The
summer rains have set in this week, and I am starting to feel a bit water logged. It is not much different than what it felt like living on dads boat one summer in toronto, or sailing up the coast of Brazil or the time Mum and Dwight took Marissa and I to florida. Everything is damp. Bedding, cloths, seats in the vehicle making for a soggy bottom. It doesn’t dampen my spirits, while it would be nice to be building my tan so I don’t stand out so contrastingly white against my south african friends, I still can’t help but foolishly smile while I take in the sweet smells of wild sage and lemon and the Mopane scrubs in the air and laugh out-loud every time we dip the bonnet of the truck into a huge crossing and the water pours in. I can not understand why this pleases me so, perhaps because it’s exactly what one is not supposed to do. Which leads to me to tuesday afternoon. After much rain all week, the sun broke through, it was glorious! We all dropped what we were doing to get sweaty playing a game of badminton then go for a swim in our local watering hole, the river crossing just up the way from camp. Yes you read that right. Everything that everyone told me not to do, we did. We walked bare foot in the mud and still standing water (with the truck following close behind in case there was a need to quickly jump in) and swam gloriously in the cool water. Are there leeches? I ask hesitantly. A few, I get answered rather nonchalantly from the gang. Any crocs? I ask hesitantly. Probably not, answered again rather nonchalantly. Probably not, hmmmmm. At this point I figure that if Andy is ok with Rio and Keita swimming and walking. Then I figure I will be just fine. It’s cool and lovely and the sun is setting behind us. Once again I sigh and smile at the beauty that surrounds me and the feeling of the cool clear water on my skin.
The summer rains have set in this week, and I am starting to feel a bit water logged. It is not much different than what it felt like living on dads boat one summer in toronto, or sailing up the coast of Brazil or the time Mum and Dwight took Marissa and I to florida. Everything is damp. Bedding, cloths, seats in the vehicle making for a soggy bottom. It doesn’t dampen my spirits, while it would be nice to be building my tan so I don’t stand out so contrastingly white against my south african friends, I still can’t help but foolishly smile while I take in the sweet smells of wild sage and lemon and the Mopane scrubs in the air and laugh out-loud every time we dip the bonnet of the truck into a huge crossing and the water pours in. I can not understand why this pleases me so, perhaps because it’s exactly what one is not supposed to do. Which leads to me to tuesday afternoon. After much rain all week, the sun broke through, it was glorious! We all dropped what we were doing to get sweaty playing a game of badminton then go for a swim in our local watering hole, the river crossing just up the way from camp. Yes you read that right. Everything that everyone told me not to do, we did. We walked bare foot in the mud and still standing water (with the truck following close behind in case there was a need to quickly jump in) and swam gloriously in the cool water. Are there leeches? I ask hesitantly. A few, I get answered rather nonchalantly from the gang. Any crocs? I ask hesitantly. Probably not, answered again rather nonchalantly. Probably not, hmmmmm. At this point I figure that if Andy is ok with Rio and Keita swimming and walking. Then I figure I will be just fine. It’s cool and lovely and the sun is setting behind us. Once again I sigh and smile at the beauty that surrounds me and the feeling of the cool clear water on my skin.
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