One winter in Malawi, in the inspiration of a torrential downpour experienced from an outdoor, tin-roofed kitchen, I decided that when I become a real grown-up, I will have a tin roofed shack specifically for enjoying rainstorms.
I don't know if that day has come, but I do now have a tin-roof porch in the concrete rainforest of Kinshasa. In the first big rain of the season, I climbed in my hammock, hung specifically for rain-listening and had only just leaned back when I realized that I was not only being poured on through gaps in the roof, but that I was positioned directly under a steady stream of mud
After flinging myself out of the hammock, determined to enjoy the rain, I got my umbrella (picturing the faces of all the presidents or dictators as the case may be, of DRC), went back on the porch and crouched in ankle-deep filth.
And that is how I spent my first Congolese rain.
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1 comment:
They make CDs for that kind of stuff :-)
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