Part of last month and part of this month are the Japanese Rainy Season. I was told that it would rain, in some capacity, every day during this time. It didn’t. Up until a week ago it hadn’t rained once, NOT once! Needless to say, my foolish mortal hubris crept in and I starting mocking the God of Rain. Daito Massive said things like, “How ‘bout this rainy season? HA! HA! HA!” or, “Sure looks like rain, being the rainy season and all. HA! HA! HA!” and even, “Rainy season - shmainy shmeason. HA! HA! HA!”* Up until a week ago the rainy season felt like your average April in Ohio, only instead of pleasant to cool temperature it was stiflingly humid and hot. But, precipitation wise, it was pretty much the same. This all changed one week ago. Last Monday it began to rain a little. On Tuesday there was a Noah’s Ark-tian like downpour. I could not see more than a few feet out of the window. Wednesday – rain, Thursday – light rain, Friday – heavy rain at times. Saturday – rain, Sunday – heavy rain at night. Which leads to today, Monday, the day I came to respect the Rain God and not belittle his or her season. I walked to school in heavy rain. By the time I arrived at Family Mart (where I by the Daily Yomiuri everyday) my shoes were soaked and the water that had been seeping into my pants with every step had crept up past my calves. At Family Mart I bought a towel (because convince stores in Japan are actually convent) and the paper and continued to fair Tanigawa. By the time I reached Tanigawa my pants were wet up to my knees. The “gawa” (川 = river) part of Tanigawa had nearly over spilled its bank. I used the towel to dry off as best I could, but there is only so much a towel can do, the rest is up to evaporation. Which, given the humidity, my pants should be dry in about two weeks. I am half tempted to see if I could fit my legs into my clothes drier when I get home.
Being wet and humid really stinks. So I learned a valuable lesson. The Rain God is a petty jerk that can’t take a joke, but requires our utmost respect. We must respect him or her because he or she yields the power of great inconvenience, which is not as bad as death but a LOT more inconvenient.
*Note: no one actually said this, but I needed a third thing we “said” and this sounded the best, or worst, depending on how you measure this kind of thing.