*The Storm that Made me Smart*.....though smart may be too grand a word.

‘’I see a dinosaur!’’
‘’I see a horse. How do you say horse in English?’’
‘’Horse. I see a pearl necklace.’’
‘’Pretty. I see a plastic bag!’’ and my nine year old cousin, Maria Jose, pointed up. Sure enough, a black plastic bag was being pushed across the ever-changing sky. In about five minutes the heavens had gone from lightly cloud covered, like a typical Southeast Alaskan day, to a cotton-candy mixer spinning black sugar. Maria Jose and I saw the clouds on the horizon as we played at handstands and cartwheels in the grass at the pool complex my family frequents. She suggested I take pictures, so we grabbed my camera and climbed the stairs to the still-hot tile balcony—one of my favorite places at the resort. The view it offers is incredible. Straight ahead is the red tile roof of a changing room, and from there silhouettes of giant palm and flowery trees and buildings of every kind extend to the horizon. Then, to the right, you get a view of the pool, and its occupants. The other week, the balcony became a spy-base to check out the busload of Evangelical gringos. The left of the balcony shows trees and trees and trees. We laid back and stared up at the roiling mess of clouds until lighting flashed and thunder grumbled, and I became acutely aware of our position; the balcony made us some of the tallest objects in the area. I didn’t want to test my powers of lightening resistance, so we descended.
We returned to our family gathered in the familiar corner, and Maria Jose was whisked away by an aunt. Meanwhile, the rain decided it was tired of those fat, black clouds and decided to mix in the swimming pool instead. One minute occasional heavy drops splashed the cement and mango leaves, the next, it was a downpour. As soon as Mama nodded her permission, I was running across the resort to the grassy area next to the pool and restaurant. I stretched my ballet muscles and leaped across my green stage to an orchestra of thunder, lighting, and cars honking out in the road. My Olympic preparations began as I cartwheeled and backbended in the wet. I was completely soaked before I lay out on the basketball court. I couldn’t lay still for long though, because rain kept dropping in my nose and eyes. I felt like those, is it turkeys? who, when it rains, tilt their heads up until they drown in it. I loved it though.
The rain was still going strong after ten minutes, but I was a little more calm and skipped back to the overhang where my family still sat. Mama and Abuelita saw me and laughed, but insisted as soon as I came in from the rain that I shower and put on something dry. It seems that adults all over the world, except in Southeast Alaska, are sure that you’ll catch your death of a cold if you play in the rain and don’t dry off after. That wisdom is shared here at least. I laughed, and let them find me a towel and a dress, and while rinsing and drying off, I realized something. All my life I believed something about myself: that I was destined for a hot, dry place, where humidity and rain were only words found in books. I was wrong.
I don’t know if it was only in these last few months, or during the years of squishing in my shoes in Alaska, or the summer thunderstorms of Utah, or even back to my sticky, sweaty, wet birthplace of Japan, but somewhere in my lifetime, I became addicted to the wet. I rather convincingly told myself and others that my future was in Utah, if only because it was dry, and I loved dry heat. That’s not a lie; I do love low humidity, but I was wrong in saying that I hated it altogether. I, in fact, have no issue with humidity at all, so long as I have lots of clean, light weight clothes, and a cold shower everyday. I saw what my future could be like while dancing in that storm. I could live somewhere wet, and hot, and green. I never wanted to live in Hawaii because I thought it’d be too humid, but hey, I can handle that now. A whole other atmosphere has opened up to me, all because I danced in a rainstorm in Bolivia. Here’s the truth: I can be happy anywhere now. Alaska is cool, and sometimes I hate it, but I could be happy there. I could make do in Egypt. If my future were in England, I think I’d do just fine. I’m not limiting myself to just one climate now. I am versatile and strong and brave enough to handle all of them. Even if I can’t handle all of them, most of them are fantastic, and I love that knowledge. It’s amazing what you can learn from dancing in a rainstorm. I highly suggest you try it, you might learn something. Be careful though, if you’re not of the Southeast Alaskan breed, you may just catch your death of a cold if you don’t dry off after.