As the rain starts to get heavier and heavier, I stare out of the window reflecting on my earlier decision to leave the umbrella in the car. Not my wisest move. The air's thick, well it's pretty thick in general with all the humidity (if it gets to 100% are we swimming not walking when we pass through it?) with a buzz of excitement.
There was definitely something off when I drove into school this morning. It was raining lightly, but it's rainy season. The man on the radio said lots of things I didn't understand, but one I did stood out. Typhoon.
Was I late? early? Something was amiss. There was only one kid and no sign of cars. It didn't click right away. (No, they hadn't all been blown away)
School wasn't cancelled for me, but for the students it was.
This was all explained in the morning announcement, none of which I understood. I didn't even notice the word Typhoon this time, but the English teachers explained to me afterwards which was nice. So it's on its way. A Typhoon. The school needs to be storm proofed and checked for already present storm damage.
There isn't any.
Phones keep ringing and teachers in their composed and calm way keep making other phone calls. There are no pupils yet they're all so busy. What they're doing's quite a mystery to me. There's a little excitement in it. That sadistic appreciation of scary weather. The inner storm chaser in us all is awake and ready to chase.
The storm will be over us around midnight. Will the room shake? The windows rattle? At least it should mean no mosquitoes.
The teacher beside me tells me all about the strength of winds, 50m/s, and I look a little hazy eyed. That's pretty fast. 111mph. On an island where the max speed limit is 31mph, that's going to feel a tad on the speedy side.
The rains still going, the baseball field looks sad all sodden.
I hear it'll be time to record the listening test for the san nensei (third years) later, and I can't help but imagine doing that in a really strong and fatal storm. Would be an interesting way to go.