Yesterday marked the first time this rainy season that it rained in the daytime. Prior to this, skies would cloud over, unbeknownst to us down below, lightning would fire up, and the winds would start howling, making you wonder if you were magically transported back to Kansas in time for a spring tornado. I enjoy these nighttime deluges because they do not inconvenience me in the least, except when I realize I need to go to the bathroom. Normally these storms would wrap up nicely by 2 or 3 am, allowing at least a little bit of peaceful dormir-ing.


Now, though, the rains start on up whenever they feel like it, which poses a problem with regards to actually getting things done. As in, anything that requires leaving the house.

The concession after a rainfall.

I may have alluded to this earlier, but Kandi - my post of 20,000 people - has exactly two paved roads, one of which is the highway. So you may imagine what terre rouge (dirt roads) turns into after a heavy downpour. A giant, caramel-colored mess. Sometimes there's just no way to avoid the puddles; plodding right through them is the only option. But then there's the fear of contracting schistosomiasis from standing water. Gah! I'm learning which spots on the path to my health center and to the social services center gather the most water. I almost feel like I'm an urban planner doing research. Really, I just wish they'd pave the damn roads.

Which reminds me....things I can change vs. things I should just accept already. This week telling the difference has been a bit of a struggle. Here are some examples:

• Igor, the three year-old who lives in my concession, cannot be silenced. He will continue to scream and act like a needy brat no matter how often I swear at him under my breath (and out of earshot). Upside: he is not my child.
• The rains will continue making walking paths non-existent. Plus side: rain = crops = happy Beninese people.   Also, it is no longer 115 degrees. Dieu merci. Seriously.
• There are never not going to be 75+ women and screaming kids each day at vaccinations. There's no slow season for births in Benin, apparently. Plus side: filling out health cards and weighing all those kids is giving me public health experience - and most of the time, despite the stress of working with my nemesis nurse, it's fun.

Despite everything, though, I really am happy here. There are days, of course, like yesterday, when I decided being alone for the afternoon was the best option (before saying something I regretted); most of the time, though, it's good. I learn something new every day, and this is certainly the most mentally challenging experience of my life; there's not much more I could ask for from a job - save for maybe air conditioning.

A toute a l'heure!