Capital Federal’s weather is perfectly grey and soggy today. My favorite liquid hug is embracing my new city.
As an Oregonian, I was initiated into Team Rain Jacket at an early age; I am accustomed to a persistent drizzle and the silent threat of spontaneous cloud-leaks. Precipitation does not elicit the “snuggle in bed with a book” response in me. I gladly endured months of wet weather, pedaling all over town for years in everything from mists to oceanic downpours. I own two waterproof jackets, two sets of bicycle fenders, one pair of wellies, one set of neoprene cycling booties and one pair of very expensive rain pants. Even my curly, bobbed hair is naturally water-resistant. Some people suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder when the weather turns grey and wet- I get cranky and depressed when it’s too hot and sunny.
I love when it rains in this city. The streets are a little noisier with the muffled hush of water splashing against wheel-wells while the surfaces are washed clean of the city grit. The gentle winds help replace the exhaust-congested air with the scent of musty earth. I can’t help but laugh at the porteños scurrying around under the awnings of shops to avoid the wet trickle down the backs of their necks. My street is quieter on rainy nights as folks abandon an evening out in favor of staying warm and dry at home.
The thunderstorms are wonderful. I can feel the thunder bouncing off the neighboring buildings if the storm is rolling off the westward river, and I can stand on my balcony to watch the lightning flash from the south or east. I once saw a crack of lightning connect with a tower atop the 25-story building across the street — and promptly ran inside to unplug our laptops. Not all the thunderstorms are accompanied by rain but those that are, inevitably unleash sheets of water. I empathize with the delivery guys on their tiny scooters when these lluvias come in.
Buenos Aires is a temperate climate, much like the Pacific NW, though different in that winter offers the least amount of precipitation. Summer temperatures hover around 80-90°F, while June and July (the middle of winter here in the Southern Hemisphere… Will I ever get used to saying that?) are the coldest and driest months. Today, however, is exactly the way winter should be. I think I will put on my jaunty purple jacket and enjoy having the wet sidewalks to myself.