rain rain, go away

It is completely monsooning today, and so I feel it imperative to finally confess to you that my stay in Ghana is smack-dab in the middle of the rainy season. In one of our lovely 8:30 a.m. predeparture classes last term, Leslie assured us that it would likely only rain once or twice during our stay, and that as a bunch of Oregonians, we'd hardly notice the precipitation. This has NOT been the case. It's rained approximately 581058018 times (this might be a slight exaggeration). It rains when we decide to go to the pool and sunbathe, it rains when I have laundry drying on the line, it's rained at least once on both field trips ... sure, there have been plenty -- a majority -- of days when the rain has stayed away and it's sunny, hot and very African outside, but they are mostly during the week and, because of internships, we can't really take advantage of the good weather. Although, today is a weekday, and now I have no idea how I am going to make it home at 5 p.m. without getting drenched or swept into a gutter. Because the rains can be torrential, with big, golf ball-sized droplets, Ghana has installed these deep, wide gutters that are supposed to contain the rainfall, but still usually overflow. Most are between three and six feet deep, sit right beside the road, and normally stink of sewage. So, here's REALLY hoping that I don't find myself swimming in one today.

Of course, I think most of you are familiar with the Toto classic, "Africa" ... see where I'm going with this one, yet? I'm slightly embarrassed to share this story with you, but during our first week here, when our first rainstorm interrupted an otherwise pleasant evening pow-wow on the patio, we leapt feet first into the deluge, leaving the shelter of the porch, with palms and faces pointed upwards to greet the refreshing African shower (probably warmer than those actually in the house), and danced. Somehow, we all ended up in a circle, arms around each other's shoulders, rotating together and singing random, obscure, rain-related songs in poor pitch at the top of our lungs. Before I knew it, someone had grabbed a laptop from inside, and of course, within moments, Toto was blasting through the small speakers: "I BLESS THE RAINS DOWN IN AAAFRICAAAAA!" Because, you know, that's what we were doing, blessing the rains, and even if it was a cheesy song selection, it was utterly perfect at the same time. So, I'll concede that sometimes, the rain can lead to those romantic, borderline-cliché "study-abroad moments" that I'll never forget from this experience.

By now, the rain has actually subsided to a manageable, trickling drizzle. In fact, looking out my GSMF window, I'd halfway swear that I was back in Eugene, if not for the barbed wire spiraling on concrete fencetops and partially constructed but long-abandoned building skeletons that are definitely Ghana's own. If I had my rainboots and shell, I'd almost feel right at home.