Weeping Walls

Last night it rained again. Which means the wall above our bed started flooding. We were out at a friend's house for dinner when the storm hit, and I don't think it is scientifically possible for rain to fall faster or harder from the sky than it did last night. I'm in love and humbled by thunderstorms here, yet they cause an enormous amount of death and destruction in Kinshasa every time they hit. Including, on a very tiny scale, our bedroom.




There were little rivers running steadily downwards, and bubbly pockets of water under the paint.

The walls were so saturated that they flooded the floors, and we filled half a bucket with rainwater from wrung out towels.




Last night we fell asleep to the steady drip, drip, dripdripdrip of water falling from our walls into plastic tubs. When I got up this morning and stepped on one of the towels we left out overnight there was a lovely squelching sound. Our room smells like stagnant rainwater.