TEM Lab: Rwanda – RD Tech

CARRIE’S STORY

I still don’t know why I woke up. Perhaps it was because the rotary fan blowing in my room was failing to prevent my sweat from penetrating my pajamas. Or maybe it was because the sound of the rain falling on the corrugated plastic skylight in my bathroom was so loud I thought it might shatter. It also could have been the flashes of light that periodically filled my room only to leave the darkness even darker.

Whatever the reason, I awoke in the kind of daze where the world seems more like a dream. Disoriented and a bit unsettled, I wiped the sleep from my eyes as I swung my legs over the side of my bed and reached for the light switch on the wall.

“Water?! What the….”

As the light came on and my eyes focused, I took in the 2-inch deep river of brown water streaming past my bed and over my feet. My heart started to race as I tried to gather my thoughts. You just don’t expect to wake-up in the middle of the night to be surrounded by quickly rising water. As I pulled up my pant legs and stood up I noticed that my computer lay helplessly on the floor gasping for breath, drowning under the runoff. I quickly jumped into action, diving for the computer and pulling the power cord out of the wall without recognizing how wonderful an electrical conductor I would have made at that very moment. Luckily, I escaped without a shock and as the water continued to pour in through the crack under my door I tried to perform CPR on my poor Mac, but to no avail. When it wouldn’t start, I turned my attention to the quickly rising water and went to get help.

“Rob. Rob, wake up. The house is flooding, and I’m freaking out.”

Out of a deep slumber Rob arose to beckon me into his room. With blurry eyes, he looked up and asked me to reiterate, but there really was no need once I turned on the light and he noticed the advancing water on the floor in his room.

“The house, it’s flooding,” I exclaimed. “My computer was on the floor and now it won’t turn on. Where’s your computer? Is it on the floor?”
“No. My computer’s fine. Turn around,” he said as he hopped out of bed dressed only in his favorite mauve undies. Apparently, even in an emergency Rob doesn’t lose his sense of modesty or his respect for women. He threw on a pair of shorts and we ran out of the room to find the source of the water. As we came to the front seating area we noticed the door to our guest house had been dislodged from the force of the raging water, allowing the runoff to pour in at a fast rate. Rob propped the door shut, which helped to slow the stream of water, but we still found ourselves ankle deep in the results of the tropical deluge. As we took a pause to assess the situation, a flash of lightning shone through the window, followed instantly by a roaring crash of thunder.

I could see the alarm in Rob’s eyes as he instructed me to get rubber shoes and stay on my bed out of the water. There was no time to explain, but it was clear that the man had experience with lightning and wasn’t going to take a chance with Mother Nature’s wrath.

When the lightning was no longer at our doorstep, Rob and I got out of bed, rubber-soled shoes strapped on our feet and went to meet Boniface, the night guardsmen who was waiting patiently in the downpour at the front of our guesthouse to lend a hand. Upon stepping outside, Rob the consummate thinker, must have noticed that the drain in front of our house wasn’t working efficiently, so he pulled the filter out, which helped divert some of the water. The two turned their attention to the drains inside the house, and attacked them with the same kind of problem solving. With the drains open, the water started to dissipate and they focused on funneling the water towards its new passage.

Meanwhile, I went to the main house to grab a squeegee from Mike’s bathroom to help with the water cleanup.

“Uh, Mike? There’s been a flood in our house and I need your squeegee,” I explained as I knocked on his door. A bit confused, he told me that it was not a problem and asked if we needed help. I reassured him that we had the situation under control, and he could go back to sleep. Sure enough, no more than two minutes after I returned with the squeegee in hand, Mike was at our door, wide-awake, and chomping at the bit to lend a hand.

So, the four of us cleaned up the guesthouse as Jules, our client and host, worked outside in the rain creating a channel for the water to ensure that the floodwater wouldn’t reach the front of the house. You may ask, what happened to Chadd? Through the three-hour-long commotion he turned over once, grumbled in a half-man, half-bear voice something about helping and fell back to sleep once he got the “all-clear” from his buddies.

The house is back to normal, except for a brand new five-inch high curb in front of our landing. And, we’re all hoping – especially me – that after some good drying time my computer will start again. At the very least, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that I can save the contents of the hard-drive when I return home to the States. What a difficult way to learn to back up all your data, huh?!

That’s not all I’ve learned though. It’s a theme that’s been reiterated here, time and time again. It’s an idea that you learn to live with, and eventually becomes a part of you – influencing your attitude and your perspective. The night of the flood was just Mother Nature’s way of communicating the same moral: “always expect the unexpected”.

Posted: 01|1|10 at 3:24 pm.
Filed under: Caroline Martin.
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