February 28^th, first rain of the season. Nice smell, wet grass, a dash of wet dust too. It will clean the streets a bit. It will create havoc for some who live on the street or in the blue tents. To us, it’s selfishly nice. It will lower the temperature a few degrees, though it is not yet scorching hot. I like the night showers the best but will have to wait a few more weeks. One night in May last year, I wrote:

“It’s pouring rain. So hard. The drapes are swinging away with the wind trying to invade our house. The doors are slammed shut. It’s loud on the balconies. The cats went into hiding. The temperature dropped 5 degrees in 5 minutes. It smells fresh and dusty at the same time. Thunder sounds like a steamroller over massive bubble wrap, or as if the gods are dragging heavy furniture in the sky. Pre monsoon at 2:30 am. It will last a few minutes and then we will only have puddles as memories. The temperature just dropped another 5 degrees since I started typing this. This is magical”.

I am looking forward to that again.

The farmers, across the security wall covered in broken glass, tilled the red soil today. At dusk, dozens of birds were eating their snack of worms. Farmers should be happy, rain means one less chore for them. From what I can see from my third floor terrace of our new home, their houses are made of concrete. Why am I thinking of the Three Little Pigs right now?

I made a new friend. Or is he a nuisance? We have switched the noise of construction work for that of much nicer, yet still loud, birds. I was looking for the creature that was chirping louder than the others and found the cutest little squirrel singing his lungs out. He may be a chipmunk, I will have to check. He was going at it as if his life depended on it, and maybe it did. It lasted quite a while, the entire time the plumber needed to fix whatever was wrong with some pipes. New house means new problems, but I have learned the art of patience. For now.

We have moved into our new house.  It’s called “shifting” here.  We left the sterilized world of expat compounds. We are still in a compound, gated, twice gated even, with guards, but I think we are the only foreigners. The house is bigger, yet cheaper. The water does not smell of rust anymore, and the marble floors are so polished and shiny, they squeak. We are quite isolated from the main roads and I will have to learn to ride the scooter, and get my license. The 1.5 kilometers to the main road is too long a walk when summer comes. Or anytime! We are discovering new faces, finding new places for our daily lives, are the object of stares from new people and are still waving at everybody.

The kittens have explored every nook and cranny and are now content. So are we.