This is the monsoon. The rainy season. The Mighty Mekong is swollen like a muscle.
Yesterday, all day Sunday, there was no water in our house. The great cement tank in the garden was empty and the pump was turning on itself. We had to go to the neighbour’s yard to fetch washing water, and when you shower out of a bucket you realize how little water you really need and how much you really use.
At about midnight, the torrential rains started once again. Wonderful thing here is that in the monsoon it usually rains a little then stops, usually at night or in the early morning. The rest of the time the air is clear and refreshed; the vegetation is lush and generous.
When the rains started I was tempted to go outside and take a tropical shower. Then the lightning started and I changed my mind. There is no insulation under the roof, so when it rains the sound of it is direct and immediate; relentless.
The first time it happened we all ran outside onto the veranda and watched the rain design halos in the garden. The space around us was filled with a white as bright as pearl.