junio: Rainy season

It is the rainy season in Cuernavaca. Typically the rains start in late May or early June and they bring a relief from the heat of April and May. It is beautiful and I love them. More often than not, the storms roll in at night and I can't help but think that the rain pelting my window and the sound of soft thunder in the hills is Mother Nature's form of a percussive lullaby. It is the perfect weather to sleep in, be lazy, curl up with tea or coffee and a sweater.

I laugh at myself and my silliness - I blame the rain.

I set my alarm for 7:00 and wake up to a cool, damp and cloudy morning. I can't resist the temptation of more slumber and I reset my alarm for 7:20. I wake up again and find that it is still cool, damp and cloudy. Well, ¿por qué no? I can sleep a little longer... how about 7:30... eh, I'll make it 7:35 just to show my gratitude to Mother Nature.

Cuernavaca is a city of hills and ravines and concrete. There is no where for the rain water to go but down the slopes of the sidewalks and streets. There is no grass boulevards or lawns to soak up some of the water. We are left with racing rapids where our roads used to be - ankle deep rivers and lakes take over my walking routes. I get quite wet this way. My shoes often end up soaking wet and I come home with pruney feet. I love the moment when I confront one of these lakes or rivers when there is someone else on the other side - we typically share a glance of "Oh shit. What do I do? Is there a way around this? Not without back-tracking and walking a few extra blocks out of my way... Oh to heck with it. I'm going to get wet. Here it goes..." and I take that big, conscious step into my soaking-wet destiny. Normally the other person laughs, then follows suit.

Recently, I woke up to aguaceros. An "aguacero" is a bout of rain that comes down so heavily it becomes impossible to distinguish the drops, everything blurs into a constant blanket of rain. It was that seriously poring rain that makes me think that God and Mother Nature decided to get together for a prank on humans and dump buckets of water on us to watch us scurry around. Or maybe one of them just won an important, divine sporting-event and the other dumped the Gatorade cooler of water on the other in typical celebratory fashion without thinking that we just happen to be the ones getting soaked.
So anyway, it was raining when I woke up and it was still raining when I had to go to work. I debated calling the school and not going so I could stay home, curl up in bed again and then wake up later to relocate myself to a reclined position on our couch with a steaming mug of tea or coffee. After a mental debate of all the reasons why I want to stay home and all the reasons why I can skip, I finally ended with this internal dialogue: "Ah, yes. Maybe I just won't go. Ah, no. I can't skip. It is my responsibility to be there... arg, darn responsibility. I'm not sick and I don't have anything else that I would do with my morning; I can go to work. I will go to work."
So I went. I fashionably rolled my jeans up in that oh-so attractive way so that about two inches of my ankles above my socks were visible. I put on my rain jacket AND carried an umbrella. I then tied plastic bags onto my feet (yeah, plastic grocery bags). I was a real stunner that morning, probably the most attractive woman in Cuernavaca if not the world. In fact, I think that Gucci wants to use that look in the next season's line.
Anyway, I said a prayer and left the house into the river running down our alleyway and I was so proud of my ingenious plastic-bag trick that was actually working. My tennis shoes were still dry even though the water was at least a few inches deep! I was smiling and proud of myself until I squished onto the bus and the driver took one look at me and then laughed at me and my ridiculous get up. My smile disappeared and I felt even more stupid and self-conscious as I walked down the aisle and every-other person in the bus also took note of my plastic bags. *sigh* I sat down and hid my feet under the seat in front of me.
At one of the subsequent stops, an attractive man boarded the bus sopping wet as if he got confused that morning and got dressed first and then took a shower in his clothes. I mean, he was completely, utterly, and thoroughly SOAKED. But he was also one of those attractive men that knows that he is attractive. I imagined him thinking, "I can't be bothered to wear a rain jacket because, duh, it doesn't look good on me and show off my physique the same way that this sleek, leather jacket does. And I can't hide this face under an umbrella because then how will people know that God, in all his generosity and goodness, gave me this face with impeccable bone structure and dazzling eyes. No. I will just get wet and be uncomfortable all day. But beauty is pain. Additionally, I consider it almost my duty and my own magnanimous gift to others so that they can witness how attractive I am. My attractive self will bring sunlight to their rainy day." I thought, "What an idiot. I may have bags on my feet, but I'm dry and happy." My smile returned and I wore those plastic bags proudly for the rest of the morning. I was especially excited when I crossed another road-river and every other pedestrian wound up with soaking shoes and one man commented on my smart idea saying that he has to do that next time! Ha. Take that, silly attractive guy on the bus.
You want to know the kicker: only two kids showed up at school that morning, so we sent them home and school was cancelled.