I am learning to be careful what I pray for. After months of extreme heat, I wished and hoped and prayed for rain, and now it has arrived, days and weeks of it.
Yesterday in a bit of decided devotion, I got on my bike at 8:30 am in the pouring rain and rode to yoga class. Luckily I had thought enough ahead to bring a dry outfit because my pants were drenched when I arrived. I wore a rain jacket with hood so the water would not run down my back, but it kept blowing off so I tucked it under the top of my glasses which of course made the water run down the front of my face. I changed my clothes before class began and then lived through one of my most challenging physical experiences. By the end of class my teacher asked if the soaked tee-shirt was from the rain and I had to admit it was just from me. The humidity is something else and although the air is a bit cool I felt like I was moving in water without the benefit of buoyancy. When I arrived home I couldn’t resist demonstrating the final posture which was crossing one leg under the other and placing the top of that foot on the floor, then placing the other foot top on the floor also and sitting with hands pressing down on foot soles for some time, then slowly inclining forward until one’s chest met one’s knees. It was rather wonderful to see others in this graceful twisting (I fear to think what I looked like), but we were instructed to relax and breath and with each exhale to lower ourselves a bit more. It was truly amazing. By the time class was done the sun was out and I rode home through copious puddles with legs extended to the sides to avoid splashes. There is something about puddles that definitely brings out the kid in me.
So, today it is raining again. This feels far too much like Oregon. The amazing thing is: where does all this water go? There are not obvious sewer drains at every corner. I guess the cement/asphalt simply absorbs the water (some places much slower than others) and channels it to the cenotes (underground rivers of fresh water that filters though the limestone). We did notice, when we went to Cenote Azul last week, that there was a definite salt taste to the water which had not been there a couple weeks before. I assume the outlet for these fresh water rivers is the sea and somehow with the volume of rain there is a back wash. Interesante. Our back garden has a single drain that is quite full of earth and leaves, yet the rain does not puddle there. The ground is cement yet it absorbs the water and leaves nary a puddle. The walls are turning a bit green and I noticed yesterday, when I ran out to get clothes off the line before the rain started again, that the ground is getting green and slippery also.
In the corner of our living room, under the television, a puddle has developed. The first time we saw it I blamed the dog, but there was no smell or color and the amazing thing is that there is no dampness around the doorway or holes in the wall where cable wires enter. We mop the puddle and it reappears every day or two. Perhaps were are living atop a cenote that wants to reinstate itself. I did hear of, and saw, one corner of a hotel near the beach that is simple sinking into the earth. It was built upon a cenote and cenotes rule.