The rains continue, and today the streets flooded, making my walk to lunch a real adventure. The clothes I hung to dry a few days ago are still outside, enjoying their extended rinse cycle. None of this, however, compares to what awoke me this morning: an indoor dripping sound. I got out of bed, thinking that I must have forgotten to turn off the tap the night before, which is normally of no consequence, since the water only comes out in brief bursts, and besides, it would go straight down the sink. As I walked to toward the kitchen, however, I couldn’t help but notice that my feet were sloshing in water even before I got out of the bedroom. I turned the corner and saw that the faucet was running into a basin that was, in turn, spilling onto the kitchen floor. Water was in every room of the house (granted, I only have three rooms), and as even underneath a couple different power strips on the floor! I quickly switched off all the power and shut the faucet, and then I spent the next hour and a half scooping up water with a dustpan and tossing it into buckets.
So there you have it: Kenya’s in a drought and my house is flooded and surrounded by rain. What kind of crazy place is this?