Posts Tagged With: weather

Reason #4 I’m becoming Tanzanian

I don’t go outside when it rains.

Nope, not gonna do it

Nope, not gonna do it

There, I said it.  I know I’m a dog and we’re supposed to enjoy frolicking outside no matter what, but I’ve got standards, and being wet and cold does not fall into those standards.  Yeah, so what if I’m supposed to poop outside.  You know what?  Why don’t you try pooping outside in the pouring rain and then tell me about it.  And even if you did do that, it still wouldn’t change my mind.  I simply won’t go outside when it’s raining, and neither do any Tanzanians.

I know I shouldn’t complain, especially since a month ago I was in the frigid arctic, but I hate rain in Africa.  It’s sort of the rainy season here in Mwanza, but what that means, I’m not exactly sure.  It hasn’t really rained since we arrived over 2 weeks ago, but last night and this morning made up for it all.

I was awoken out of a deep sleep by a frighteningly loud noise (especially since I was deep under the covers in mom’s bed).  It seemed that the sky opened up and dumped all the water in the whole world on us for the next 8 hours.  It was so loud I couldn’t even sleep, and I can sleep through anything!  There were also bright flashes of light, mom calls this lightning, which made me even more scared (which really isn’t saying much because I’m literally scared of everything).

Lightning!

Lightning!

So the rain fell and it fell.  And when the rain comes for that long it makes a big mess here in Mwanza.  You see, our roads are mostly dirt and so they get puddles and holes and sometimes even become rivers themselves.  Sometimes it’s so bad that it’s just not possible to get anywhere because everywhere you look is gushing water.

Roads become rivers

Roads become rivers

 

Normally this is a road...

Normally this is a road…

They have giant gutters on the side of the paved roads to try to help the rain/road situation (in fact, that’s how mom sprained her ankle on her birthday, by falling into one of the giant gutters).  But where we live, there’s no paved road and no gutter and so the rain just flows freely.

These gutters get totally full when it rains

These gutters get totally full when it rains

So here’s what happened this morning, we got up like usual and I was excited to go out and do my business, but the minute mom opened the door, my plans flew out the window and I ran straight back to bed.  Like I said, I DON’T poop in the rain.

Go out there? You crazy!

Go out there? You crazy!

Then mom, like she thinks I’m stupid or something, calls me in her best singsong voice.  But I’m no dummy, I know a trick when I hear one.  So I stayed put there on mom’s bed and didn’t come like the good dog that I am.  But darn it, my mom is persistent.  She came and picked me up and tried to make me go outside, but I struggled and cried and in the end I won (like ALWAYS).  

Nope, still don't want to go out there

Nope, still don’t want to go out there

Get it through your head mom, I DON’T POOP IN THE RAIN.  Look, even Twiga has something to say about it:

Brothers united, We're Not Going Outside!

Brothers united, We’re Not Going Outside!

Oh and in case you forgot, I’m Tanzanian now, and I don’t go out in the rain.

End. Of. Story.

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December in Tanzania

Well, it’s December here in Tanzania (and I’m assuming in other parts of the world too), which means I’ve been in Africa for a year!  A YEAR!  That’s a doggone long time!

Last page in the calendar

Last page in the calendar

This is a picture my great-grandma painted for my mom and gave to her for Christmas last year.  But G-G, what’s with all the white stuff, and the clothes, and the tree?  I’m confused since that’s NOT what December looks like in Africa.  Nope, it’s sunshine and nice weather all the time here, in fact.  Look here, just last week, with the sun in my eyes:

I'm not even wearing a coat!

I’m not even wearing a coat!

There’s Christmas songs playing and they really confuse me.  “It’s the most wonderful time of the year…”  But the WHOLE year is like this, it’s ALWAYS wonderful.  I don’t get it.

Although, I did overhear mom talking to my grandma and she said that the main reason she likes Tanzania is the weather and the nice environment it provides for me, which must mean that these things are different back at “home”. (I refer to home in quotes because New York may be “home” for mom, but Tanzania is “home” for me).  Now I’m all worried and stuff because I also have heard mom making plans about bringing me “home” for Christmas and how I’ll be in for a big shocker.  I’m scared, REAL SCARED.

But at least mom is trying to make it festive here in our tropical wonderland.  Mom’s friend Colin, who is now in my ginger posse with Twiga, brought her some stockings from America.  Together they decorated them, one for her and one for me.

Waiting for our stockings to dry

Waiting for our stockings to dry

I don’t entirely understand the concept of a Christmas stocking, I’ve never had one before (FYI, big fail on your part mom, for not getting one for me last year!)  Apparently, you hang them up and then Santa comes and leaves gifts in them.  Now that is an idea I can get on board with.  Gifts!  Treats!  My favorite!

We don't have a chimney, but we do have a wall

We don’t have a chimney, but we do have a wall

Unfortunately, mom thought it would be fun to play dress-up with the stockings and since she is bigger than me, she got me into some unfortunate, compromising positions.

On my foot, why??

On my foot, why??

On my face, why??

On my face, why??

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On my head, WHY??

On my head, WHY??

After all was said and done, I figured I could look ridiculous in the stockings for five minutes if it meant that I would eventually get treats out of the deal.  And we all know how much I LOVE my treats!  Bring on the roasted pig ears!

So, to all you folks stuck in frigid temperatures back at “home”, I scoff at your weather…

Temperatures below 80, pshtttt!

Temperatures below 80? Pshtttt!

…but please, pretty please, be kind to me when I get “home”.  And don’t make me go outside!

 

 

Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

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