Friday, June 29, 2007

Hot Night in the City

It’s been hot all day.

Hot.

One hundred percent humidity hot.

When I walked out my door this morning I left home without an umbrella. But as I left I realized it was raining.

So I opened my apartment and grabbed my oversized overpriced umbrella for the walk.

But it wasn’t really raining. The air was so full of moisture that the moisture was pulling out and touch the ground. Earth that seemed dry and parched, but wasn’t. Air so full of water that there was nowhere else for the water to go so it felt like it was raining.

I kept the umbrella over my head for most of the mile to work, until finally with the sweat pouring out of my pours I realized how foolish it was. I was more wet from the just walking then I’d be from the nth of rain that might be falling.

I turned the air conditioning on in my classroom and taught classes.

I pretended not to notice when the students came in and complained of the heat.

It didn’t feel that bad.

I walked home carrying my oversized overpriced umbrella feeling foolish. It was foolish.

I got home and worked out and the sweat pored and pored. I felt old and tired and wet with it. I finally gave up and turned on the air conditioning in my apartment. It took almost three hours for me to feel any effect.

I listened to music.

I read a book.

Then I hear the distant rumble of thunder less then an hour before midnight. Thunder rolling in.

And suddenly the sky opens and it pours down the rain and I listen to it, and it is beautiful. I look out the single square window of my apartment and I can see the lightening flash and I rejoice. Here come the monsoon rains. I’ve missed the rains. Has it been a year already.

I open the door to the laundry porch and I feel the wash of warm heavy wet air. The rain has not broken the heat at all. It’s still thirty degrees around me, but now it’s wet with water that pours straight down horizontal in cascades.

I walk out my apartment door with my glass of tequila in hand, my hair braided up like Pocahontas, and a red bathrobe and nothing else.

I walk out my door in the dark barefoot and stand under the rain and it splashes and mixes with my tequila making the glass foggy and my breath comes harder.

The rains is pure and beautiful.

I suddenly feel pure and beautiful.

It comes hard and fast and heavy and I stand in it and rejoice.

And hope my landlord doesn’t come down the stairs.

Now it is moving past a bit, but it will still be there when I wake up in the morning. As the heat will be there, as my oversized, overpriced umbrella will be there, along with my wilting red bathrobe and Pocahontas braids.

Doesn’t matter.

It was beautiful.



*Written while quite inebriated. Unedited.

10 comments:

Ipsofacto said...

SaraDevil.

Thank you for showing us that it is possible to be (a) pissed and (b) an elegant writer.

This is something I've yet to achieve. Oh, and thanks for the heads up over on ts.com (i've had far too many people telling me that my last effort was not worth getting out of bed for).

And yes, I hate you. (I'm just kidding!)

Roger said...

Nice! where's the photo of that Sara ;D I am not a fan of humid hot days ether ..I think I would have be dancing around buck naked with a can of beer if I didn't think the neighbors wouldn't call the cops lol :D

kodeureum said...

I spent the monsoon morning trudging along from Watazumi shrine into town until the campground manager passed by in her car on the way to work, picked me up and turned around. She taught me the Japanese expression 'tsuyu' (?) which I think means 'big gobs of rain' on the way to the post office where I mailed my free souvenir postcards of Toyotamamachi.

I've got the same cedar-walled cottage booked for Chusok and the campground will probably be empty again. In September I'll have a campfire every night, roast tiny sausages AND marshmallows, and go skinny-dipping at the shrine under the full moon!

Saradevil said...

I'm not really sure having women discover you via ts.com would improve your chances.

I'm just saying...

Saradevil said...

Alright kodeureum, I'm officially jealous of your cabin in Japan. Glad to know your back though. I shall dutifully by you a drink on Wednesday if you would consider coming out to play.

And give details on this isolated, secluded lacking people campgrounds in Japan.

Saradevil said...

Roger, I left those pictures in my other silk bathrobe. :)

John C said...

Rain, tequila, bathrobe, nothin' else. "I'mgladI'mfaithfulI'mgladI'mfaithful". :)

::goosebumps but under control::

kodeureum said...

I'll be performing an original folk-rock operetta on Wednesday so any support would be greatly appreciated. I'm also putting together a brochure about Tsushima for a bunch of my co-workers so I'll be sure to reserve you a copy.

Saradevil said...

@JohnC

Nothing to worry about here. The spice of life is imagination.

@kodeureum

Your brochure would be much appreciated, as I need to get out of Korea more often. This is pretty much a fact at this point.

I will however be looking forward to the folk-rock-etta, probably with umbrella in tow. I'd say bells but it will be a lot of work, what with the rain.

kodeureum said...

I'm searching for info on Tsushima again and I keep on finding your blog! Ella and I are sailing from Busan Wednesday morning and returning Friday afternoon, one year to the day before I was there last year on my own. :-)