Tonight my wife Nim tells me about her memory of rain as the thunder crackles sharply outside our condo in west Bangkok, Sukhumvit. Tonight we can forget the air conditioning. We don't pay much, but today I paid the electric bill, 3600 baht, $100, for last month. Normally half or less in the cool season. Our use of air con is sparse, nights only.
"I always think how good I feel when it rain."
"Why?"
"Because privacy. In my life, my home town, even outside one hundred people talking all the time, in the rain they go home and I can go to my room alone and not worry about anyone. I feel wonderful."
My wife is now fifty years old. Lately she praises anonymity, How she loves living in Bangkok because "I don' have to go anyone funeral".
What is it about tropical thunderstorms that spurs remembrance of things past?
