War and Rain

War and Rain

Denver is High Plains. Sukhumi is sub-tropical. They are very different.

Right now I am experiencing the wonder of summer sub-tropics - but exactly what does “sub-tropics” mean here? Sub means below, so does it mean that Abkhazia is below the two great tropical cities St Petersburg and Moscow???? I wonder whether the writer of the article I read before coming here describing the climate in Abkhazia as “subtropical” has actually been here. If I were writing I would say the climate is cold and wet in the winter, hot and very wet in the summer. That’s it. Forget the subtropical stuff.

Oh, who cares. It rains. And when it rains here in the sub-tropics, it really rains. And what is nicer than awakening to a soft rain, that soon turns into a thunderous downpour, complete with lightening that of course shuts down the electrical supply for hours or days. And never mind that last night it was one of those scorching inferno nights, where, as we sat on the terrace celebrating Jasco’s (Japanese nurse) birthday we were all sweating and laughing and recalling the events of the day. And now, it’s morning and those who didn’t shower last night are eager to shower, but there is no water…..well except the roaring sea down the street or the gazillions of droplets coming from the sky. There is water, it’s just not coming from our showerhead.
Oh well. Another day. More Rain. No electricity. No shower. Floods in nearby villages.

Comments on change:
Our Field Coordinator (MSF “boss” for Sukhumi) decided to leave. In addition we have reduced two positions in the national team due to down-sizing. Change.

And when there is change here, there is increasing tension that more change is just around the corner. That is what happens when you live in a place where war has dominated the undercurrent of reality. Reality here is that “what has happened is likely to happen again”. A little bit of war or rain (change) often turns into a lot of war or rain ( more change). These “realities” are rooted in natural, understandable reactions to real events in the lives of the Abkhazians. Relentless war is real. Relentless rain is real. Change is real and causes real problems.

And so we live with our Abkhazian colleagues, their tensions and reactions to these staff changes, knowing that they are asking who is next to leave? When is the next power outage?
When will the next war break out?

And I who know little about war on my homeland, (except Gettysberg, Shiloh, Pearl Harbor) touching my life, wonder why I struggle to understand the reactions of those in the midst of cruel, unintelligible actions against innocents and those who want to protect the innocents, war.

As months go by I listen, see, feel, and begin to know more about fear, despair, hope, how it is rooted in human experience, a new kind of beauty.