It’s 3 o’clock in the afternoon and the girls are bouncing around, hollering in their beds napping. Rain is pouring down from a dark grey sky. I couldn’t have a conversation if I tried for all the water beating the tin roof. There is something wonderful about a West African rain storm. I love them. Love. Them. It rains about 17 feet in 6 months in the capital; half that in Kola.
There are many great things about rainy season in Guinea. The sun isn’t so scorching, for starters. Everything turns green, and we have more electricity because of the hydro-electric dam.
And then, there are the not-so-great things about rainy season. Primarily the mold. It’s everywhere. Mold grows on everything from walls to clothing that doesn’t dry properly. And the roof leaks. There’s water damage on our kitchen ceiling that needs repaired:
Our roof is leaking, and David can’t find where the water’s coming in. Bummer, since I just repainted it last Tuesday. David climbed up on the roof yesterday to plug the hole, but can’t find it. (He also came back with a tale about fighting off a giant spider… I’m not sure I believe him.) I have one ear listening for the ceiling to come crashing down from the weight of the pooling water. There’s also an animal living up there. It scurries around at night after the light’s been turned off. I sure hope he doesn’t come crashing into the kitchen too. Pray we find and can patch the leak before the rain ruins our ceiling!