Well, this is shaping up to be a pretty rainy rainy season here in Bali. This has varied over the past seven years. Our first year here in Bali, 2010, saw little rain at all. For that reason, having never been to the tropics, or, indeed, outside of America (except for a couple brief trips to Canada), I had the happy, though false impression that this would be the normal course for the weather here.
I found out differently during the course of years 2-7. Rainy season in Bali generally begins in October or November and extends into the early spring. One will very rarely see a day of constant rain; rather, the rain gathers itself in dark, swollen, bulging clouds, the air becomes tense with a breathless, suffocating humidity, and then the heavens break loose in buckets and tubs and tanks of water, assaulting the earth with a certain inimitable fury (a bit like my wife’s temper). But it is a short-lived fury, generally exhausting itself within 10-20 minutes, lifting just as suddenly, as if a switch had been thrown — on, off. The sun creeps back into view, poking tentatively between the fleeing clouds — like, Holy Cow, what was that all about?
The same show will play perhaps two or three times a day. Motorbike drivers, constituting the majority of drivers here, will have hurriedly pulled to the side of the road to don their (supposedly) rain-proof smocks, and at the end of the fit, will stop once again to shed their smocks, and find themselves pretty much as wet with sweat as they would have been with rain anyway. A number of vehicular accidents will typically have occurred, testifying to the general unwillingness of the common Indonesian motorist to understand that the oil and dirt on the dry streets will have become as slick as snot in the rain. Other untoward circumstances may occur as well. Tree limbs, unaccustomed to the wind and the pelting of the downpour, may break and fall. I know, because I was hit by one in the midst of a typical rain storm a few years ago — not a stick or a flimsy branch, but an entire part of a tree. This, of course, knocked my motorbike over as well, spilling me onto the street. In fact, two of the three accidents I have been involved in occurred during a rainstorm. The answer to this danger, as I have concluded, anyway, is to simply stop and take shelter in the nearest shop or warung, and wait it out. Because the alternative — that is, falling off your bike and hitting the street — is a distinctly painful one, and best avoided.
Now, during the time it has taken to write these lines, the full fury of the storm has passed and diminished to a light sprinkle, with blue sky already peeking through the clouds. Another five minutes will bring partly sunny skies and the streets will quick-dry as fast as you can say The rain is Spain falls mainly on the plain. Some, as I say, will have had an unpleasant encounter with the pavement. Many will find their laundry, which had been hung out to dry, fully soaked and in need of re-washing. Dogs and cats will have enjoyed a rare bath, and rainy season will proceed; for here, as with every clime in the world, the words of Mark Twain ring faithfully true; to whit, Everybody talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it!