4.01.2003
-Rain-
It was odd, the way that the scorching sunlight filled sky could also be such a grey and wet one in the mornings. I heard the rain on the tiled roof as I lay in my bed, the sheets soaking up the moisture in the atmosphere in an unpleasant manner. I closed my eyes while listening to the sounds of the household around me as Elisabeth coaxed Anna into eating her breakfast. Of course, all of it was in Laotian, so I didn't understand anything apart from the odd shouts of exasperation from Elisabeth as she called out Anna's name. I played with the white flower petals that Elisabeth had carefully strewn on my bed the night before, crumpling them in my hands before finally getting up to take a cold shower.
Downstairs, Elisabeth had flung open the doors so that the house showed off its four columns and wooden panelling decorated with the patterned silk scarves Elisabeth's in-laws had given on her wedding day - "They're not for sale", she had said, when I had first asked her, ignorant of their heritage. The rain was still pouring down, and Anna was dressed in a yellow plastic raincoat as she walked up and down next to the black rooster in the small front garden. Despite the storm clouds, it was not dark, but the air was filled with strange light which had somehow managed to filter through.
"Did you sleep well? Are you hungry?"
Elisabeth asked, looking up from the paper book she had been sewing. These were beautifully textured papers sometimes made with petals and leaves which she made herself in the neighbour's garden - I had seen it the other day, when the local children gather around to see the spectacle of several dozen boards containing coloured papiere mache dry. I had some rice and vegetables which her husband had cooked in the kitchen next to the open living area, whistling and moving around slowly on his lame leg. I sat down on the worn rug covering the wooden floor to read the copy of Graham Greene's 'The Comedians' that I had found in Elisabeth's eclectic selection of books she had brought from Prague. The rain continued to noisily fall on the roof.
Elisabeth was adding on small but perfectly formed pebbles onto the cover of what would be my photoalbum for the many rolls of photographs I had taken of Luang Prabang. I could see she was trying to hide the design from me - "It's a surprise," she said, as she covered it with a white cloth whenever I walked past - so I stayed on my side of the spacious room, listening to the rain falling on Laotian soil while reading of the heat of Haiti. I knew that after noon the sky would clear up to a brilliant shade of blue and the temperature would rise to the dripping point so I savoured this quiet, calm interlude.
The steady beat of the rain continued, only occasionally interrupted by the sound of Anna shrieking with the other children as they played in the small path outside the house.
...it rained heavily in the morning...