Yesterday's rain began on my way back from M'Pessoba market. As usual, I had spent the whole day chatting with Murv and Greg - Sunday's our day to meet up. We usually get into M'Pesso around 10 am or so, go make a trip into the market (I buy food for my host family), then go hang out at Boua's boutigi. Actually, two boutigis (general store type places), both run by men named Boua. We leave our bikes with Boua Diakité, a twenty year old kid who runs a store for his father selling shoes and clothing, and then usually spend most of the day with Boua Coulibaly, another young man with an adorable stutter and a jovial temprement. Yesterday, we spent all day sweating at Coulibaly's boutigi. The heat has been worse lately, and I've finally felt like it's the hot season. It has gotten to the point where even if you don't move, you just sit there sweating. It's really not possible (or at least recommended) to leave M'Pessoba and bike home until the heat breaks, around four or five in the afternoon. Yesterday we traded gossip and joked around until 4:30 or so and then set off back home.
I had just gotten out of M'Pessoba on the paved road when I saw it - a great mass of red dust straight ahead of me. It was cloudy when I left M'Pessoba, but I hadn't imagined that it actually meant there was a storm coming. As I biked, the wind grew stronger and stronger and sand began blowing in my face. I tried to continue on, but had to stop and face away from the wind. For ten minutes or so, wind and sand beat at my back and then - rain! Rain came, just a little, but it was definitely there. A few minutes later, the storm eased and I was able to bike home. There were puddles on the paved road, and I as I rode through them I watched drops of water leap to the side as my wheels cut trhough them with an acute satisfaction. I hadn't seen thes phenomenon in a good seven months.
When I returned to Ferme, I was presented with the aftermath of the storm: magoes. Everywhere. Unrip ones, knocked down by the wind, dotted the main road through Ferme. I had to get off my bike and walk it the rest of the way home to avoid running over mangoes.
When I got home, I took my camera and went for a walk. I met my friend Mama Wedragu at her house. She lamented the fact that so many mangoes had fallen unripe. Usually, they fall to the ground when they're ripened, May or June, and the villagers go out with baskets iand collect them to eat or sell. Even the animals roam the village, looking for mangoes.
In the aftermath of the storm, the villagers had run to pick up the few ripe mangoes, so by the time I set out on my walk, most of them had been collected. I found one small mangoe, the size of a plum, and took it with me to the other end of the village, where a mangoe tree had been torn in half by the wind. A few village men were busy chopping the rest of it down, a group of children gawking at the spectacle.
Eventually, I made my way back to my house and took my evening bucket bath before heading over to Drissa and Jelika's for dinner and conversation. The village cheif's daughter came over and chatted with Jeilka while I worked on studying for the GRE. As it got late and was time to leave, it began to rain again, a little at first and then pouring so I had to run home.
The rest of the night it rained and rained. It was raining when I woke up and now it's really cloudy and cool. My yard is a mess, full of broken branches and unripe magoes and puddles. Some really big puddles
