The Storm

First came the pollen then the rain.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009.  Anne and I had just finished discussing the particulars of our Ewe language lessons and were prepping to return to EDYM Village, Anne via a tro-tro, me on the back of Paul's 125cc one banger.  The first thing we saw was a wall of white dust coming from the north.  This dust, which obscured all in site, turned out to be a cloud of pollen that we have since learned forecasts an impending storm.  The next thing to strike was the fast low flying, pitch-black, clouds guided and funnelled by the mountain that backs Have.  It then started to rain, rain soon turned to water literally pouring from the sky in sheets, to a borderline hurricane.  The wind, racing down the centre of Have, was deafening and terrifying in a very real and "Oh my God, I am so small" kinda way.  It came howling down the main road threatening to rip anything and everything in its path apart.  It's a complete wonder that all the shanty houses, of which Have mostly consists, weren't torn from the ground and tossed away.

We, and a few unfortunate pedestrians, sheltered in the concrete walls of the library to wait the tempest out.  The rain lasted the better part of an hour in which time the road was turned into a river and visibility reduced to less then 30 feet.  The sound of the storm was as intense, if not more severe, than the wind.  The whole event felt so primal; savage.  Everything here does.

The storm finally abated and Paul hailed a tro-tro for Anne while I collected myself for the motorcycle ride home.  I almost had to hold my breath and close my eyes for fear as Paul tore down the slick streets as though they were smooth and dry.

The events of the last hour had pulled down a large tree and felled it across the road which would have forced us to stop had not a group of young men, in an effort and zeal so contrary to what I have so far experienced in Africa, sawed the tree in half and cleared the debris before we even arrived at the obstacle.

The tree wasn't the only damage that the storm had caused and this was evident on the ride home.  In many areas I could see the remnants of what used to be thatched roofs strewn along the ground of the now flooded villages along the side of the road.  The storm seemed not to phase Paul in the slightest and I can only assume that it is a common occurrence during the rainy season.

We caught up with Anne and passed her on the long dirt road into the farm.  We barely recovered from a slip in the last 20m to the door but arrived without incident and I jumped off the back the bike thanking both Paul and God for a successful return.

- Sam