And Then Mark Twain Said

Recently, like just yesterday, Africa suddenly decided to get cold. I don’t know who is in charge of this decision, or why, but they are very arbitrary about it, and it makes me grumpy. Over the course of just two or three days the weather will go from crushing, unforgiving heat with insane humidity, to explosive rain -- thunder that shakes your house and lightning that blasts across the sky. I always thought it was silly to be afraid of thunder storms before I came here. I mean really, how can they hurt you? I don’t think its silly any more. Thunder storms here make you think that the world is being ripped apart around you, and you can only hope to come out the other end alright. After the rain, the next day will be cool and cloudy, and smell like wet clean grass and mud, and then it can go in one of two directions – either the day will slowly warm up, and the week will begin to get unbearably hot again until the whole process repeats itself, or for no reason I can figure out the day will stay cool, and the temperature will just keep dropping. And then it will stay like that, and there will be a bitter dry cold that cracks your skin and makes you seriously worry about frost-bite of the fingers or nose. Last year I started making myself hard-boiled eggs for breakfast, not so much for the protein as something to put in my pockets on the way to school so that I could keep my hands warm.

So just about yesterday, the weather decided to get cold for the first time this year, and I found myself once again cursing the South African winters. Admittedly, its not as bad as the summer, you can always put another layer on in the winter, but in the summer there’s a point where you really should stop taking things off. What really struck me though, as I huddled under my blanket and shook my fist at Africa (which, as we all know, is supposed to be HOT) was that this is the third time I’d done that. On one hand, this means that really you’d think I would have figured out by now that this happens every year and I should get over it, but on the other – this is my third South African winter. My time here is almost over. I have three months left, and of those maybe this one and a week of next will be productive getting-things-done time. The rest will be packing up, saying goodbye, getting around to those visits and conversations I’ve been meaning to for the last two years – finishing up sorts of things. Its very weird to think about, so mostly I’m not. I know that three months really isn’t that much time, especially considering how fast the last 22 have flown by, but I think I got through that time by making a point of never focusing on the finish line – its much easier to think about tomorrow. Sometimes tomorrow is too hard, and all you can think about is today. So today I’m in town, and I’m researching the trip I’m going to take after I finish up here, and I’m trying to get funding and books for our libraries, and I’m buying a bottle of wine. Today I’m going to worry about today, and tomorrow can worry about itself.