The Rainy Season

The low, deep rumble of thunder groaned as the dark clouds churned in the sky like a stirred pot of burnt popcorn. The crisp breeze was swiftly seeping through my open window and laying on my skin like a blanket. My hair folicals stood at attention, and goose bumps popped up where sweat had just been oozing. Immediately my focus was averted from the "weekly forcast" for my upcoming science class, to the life giving forcast of cool showers ahead.

At first the rain just spattered and spit, lifting up the red dirt, leaving only a sticky path and dusty air. But as I made my way to peer through the window at my sopping clothes being ripped off the line, I caught a glimpse of the coming of the rainy season and its might. My iron sheets screamed in excitement as the water pounded on the roof in metered rhythm; new drumming that will add a beat into the steps of the villagers. The first rain is celebrated, but the tireless work awaits.

The oxen are led out of their makeshift stalls as the moonlight fills the dark hours of early morning. It's time to plow and plant, so that the wet earth opens to the buds of germination; so that the maize can be cultivated and sold; so that the people can fill their stomachs and be energized to work through the hardships of one more day. My students (and I) get up at 2am to help in the fields. They're usually overworked and underappreciated, but they're still expected to trudge all the way to school at 7, and prepare for the upcoming examinations. Their life quite literally depends on these tests, but food is a pretty obvious priority as well.

The moisture has already greened the area and fruit trees are dropping sweet, gooey mazuku fruit by the wagonful. The women have gathered enough to sit and nurse the orange nectar for days. And if mealie meal runs low, bush fruit is always a good subsitute for nourishment. I'm spoiled though and my students bring bulky bags to my doorstep. Though my newly inherited bike has led me out to some prime grazing territory, I'll accept the gifts even if they're bribes to help them study. It seems like a worthy cause.

But though the term is basically over for me in terms of classroom teaching, a new season begins. The learning will continue as I proceed to unearth the ever novel and evolving fruits of my new home in Nakeempa.