Rain in Africa

The song, "Africa" by Toto has been in my head for days, because the main line in the chorus says, "I bless the rains down in Africa, gonna take some time to do the things we never have."

It's been raining, and um, yeah, it's taking some time to do things here.

I get out of language class at 5pm...quitting time here is just the same as anywhere, and so trying to get home at that hour is just atrocious. It takes me an average of almost 2 hours to make the commute home at that time, when it's normally only a 30 minute drive by car at any other time of day. The metro is insanely packed, and while I absolutely hate being packed in like sardines, I've decided that it IS the better option.

It's 10 times cheaper (literally), and it's faster than a taxi that is stuck in traffic. (And going the long way so he can run up the meter.)

So yesterday, I get out of language class, and see that it is raining. Great. After a 10 minute walk to the metro, I am pleased to find that it is not that crowded, considering. I latch myself onto a girl my age, so that at least I'm pressed up against a woman instead of a man, and ride the three stops to where I need to get off.

When the metro pulls into that station, I couldn't hold in the "oh la la" when I saw the hordes of humanity trying to get ON a metro car. I pushed my way through all of them, so relieved that the station that I had originally boarded at hadn't looked like this one that I exited at. I don't know that I could have worked up the morale to push my way on in a crowd like that.

Walking through harder rain to my bus stop, I wondered if I would be able to get on the first bus or would I have to wait in the rain for a second bus. Here's where it got interesting.

There was a puddle about three feet wide from the curb out to the middle of the street. So most of the crowd waiting for the bus were on the curb; not wanting to stand in the middle of the street, and not wanting to get splashed from that puddle. I originally was on the curb, too. But as more women gathered in the street, waiting there, I thought to myself, "They're gonna get on the bus first. I should join them out there."

So I walked way down the sidewalk to the end of the puddle and then out to the street where all the women were gathered. However, when the bus started pulling up, it was clear that he wanted to pull over near the curb (into the lake-puddle), instead of out in the street where everyone could get to him. All of us women began scurrying back over to the sidewalk, so we could get find a spot in the crowd to shove our way onto the bus.

Everyone is waving at him to watch the lake-puddle and not tsunami wave us in rain water. When he finally pulled to a stop and started to open the door, the entire crowd is screaming so that the people who were about to jump off the bus don't jump straight into the lake.

I decide to live by grace, put that whole "look to other's needs before you own" thing aside, and shove my way onto that bus. What's that saying? "Come hell or highwater," I was getting on that bus!

There is a front door and a back door to the bus, and it doesn't matter which one you enter through. The back door, however, was far away from the curb so that the full width of the lake-puddle was preventing most people from getting on there. It seemed like the whole entire crowd was trying to push their way through the front door. I looked back, and saw that men were hurdle jumping the lake-puddle, and if they had a women with them, reaching out to grab her as they jumped and pulling her up into the bus.

I had no one to grab and pull me, but praise Jesus for long legs! I thought, "I can jump that puddle." I took two steps back, gave a great leap, and reached for the handle on the door as I neared the bus.

And I made it.

God bless the rains down in Africa. They sure make getting on the bus interesting.