In Nakhon you know when the rain is coming. The merciless sun disappears and for a few hours being outside is bearable. The wind begins to pick up, tossing the navy skirts of the girls’ uniforms as they walk between classes, laughing with their friends. You can hear it first far off in the distance, bouncing off tin and tile, getting louder and louder until suddenly your inside the sound. And it’s raining.
Unlike my students I love the rain. Maybe it comes from growing up in a desert where rain was always a welcome novelty. Maybe because it’s a good excuse to stay home and bake something sweet. Wherever it is I love the rain- the intensity, the coolness, the way it gives everyone an excuse to stop running around and just hang out.