Rain and Rebirth

no. 14

Today, we watched the movie Paddington in Peru. The boys had seen it with Grammy the week before we arrived, and now it was available to stream. I made popcorn, as I always do when I watch a movie with the boys. I was amused by Hugh Bonneville’s character, who works at an insurance company that assesses risk. Considering the Amazon and the giant tarantulas, he deems the risk too high for him, although he eventually comes around. Most days, I wonder about the risks of untreated water, parasites, mosquitoes, and sub-par travel conditions. I miss the security of strapping my kids into car seats, knowing they are contained when we travel from place to place.

Trini walked along the kitchen floor, splashing water out of a bowl. "What is she doing?" I asked Leifer, because I had seen others do it too. Leifer told me that before sweeping, they splash water on the floor to avoid kicking up dust into the air. Trini changed the covers on the sofa and put down a new bright blue plastic tablecloth. Leifer and Trini pulled everything out of the kitchen cabinets, tossing expired items and reorganizing. We had ceviche for lunch. I wondered if it was a special occasion because at home, we only serve ceviche at parties. The lime in the ceviche was absolutely delightful. I ate it even though fish, especially raw fish, often doesn’t sit well with me. Better to take the risk, I rationalized, when we're at home and I know the chef. The corn kernels are gigantic. I pick them off one by one, handing them to Lucca or putting them directly into his mouth. Eating lunch is the highlight of the day. I look forward to when we all sit down together and work stops. Most days, we have too many at the table, but somehow, we squeeze in.

I woke up in the middle of the night with itchy feet and hands. Because of all the animals around here, Leifer and I suspect there may be fleas. I have small bites that itch like crazy. This morning, when I woke up, my ankle was swollen. Leifer thinks it’s a spider bite. I put cortisone cream on it and try not to dwell on it. I can get so caught up in my problems. As I sit here writing, gray clouds roll in, and I hear thunder. The rain is on its way. The world keeps turning, despite my worries.

Tia and Abuelita are working in the garden. Leif grabs a pickaxe and takes it to Abuelita. She rests momentarily on a chair and says something to him that I cannot hear. Leif comes over, asking, “Mom, is it okay if I use this?” I reply, “Well, what did Abuelita say?” “I don’t know, she speaks in Spanish,” Leif tells me. “Ask her, está bien,” I say. Leif walks over and asks her, and Abuelita nods her head yes. Leif starts working side by side with Tia Julia. Next, Enzo walks over to Abuelita. I can see her gestures as she talks to him. While I don’t hear specifics, she is telling Enzo not to bite Leif, which he had done earlier in the day. Enzo picks up a pickaxe and starts working with Tia as well.

The thunder is growing much louder, reminding me of Texas rainstorms. I can’t see the lightning; I can only hear the thunder. I walked to the line where our clothes had only begun to dry. Our clothes have been caught in the rain before, and now we will pull them down and wait for the morning sun. It’s not the dry air that does the trick; it’s the sun. Meanwhile, Monserot is looking for a rat. Leif is busy planting the tortuga, or lechuga, as his tia gently corrects him. I looked up at the sky just as there was a flash. But two seconds later, there was a rumble from the sky. I remember learning how to measure the distance of lightning as a kid. The rain starts pouring. Leifer always tells me he likes the rain because it cleans everything. It also forces you to pay attention. The boys put on sweaters, and I move my chair under the eave. I am glad we arrived during the rainy season. Abuelita was worried about us taking the bus through the muddy mountain roads, but we had no trouble; the skies were clear for several days leading up to our ride. Abuelita sits under the eave, wrapped in her sweater, watching the rain. At the end of a long day, it’s good to sit with contento corazon while the rain provides natural closure.