When the Rains Come, You Run!

The Northwest drizzle. The gray clouds that roll in sometime in September and hang around through the first weeks of May. If anyone can handle rain, its me, a true NorthWest girl. I don't use an umbrella, rain coats are rarely necessary. About the only thing not up to pair with the weather is my bag. So, when we arrived in Kigali and were warned about the rain I smirked inside. They obviously didn't know me.

Witnessing a few light showers and finally a torrential downpour, I started to become a believer. However, on an afternoon when Kati and I were studying in Bourbon we mistimed our departure and were faced with the task of trudging home in the rain. Undaunted by this task, we donned our raincoats, threw on our packs and bid farewell to our questioning friends. Assuring them that we could handle the rain since we were from the Northwest, we proceeded downstairs making it as far as the threshold where we were met by the gaze of 20 Rwandans who had all taken shelter inside. Watching the rain pound the ground in unrelenting sheets, we rethought our plan and called for a ride home.

This rain was not to be messed with.