The madness began literally two minutes before I was intending to leave, just finished a private English lesson. At some point I had been planning to use the only half hour free I had during the day to go the market and get fruit, but that was clearly not going to happen.
In fact, me going anywhere was kind of a sketchy proposition.
Usually the madness calms down after a bit, but this time it only got stronger, as if this time it was feeding off its own fury. The raindrops were literally striking the buildings, the air turning gray from its force. Though I had been sitting on the balcony, the rain invaded that too, riding in on the wind.
We fled inside. I was intending to just wait it out and be a few minutes late. In the meantime there was food, some kind of chicken curry cooked in banana leaves and red rice, a fruit salad with mango, banana, lychee, and various other goodness. So we munched, and stared at the rain. I attempted to text a couple of my students to tell them I was going to be late -- unnecessary, as it turns out, they were all later than me.
At some point I decided that the rain was not going to stop anytime soon, and pulled on a borrowed flimsy yellow plastic poncho and headed out to brave the rain.
The sky was literally falling.
The streets were flooding, everywhere, intersections turning quickly to lakes. My bike made a perfect wake in front of me, spattering my shoes with warm water. The drops were accosting my face, only held off when I used one hand to pull the hood further in front of my eyes -- but doing so involved steering with one hand, so I used this power with great discretion.
I ran home, shuffled about trying to figure out how to get my backpack off without taking off the poncho, and grabbing a full change of clothes, before tearing out again and heading directly back into the madness.
By the time I got to Cambodian Living Arts, the streets were seriously flooded, and I hit a lake of at least six inches deep at the intersection. I didn't think it was possible for flip flops to be as wet as mine were when at last I arrived, dripping wet and what wasn't from rainfall was from sweat from the plastic poncho.
Of course, the vast majority of my students were late, choosing to make the trip after the madness at last died down. But I figured, I'm the teacher, so I'm kind of obligated to at least try to make it on time.
With all of that said -- between the water hitting my feet in huge sprays, accosting my eyes, the sound of it attacking the rooftops ---
Well of course it was fabulous.
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