Rain, rain go away

I love the rain in winter in Cape Town. The way it pours for hours on end. The noise it makes on the roof as I lie in bed, snuggled tightly between my wife and the duvet. The wonderful freshness it brings to the garden and the new clarity in the sky. The way our little stream swells in volume and rushes frenetically toward the sea. And the joy of life all of this water signifies.

I met two families this morning who do not like the rain. Families who fear anything from a simple shower to a downpour. The way water cascades through the holes in their roof and down their walls. How it seeps under the ground and emerges on top of their floor. How their meagre possessions suck it up, swell, shatter, and break. How their clothing, curtains, and shoes become soggy and rot. How they hope for this rainy season to be over.

I took photographs of their houses with my phone. Wondering how my current top of mind concern about a phone upgrade stacks up against the plight of people so poor and disadvantaged and hopeless.

I wondered if it would make any difference if more of us who have so much visited those with so little.  Of course it would, because one cannot help but be moved by compassion.

And perhaps this is exactly why we all stay away!