The Heat Is On

There was an awful lot of activity at the well this morning.  Learning to act upon this type of observation, and mostly mimicking the behavior of my neighbors, I carried my bucket outside to stand in line.  There was a slight breeze and the skies were light gray and partly cloudy, intermittently revealing the red-hot sun in the sky, the same way it appeared last night before nightfall.

 I figured everyone was collecting water on the chances it would rain later in the day.  I was greeted with comments about the drastically changing weather.  I noticed most had on sweaters and were wrapped in additional layers of capulanas.  Sweating at 6:30 in the morning, I stood there, trying as hard as I could to join them in their appreciation of “cooler temperatures".  Hesitantly, I smiled, my lips elastic and unsure.

It is all relative, I suppose.  In fact, this morning was cooler than the night before, and certainly not with the excruciating heat of yesterday.  The waves of heat, all anger and fury, hurled east across the continent from the Kalahari, had released its grip, at least for the morning.   The heat, like a captor, was allowing a brief reprieve before unleashing its exacerbating oppression, again, to its victims.

It is the strangest thing, and I have no scientific explanation, but in the very early morning, after a few hours of almost comfortable sleep, it seems as if the temperature actually increases, before the sun is up. It is the faintest beginning of daybreak and the heat is suddenly turned up. Then, when daybreak has settled solidly into the first few hours of the morning, the heat dissipates, just a bit.  Mother Nature extolls us, in our half-asleep state, pronouncing us as her subjects, demanding respect and servitude.

The air can be so heavy, making breathing as difficult, similar to breathing in high altitudes.  Any breeze is like a reprimand, covering my already over-heated body with a blanket of warm air.  I move slowly throughout the day.  Following all precautions, I have protected my skin with layers of sunscreen.  I wear a hat and sunglasses.  And, as crazy as it sounds, I cover myself in a thin shawl when walking to work as I often feel like my skin is burning.  I used to love the heat and sun and did all I could to bronze my skin.  Now, I hide from it.  Or try to.

I’ve been told that this heat will continue for the next two months.  Rains will follow this, monsoon flooding rains.  I am sure that as soon as I have learned to live with the heat, I will need to learn to live with the rains.