Cleansing Rain

It’s late Friday night here – almost Saturday morning. And I’m yet again rejoicing that this city experiences an abundance of rain. Though the rainy season is almost over, there is usually still a good 50/50 chance of rain at night.

It’s usually a calming and cleansing sound, but especially so when the sky has been yellow the past few days because of smoke blown in from the country side, where farmers are burning their fields after harvest. It took me two days to figure out why the faint but persistent burning smell was lingering, and also why people who have no allergies were suddenly suffering from allergy symptoms.

Unlike last time, I’m not walking through clouds of smoke, but it’s still a noticeable difference from city smog. I’m hoping for a clear blue sky in the morning after all the rain has captured and drowned the smoke.

My second week of university classes are done (and I’ve had four* classes total). However, to balance out that uneven load, I was able to meet with some friends of a friend who are students, and I am really excited about getting to know them better.

I may have finally figured out the real advantage of continually looking the age of a teenager and/or a college student! It’s much easier to blend in with young single women if you appear to be a peer. Also, since they have little to no interactions with married women outside their own community, they’re much more comfortable with young singles like themselves.**

I’ve now attended several parties (baby shower, wedding shower and birthday parties) and each time heard at least four languages being spoken. Tonight might have been my record – I believe there were six languages. What a small world we live in.

I’ve also met and been charmed by the young women who came to this city for school. They invited me to the cultural dance event they have on a weekly basis, and I went – and danced! Not well, admittedly, but Swing Dance taught me to not be as afraid of looking awkward, clumsy, silly or of trying new things. It was pretty amazing to watch a crowd of young men and women dancing to their traditional music without any prompting from older generations. They value the musical part of their culture and carry it as part of their identity. I think American young people could learn a lot from the way they confidently go out and dance – even if they have no grace or rhythm. It’s okay to be yourself, with all that entails.

And though my trip through their homeland came during a time of high tension, it was impossible to miss the joy and excitement they were expressing through their dancing in my city. I have been encouraged by getting the opportunity to talk and connect with them.

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*Four incomplete classes! One day cancelled and the other was a university orientation during my usual class time.

**This is a reassuring point of my being here, since during our trip out west, I felt the distinct disadvantage of being a single woman in that context and community.

The West, Part 2, More Pictures

The third city was quite beautiful, and we had the advantage of staying at a hotel close by the ‘old city.’ To give you an idea besides the photos, I felt as if I was walking into a National Geographic magazine. It was as dusty as the pictures looked. And also an amazing history lesson at your fingertips. I should have scooped up some of that dust to scatter into my notebooks, to have tangible proof that I have walked along paths that likely millions of people from centuries ago have walked.

I wish I had a blue door like this. Don’t you? Totally fashionable, and you would never get mistaken as a cookie-cutter house. That someone also painted the balcony a matching blue is just too cool. Can I live here? But I like rain (have I mentioned that yet?), so that’s probably out.

Just some neat architecture.

These people know how to do balconies. Can they be packed up and shipped? I’d also like a garden, if you could please fit that into the box too.

Is that my scooter? Well no, it’s not. I missed my scooter. My feet missed my scooter. However, I did get to walk around in some truly stylin’ footwear, which is not the norm for me. I’ll try to find a picture of me and my new sandals later. For new shoes, they were surprisingly durable and comfy.

And the juxtaposition continues. Old city, meet new city. They both look like rabbit warrens from this angle, to me*.

Cue cool bazaar photo:

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*One whole post without footnotes. I just couldn’t let it be.