It has been almost a year since the start of the pandemic and now I get to spend the rainy season back at home. We tend to take things for granted until suddenly they are slipping away from us. I used to miss the smell and the sound of rain. Living in an apartment for almost five years starting in Surabaya and then Jakarta, I think rainy season is just not the same.
Staying on the 26th floor of the apartment, you’d know that it’s raining only if you see outside of the balcony as the rain drops fell onto the balcony floor or the sound of gusting wind through the window in our laundry room. It felt strange though. You couldn’t hear the rain drops on the roof and you couldn’t smell the distinct odor of soil when it rained. I used to miss these senses.
Now I’m home again.
It has been raining for almost two weeks with occasional strong wind. I know that the wind will pick up and blow stronger this time around until mid-February.
Our roof still leaks. Sometimes the water flows down the wall of our kitchen when it’s raining really hard and the wind is strong.
The road in front of our home is flooding again with a big puddle of water. We had to line up sandbags in front of our gate to stop the water from flowing in to your yard.
On the other day the absorption area for the rain water near the water tank couldn’t accommodate the constant down pour of the rain anymore and the garage was inundated. Thankfully, the water dissipated quickly.
The feeling is familiar.
Now I’m home again. The image of Jakarta is fleeting away.