umbrella love

what the hell is the use of an umbrella when im bombing down a hill at the speed of rain on a killer blazing orange bicycle that is too small for me and all the while my umbrella is desperately trying to cast its life away into the wind. but nonetheless im clinging for dear life on this lightening-loving-nylon-nuisance. the heavens are surely dumping buckets and the looming calm between thunder and its lover lightening is growing shorter with each ridiculous pedal of my bike. any moment now i should regain sanity and ditch the umbrella and pedal for my life, but no, id much rather hydroplane myself straight into a soaking wet giggling mess.

how did i get myself into this? it all started this morning when i arrived to Ishigaki island on a 9 hour ferry from Okinawa. i met a woman named Satoko on the ferry ride and it seemed as though we were moving on the same schedule (which is no schedule, no plans whatsoever)so we decided to wander together. we ended up choosing to go to a nearby island called Iriomote that has the population of my high school graduating class. its famed for its mangrove forests, rivers and wild Iriomote cats. we called the first guesthouse that we saw a sign for, dropped off our stuff, and packed our bathing suits for a sunny day at the beach. on our way out the door is started to rain, but we were so antsy to get out into the wilderness, that we hastily left in a brief interval between pours. so sure enough it drizzled the whole way to our destination - Yubu Island. Yubu Island is a small hiccup of sand and mangrove trees about 550m from the shore of Iriomote. there is a water buffalo taxi service that brings you across the shallow sea to the island, but we chose the cheaper route - walking across. Rolling up our pants we slowly made our way across in the mid-calf deep brown and green piss warm water. there we were, two broke backpackers walking in between buffalo taxis to an island in the distance. once on the island we realized it was a botanical garden and mini zoo! have you ever seen an emu? waht a strange looking creature. anyway, once we made our way to the other side of the island that faces the China Sea we peeled our sweat soaked clothes off and jumped in...well not really. we walked in, and walked and walked...until we were 500m away from shore in the ocean that never rose above our thighs. The sun cam out and we must have spent an hour submerged in the water regretting the moment we had to get out. the sun started its slow dive into the western mountains and so we started to leave. half way across the island, the belly of heaven, in one swift and mocking motion, ripped open on us again. we waiting under at awning but eventually the impressive symphony of rain sounding all around us was rudely interrupted by an anouncement that the park was closed and that we (surely they were speaking directly to us because i hadnt seen anyone in hours) had to leave. we grabbed two available umbrellas and made our way to cross the waterway again. With such an action packed day we failed to remember that the ocean has tides and that the tide might come in, and of course it did. The remainging park workers were preparing to cross in their knee high rubber boots and rain suits. when they saw us they gave us a nice hearty laugh. we were quite the sight-two careless and naive girls sporting our worthless umbrellas like they would protect us from anything. Rolling up our pants again, this time much higher, we marched back into the murky sea to find that is had risen a little over a foot. the first couple of meters i took each step with such deliberation as to not get my pants wet. who was a kidding?! somewhere around step number 113 i became mesmarized by the patterns in the surface of the water. not a single space was left undecorated by the concentric waves of the drops. it was a beautiful kind of private squaredance of rain, except it was a circle dance, and a very public one at that. at around step 537 we reached the shore where we asked the gate attendant if we could borrow the umbrellas. he responded by laughing at us, but when he noticed we were dead serious, he said OK. mounting my japanese-sized bike, it took me a good five minutes of wobbly riding before i found a barely comfortable position for the pointless umbrella. i was struggling with the damn thing the whole time we sluggishly battled our way through the relentless storm. which brings me back to that moment of pure dripping wet delirium. finally laughter took hold of us, the umbrella became an absurd accessory and we steered our bikes straight for the biggest puddles. this is the end of my rainy day story.