Kenya rains

Until this week, our experience of rain in Kenya was limited to one or two misty showers in the morning. I was sitting in my first Kiswahili class after school on Tuesday, when a small rumble of thunder made its way across campus. Without further warning, the clouds let loose with a spattering of hail, and buckets of rain. It was difficult to hear our teacher above the sound of the rain pounding the tile roof above us, but only became more difficult when the electricity cut off and we could no longer see his mouth. All of us in the class have lived in Kenya for at least 2 months and are already accustomed to the frequent loss of electricity, so with no more than a blink of the eye, class continued in the dark. In a few moments, Rosslyn’s generator kicked in and the lights were back. Only the privileged few have that kind of luxury.

Kenya’s parched red soil was not quite ready for the sudden onslaught, so within a half hour, the road to our house from Rosslyn had sections of water at least two feet deep. Traffic in Westlands slowed to a standstill, and the roadways began to look like parking lots.

By mid evening, the rain slowed to a stop, and a few rays of the setting sun peeked through the clouds. As the drops tapered off, the air inversely came alive with a sound so incredible: low and high tones, pulsating, rattling, chirping. These are the sounds of the frogs. They were so delighted, and I imagine them thanking the Lord with their songs for the provision of rain.

Since that rain, the evening sun now welcomes the serenade, which lasts until the first hint of light begins to show in the morning. This nighttime cacophony even drowns the howls and barks of the neighborhood dogs. We have tried to capture a snippet of the sounds in a short video clip. Don’t worry that you don’t “see” anything…it’s a dark night with a few lights in the distance. We just wanted you to hear the new nighttime sounds of our little section of the world: