We had a heavy rainfall last night and all morning. I’m sure there will a whole season of this but it was the first after a winter with only four snowfalls in our city.
After my last class—a truly enjoyable one, full of sincere effort from some of the most endearing, happy boys—I stood out on the balcony of our new English class room. I was thinking about how much I love teaching at this school, and how hard it is to imagine that I could enjoy another group of students, teaching any other material, more than this. I was thinking about how I could stuff them in my suitcase, and just teach the same job, but at home in Canada! Which led me to think about how I wish I could take the mountains I was looking at home with me, too.
After the rains the clouds are heavy, still quickly moving, many different shades of blue, grey and even a dusty yellow (probably the Yellow Dust blowing in from Manchurian China) and formed in all kinds of shapes and depths. They are sunk low onto the mountain tops. When they are this low on our small mountains, it’s easy and exciting to imagine that if you could just find a tall enough building you could lean out a window and be in a cloud yourself. Or perhaps that if they somehow sunk just a little lower, you would be crushed by them right where you are.
To the northwest, dense, pure white fast moving mist is rushing up the mountain faces in Mureung Valley where water comes together in rushing torrents as it collects down the mountain faces. I imagine the Falls in the Valley are thundering today, a sight I have yet to see.
Under the clouds, the mountains have turned a slate grey blue instead of their wintry browns and dark greens. In front of me, there are a few small fields both tilled and freshly planted for spring, and also those still dressed in their dry, worn, yellow browns of last years’ leftover grasses and stalks.
In between is what most would call an ugly scene of construction, industrial bridges, factories, warehouses, and a the beginnings of the commercial harbour. But it seemed to fit in that at least it was honest. People doing honest hard work that is what it is, as opposed to the expanses of overly large, empty houses I know exist in some places back home, which are not the beautiful perfect buildings they try so hard to pretend to be.
I wished Ben was standing on the balcony with me to see this quiet scene together. I wished he could come teach with me here next year so we could stay one more year! But I know we will be very happy at home, and I am excited about that too. I will just miss my “boys” and the mountains.
