When it rains in Honduras.

Rain has always been one of my favorite things. Who doesn't love an excuse to wrap up in a blanket with a hot cup of tea and watch as the lighting strikes and the thunder follows? Living in a tropical environment the reaction is not the same. Today after spending just under an hour at the super market browsing the shelves for familiar foods with my exchange student friend, we decided on a box of cheddar mac and cheese. We went back to my house and put the water on to boil. The sun was shining through the windows and the temperature was just below uncomfortably hot. By the time we put the pasta in the pot the sound of raindrops began on the tin roof. We both knew what this meant. Ella (My friend from Belgium) quickly grabbed her bags and ran down stairs to hail a taxi home. The sky had rapidly turned into a dark void of black clouds quickly over taking the last bit of blue skies. Seconds after Ella found a taxi the rain came down in full force. There isn't much time to react to the rain, it comes in a matter of seconds. The roof was shaking and the noise drowned out the sound of the bad Spanish soap playing on the TV. I stood there stirring my pasta listening and watching in awe of the force of the rainstorms here. The thunder began and car alarms started to go off and dogs began their barking. I thought I had gotten used to this regular occurrence but as a loud clap of the thunder echoed through the house I couldn't help but jump. The lights shut off and the room was eerily lit by the fire of the stove and the last bit of lingering sun the clouds couldn't block out. I managed to finish cooking the mac and cheese in the dark and I sat down with a steaming-hot bowl and a blanket, watching through the windows. I was safe and dry in the house and I was more then thankful as I watched the people scramble through the streets looking for cover. The rain continued and I knew soon the river through the center of town would rise and the regular flooding would begin through the streets. The maid came into the living room and checked the ceiling for leaks. Seeming satisfied she put away the armload of pots and pans she had just in case. Just as quickly as the rain came, it was gone. the silence was strangely unsettling and the distant thunder began to slowly fade. Another "tormenta de lluvia" in Honduras, the roof is intact and I am dry. I would call it a success.