Rain – nothing unusual in the tropics during the summer. You can usually depend on a thunderstorm almost every day as the warm, humid air cools off. Yesterday we had a thunderstorm in the early afternoon and things looked like they were clearing up a bit, so Monica and I took an evening walk, stopping at a place in her old neighborhood for a snack. The little restaurant/bar had been nicely renovated and the service was typically Brasilian. Our server was attentive, but not intrusive. Monica bristles at the move-em-in, move-em-out service typically seen at restaurants near our home in the US. (a story for another time)
So there we were, enjoying a stupidly cold Skol (-5 C) when it started to rain. We were about a kilometer from home, down a huge hill, so walking home was likely to get a bit uncomfortable – especially since we didn’t bring the umbrella. We thought that we would wait out the storm and used that excuse to order another cold cerveja. No such luck – the rain seemed to become harder with every minute. There was no way that the rain could continue falling that hard – we weren’t worried. It would have to slow down. Right?
Two hours later the torrential rain continued unabated. This is no mere thunderstorm – it’s the type of rain event that calls for an ark. During this time, we noticed that pizza delivery from the little restaurant continued. I don’t know how much that kid got paid for driving pizzas through that rain on his moto, but it wasn’t enough. Perhaps I felt especially sorry for the guy because Monica’s oldest sun was delivering pizzas in the rain on his moto last weekend. He hit a big puddle in the dark and drowned his bike (it’s OK now).
At some point, I concluded that I had had waited long enough and decided that I would gallantly trudge back up the hill and return with our little rental car (assuming that it hadn’t floated away), so my wife could get home without a soaking. So, I drop my cell phone and wallet on the table and head out the door and up the hill.
I was as wet as I could get in just a minute. The rain wasn’t cold, but there sure was a lot of it. As I trudged up the hill in the middle of the street, the rain, which had long ago abandoned the puny gutters, rushed down the street and splashed up to my knees as if it was annoyed at being interrupted during its progress down the hill. Vision was a problem – I wear glasses all of the time, and the rain just coated them to the point that I needed to take them off. I remember wishing for a baseball cap. I finally got home – soaked but not too cold. I dried off, changed clothes and quickly drove back to Vila Mury, where I found that the biblical-class deluge had weakened a bit (isn’t that the way it always works?).
I collected my esposa, paid the conta and we drove home without event, where we listened to the rain’s force pick up again. Today’s local paper had an article about the number of mudslides in the area (Google translations aren’t perfect, but you can get the idea). The street that I use to walk down the hill to Avenida Savio Gama, the main street in Retiro, was blocked off this afternoon due to a block wall coming down the hill with part of the dirt. It rained much of today too, with the rain just stopping in the afternoon. From our friends at Accuweather…..
Summer in the tropics means rain.
Looks like it’s going to be comfortable, anyway. We won’t see any hot weather for a while.
I’ve got some things to do tomorrow. One of them is to buy a new umbrella.
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