Flooding

20 October 2008

I have lost count of how many times the river that cuts the floor of this valley has flooded in the past month and a half. I think the novelty wore off two or three weeks ago. Flash floods are still exciting, though. Not least because at least some of them result from rain here (as opposed to further up in the mountains), which means I find out just how waterproof my house really is.
Last night it started raining late, maybe 12 midnight or 1 am, and kept it up most of the night. By morning, when I stepped out my door to run down the stairs through the light rain to the bathroom, I could hear the river roaring already. So, having planned an early morning walk anyway, I decided to make the object of that walk viewing the river. I saw a youngish man and his younger and very pregnant wife on their roof looking around and shaking their heads. I greeted them and asked them how they were doing: “Labas Shwi.” Or “we’re doing just OK.” Was his answer. Rain had soaked through his roof and was now dripping off of the beams. Most roofs have decent sized pipes or other water exits on them for just this reason. A mud roof will eventually saturate with water if you don’t get that water off quickly. I asked about the flooding river, and he invited me up on his roof. I declined and asked directions to see the flood (I know the way, but I wanted him to feel good about something after I declined the invitation).
I walked down a back path, it cuts just below the post office and along several fields by a house where I know the family. Their teenage son, Ahmed appeared as I passed. We chatted as we walked… this sounds very simple and not very interesting, but he is one of the most animated people I know (he can give Katherine, and my Emiline a good run for their money!). Thus, it was quite entertaining! he asked me if their was water escaping into my house, great concern all over his face. No, I said and he nodded a satisfied grin. Your house? No, he said, still smiling but his face said: preposterous! At the transit stop we parted ways.
I found a high vantage point next to the president of the women’s association. Half the village turns out to watch the river destroy the fields each time it floods badly. This was the highest I had yet seen the river. The entire 200 ft wide riverbed is covered with pale brown, milky water that bludgeons everything in its path. This morning, some trees were over half submerged, and throwing up a spray on either side like a water-skier as they struggled to remain upright in the torrent of water. I asked the people near me where their fields were. Some said, up high, with a satisfied and relieved nod. Others pointed and said, ‘see that huge milky brown mess? That’s mine.’ ‘What’s growing there?’ ‘Turnips.’ ‘Will they be OK?’ ‘Yeah, they’re not corn.’ Corn doesn’t stand a chance in a flood, it ends up flattened and stripped of its ears.
I stood and watched for a good while, noting the beauty of the view even in the presence of a natural disaster. The colors of the earth are darkened by rain: there is red, purple, maroon, teal, yellow, orange, brown, and grey depending upon where you look. Contrasted by the rich greens and yellows of the patchwork terraces of the farm fields, and the swirling grey of the clouds it is beautiful. Speaking of those clouds, they way they were tumbling over the mountain hinted there just might be more rain on the way. I also noted the transits stopped in Ait Bartal… so the other river is flooding, too. This has to be at least the 6th or 7th time the road out of town has been buried by literally tons of rock, sand and mud. Hopefully, the bulldozer will come today and clear it off… otherwise I’ll be hauling my bike over that mess to get to souk tomorrow.
At this point, I have a couple questions: 1) will it ever stop raining? 2) is it like this EVERY autumn? I suppose the answer to first question is, of course, yes. And the second I have asked of folks. No, they say, last year we had very little rain in the autumn.
Somehow I never expected to be writing about constant flash-flooding in my blog from a village that is placed right on the very edge of the Sahara desert…