"The school is flooded, we have to go in early today." he tells me as he sits up in bed.
On my way to the preschool building, rocks, sediment and tree branches bedazzle the streets. Thankfully the rain is now only a drizzle. As of two weeks ago, we had three umbrellas; today we have zero. We left two on a subway after toting them all the way to Mudfest (more on that later), and all the way back, only to leave them at the very last stop. Even in Korea, the land of no stealing, they weren't safe. Our last umbrella was jacked, sitting outside Kyle's office. Umbrellas at the village are free game as far as I can tell. I can't tell you how many umbrella's we've gone through these past two years. Seriously, over ten umbrellas.
|My coworker and friend, Lisa, ran into the rain without an umbrella, because her umbrella has also mysteriously disappeared, to capture some of the river. True grit!|