Hello August. I find it absolutely astounding that we are already into the eight month of 2010.
I used to be quite amazed by the dogs that I would pass while out on my runs. They’re splayed out on the dakaroise roads without the slightest regard for the metal scrap heaps that pass as public transportation. Sure they make a token effort to stay out of the very middle of the street, but you can tell that if these strays really valued their existence, their heads would at least be facing the generous sandy shoulder. If I didn’t know any better I would have said that the streets of Dakar were peppered with many peaceful looking- yet dead- stray dogs.
Cue a fresh serving of empathy, newly-acquired as I return to reality and emerge from my first week back in Senegal….
It’s hot here. Il fait chaud. Da fa tang. That can mean many things in this country: increased power outages, crowded beaches, the inability to finish one’s ten mile run (ahem)…..but overall I would have to say that the elevated heat index simply sucks the life out of you. The dirt nap (no, I mean the temporary one) really doesn’t become optional once this kind of weather kicks in. I should know: yesterday I learned that the only difference between me and those admittedly cute dogs is that I can afford better real estate in which to place my overheated body on standby.
Yesterday. I sat in my chair, snapped this picture, and then my body shut down.
I’m not going to drone on about how hot it is. It’s hot everywhere, I get that. What I will say is that we have now supposedly transitioned into the rainy season. God is going to punish me for making this observation, but I simply haven’t seen any yet (apparently while I was slacking in Europe there was a lot of flooding in Dakar). I do love the rain, and supposedly it does wonders to tame some of the
chaleur (heat) that currently zaps our power grids.
In the past couple of days I have checked out the skies a few times after approaching storms were announced. “Cool!” I would think, readying myself for the impending torrent:
Here’s me standing on my almost-never utilized balcony. This one looked promising, but yielded nothing.
Yesterday at the beach, behind these kind clouds rolled some ominous ones that we watched while poolside. Yet nothing. Just hot and Megan sleeping. Or thinking about sleep.
I’m a New Englander, so when I was a kid we used to go skiing from time to time. I distinctly remember inspecting the first lift ticket that was ever attached to my hot pink and black CB jacket. It was to Gunstock Mountain, and it had the date and the following phrase printed at the bottom:
PRAY FOR SNOW ! ! !
I remember being somewhat struck by the three exclamation points: “Doesn’t that seem a bit unnecessary?” Sure, Gunstock’s reasons for writing that may have included a desire to bring in more skiers, but really I now think this lift ticket was spot on in its phrasing. Snow is important, and for me it is far superior to the heat. At a minimum I know at least the Senegalese dogs would agree with me.
Am I going home again for Christmas? You bet your ass I am.
