance in the rain as much as I did. Even knowing all the destruction, I can't help but love the rain. As I was trying to explain this to a friend, I found myself repeating parts of a poem I wrote back in university. 'the sun demands Happiness But the Rain doesn't care it will cover your fears, shame, misery, wash away your burdens Rain is hope and growth it cleanses the Spirit while wrapping the body in a blanket of privacy it sooths, whispering, "Nobody can see your tears." it holds your hand while You pour out your soul and when You can cry no more, Rain will cry for you better than a brother, more persistent that a friend. it takes away the sting and leaves a sense of newfound Wholeness.' Rain comes in different seasons. At home, rain comes in the spring. Then we get one or two thunderstorms in the summer and more rain in the fall. Here it usually rains to announce the changing of the season as well. It rains and then it get hotter. So it will rain now and then warm to the low to mid- 30s (in Celsius). And then again in June and warm up into the 40s, the true summer. But rain comes in other seasons as well. In seasons of busyness, the rain comes heavy for days. The constant drumming sound on the roof makes it hard to hear anything else. There is a level of stress at the sudden change of plans and the idea of being trapped. But in a way it soothes and calms. Everything shuts down. What was to be a busy weekend becomes a day sitting inside. We can't leave the house. It's a lull. A chance to catch your breath. The rain in seasons of nostalgia is a drizzly kind of rain. It dampens the earth and cleans the air, but it doesn't shut everything down. It makes me think of sitting at home in the big window, looking out over the green fields as buds begin to form on trees and bushes. The air carries more smells when it is wet: wet concrete, damp earth, newly grown plants, flowers. Inhaling the familiar, memory-laden scents. In seasons of hope, there is new growth. When there is a heavy thunderstorm and the rain comes down in sheets, there is a peaceful, hopefulness about it. Despite the odds, it inspires a kind of reckless prayer that the rain would do all the unreasonable, miraculous, hopeful things you would expect rain to do. It would suddenly make the country green and lush, wash all the dirty and harmful things away, and clean the air until all that was left is what ought to be. A fresh, unburdened breath. Right after the rain is a unique time as well. The roaring of the rain quiets. The birds start making sounds again. People emerge from buildings, their voices wafting through the still air. Children's laughter sound above the splashing in puddles. The sky seems extra blue and clear. The sun comes out, but it's softer than usual. The edges are softer for the moment. Soon the humidity will hit and the temperature will rise. Soon the puddles will become stagnant water and reek. The buses' horns will be blaring. People will be shouting. Life will continue but for a few moments, maybe an hour, at most a day, there is a change. There is a joyful starting anew after the rain