Soaked

Yesterday I experienced one of the classic Maseru experiences – getting caught in a snap thundershower. It is the rainy season in Lesotho, and due to a series of topographic and meteorological conditions I do not understand, whenever we have serious rain here (about once every two days) it is accompanied by the most incredible lightening shows I have ever seen outside of the Nevada desert. The locals are decidedly blasé about them, only getting aroused to chuckle at my exclamations when a sheet of lightning bolts lights up a full quarter of the sky. Truly beautiful, though I do not look forward to getting caught in one while doing a mountain top hike.

I had ample opportunity to enjoy the show when I decided to walk home from the office yesterday. “Decided” is perhaps a strong word, as at the end of the day I had found myself alone in the office with only six maloti (~93 cents US) in my pocket. Earlier in the day I had been out to visit one of the area clinics that we are planning on of adding to a DHL-based sample transport network. Currently one of the three staff members will strap samples to her back and catch a series of taxis and buses into the central hospital where they can do various blood analyses. Not the best system, particularly because it means the clinic operates at 2/3 capacity much of the time. Until the transport network is set up we are subsidizing their travel costs, and because I did not have the chance to file a requisition or hit petty cash before heading out, I anticipated giving them the money out of pocket and then getting reimbursed by the end of the week. Actual costs being slightly higher than I had previously calculated (what a surprise), I found myself with six maloti in my pocket at the end of the day. [Note: As a mugging minimization effort I do not carry a wallet and normally have the equivalent of only about US $20 on me at any time. That is more than enough for daily food and transportation needs but little enough that I am more than happy to part with it gracefully should someone the need occur.]

Normally a quiet trek of around thirty minutes, about ten minutes into my walk a nice fellow sidled up to me and warned that the rain was coming quickly. Surely enough, five minutes later (that period being just long enough for him to describe his agricultural scheme requiring “just a bit of capital”) the storm hit. Within a few seconds I was soaked. Normally people do not run outdoors in Maseru (the exception I have seen being high school age boys at night wearing full track suits), but a few people were hurrying for cover, and I took that as circumstantial permission to jog home without committing a major faux pas.