barefoot and ankle deep

it has been raining outside my computer and outside my raincoat.

on some nights, thunderclaps jolt me awake to find lightning caught in the scarf that hangs as a makeshift curtain on my window.
these nights are loud but beautiful.
the mornings can be tough.

on friday, i wake up to a heavy downpour. i put on my board shorts, my raincoat, pack a pair of fresh underwear and a towel, then head out to school. i scope out the street in front of my building. flooded. no biking today. i decide to hail a motocy-man but two zoom past me with no intention to stop. i have 20 minutes left and am going to walk. but as i jiggle in slow-motion over slippery parts of the fake 2-inch-wide pavement, i know it will take me forever to get to school.

that's when i turn around.

i fish for my back light, attach it under my seat, hop on my bike and let the tires cut water.

it's hard riding a road-bike in bangkok because of 1)potholes, 2) the mound-like shape of roads that make the non-existent bike path side slope down unto large drains, 3) wide cracks where my slim tires get wedge-locked, 4) manholes on the side of the road that engulf the tires, 5) pollution and 5) ruthless motocy-men and cars that queue up in the daily "traffic jams" that define bangkok. when it's raining hard, it's even harder.

as i squint ride down my street, i see some other teachers from school walk under flimsy umbrellas, angry at the rain. their faces are warped in frustration. people in cars, huffing and puffing, looking up at the sky. walkers cussing at drivers that spray water with their tires. food stall owners squatting under awnings, thinking about all the business they are losing. tick tick tick tick.

then amidst all this grey madness, and the music of horns and bells and screams and thunder and rain, i see the morning monk under his black umbrella, with his bowl tucked in his right armpit. his simran robe hovering over the flooded streets, barely touching the water. barefoot and ankle deep. walking, slowly. with smiling eyes.

it is by far, the best morning trip to school. after i accept the rain and pay no mind to getting wet, i thoroughly enjoy my ride. even with mud streaks all over my bag, and legs, and face...

when i get to school, i am drenched. i get into the men's (because it's bigger than the women's) and change into my school-teacher outfit. and boy, ne'er hath a dry pair of underwear felt that fresh and good.