It’s hot. I hate to write a post about the weather, but this is seriously all anyone here can think or talk about. Imagine Houston in the summer. Or Oman or Bahrain in the summer. Without air-conditioning. The thing is, it’s hard because everything is always air-conditioned in those places. Here, few places are. I’ll try to illustrate a little bit how hot it is here.
– I sleep with all the windows and my bedroom door open, with very little clothing (I know, why not no clothing – it’s a toss-up…door clothed and no clothing or door open and little clothing), my hair tied in a bun on top of my head, with a fan blowing on its highest setting directly on me. I have to sleep on my back and try not to move. I still wake up in the middle of the night or very early in the morning, sweating.
– When the power went out in the middle of the night the other night, I sat up in bed gasping for air because I felt like I was suffocating in the hot, humid, still air. I went into the living room, which is cooler and tried to sleep on the couch. If you knew how tiny and uncomfortable (uneven palm wicker with thin cushions) the couch is and how many mosquitoes are in the living room, you would understand how desperate I was for some slightly cooler air.
– The first thing I do when I walk in the door is take off my watch, earrings, and glasses because I can’t stand the feel of them on my slimy skin (I know, why put them on in the first place?). Then I take everything else off to take a cold shower and change into dry clothes. Ten minutes later I’m dripping again, but at least I smell a little better.
– By noon I can’t stand the feel of my skin, which fluctuates between sticky and wet.
– By 4pm I can’t stand the smell of me (not BO but more like my first graders when they came in from recess in Houston).
– By 4pm I also can’t stand the feel of clothes on my body. Sadly, in the office there is little I can do about this.
– On Saturday morning I walked to a café to meet a friend for breakfast. The normally 20 minute walk took me 30 minutes because I couldn’t move any faster. I then, idiotically, ordered tea and sat in the shade and dripped for an hour and a half.
– I must remember to carry a washcloth with me to church like all the Mozambicans. I could prevent my shirt from getting soaked through like it did on Sunday. And the most energetic thing I did was clap.
– I can’t remember the last time I touched the hot water tap on the shower.
– I’m dripping as I type this at 9:30pm.