15 May 2019

The ceiling fan circles above, clicking and wafting waves of warm air. Kids play under the mango trees outside, crunching mango leaves under their bare feet and bike tires, laughing, yelling. Behind all of the usual afternoon sounds on the hospital compound, today a rumble rolls in the distance. A truck on the road? But it doesn't arrive or pass by; instead it builds and continues, stops, then returns again. Thunder.

No one can spend much time on the hospital compound in early May without hearing speculation about the changing seasons.

"The rain is late this year. This time last year I was mowing grass, but we haven't had a drop of rain yet."

"The mangos are late this year. This time last year the ground was covered in mangos."

"It's hot today. It was hot yesterday, too. Maybe it will rain tomorrow. That's how it usually goes--two really hot days and then rain."

"Feel that wind! The rain is coming."

"Oh yeah, that's thunder, but it might not rain. Sometimes it does this. Thunder in the distance, but no rain."

I don't know if it will rain today. I don't know when the rainy season will really start. We've had a few storms, enough to scatter puddles across the road, wet the sand on the compound, and bring a few hours of relief from the heat. But we still wait for THE rain. It's only May. The rain will come.

The rain will come and bring the rest of the remaining mangos clattering down the sheet metal roofs to land with a soft thud on the damp ground, and bring the mango branches crashing down on the same metal roofs.

The rain will come, and it will cover the roads with mud and water and deepen the grooves and potholes in the dirt roads that we navigate throughout the dry season.

The rain will come, and it will bring insects into our homes and hospital wards like a plague. With the mosquitoes, it will bring malaria.

The rain will come, and it will bring life to the grasses that have been lying dormant in the apparently-dead ground for months. On the other hand, it will bring death to some of our potential patients in faraway villages who are stranded by poor roads turned impassable by flooding.

The rain will come, and the land will turn green, and the air will turn cooler.

The rain will come, and it will bring relief and challenges, life and death.

The wind has picked up. The thunder still rolls. Still no rain.