Flood for Real.

I live in a house which is located not far from a river. The river itself is a small one, only approximately 6 meters wide (around 18 feet). It is not a beautiful, crystal clear, fish dwelled, animal nesting river. It is a muddy, greenish brown, poison carrying river. I am lucky that I live far from the city center, where the river turns black, foamy, and smells of sulphur. I am glad that the vegetation that grows along the riverbed near my house is still somewhat flourished.

But I’m not lucky enough to avoid having my backyard flooded when it’s raining heavily for 2 days consecutively, like I’ve had yesterday.

It’s both an exciting and scary experience, watching water creeping forward, inched by inches, closer to my home. Exciting because it’s a somewhat thrilling experience, a close encounter with a rare and dangerous kind.  And it’s the danger that scared me. I’m scared to the flood mostly because indirect knowledge. Grim experiences felt by people who had had flood before, told by news or directly said to me.

Having flood invades your home means addition of things useless and substraction of things useful. Well, mud is somehow useful for fertilizing unfertile ground, but when it sticks to the walls of your home, they won’t be pretty walls. Not to mention significant unwanted addition of soft and disgusting thickness that gets piled up on your floor. And when the black-brown invader took over your home appliances, you know your living values have been unvoluntarily substracted.

Not to mention you’ll be lacking the means to clean up yourself and your home.
But Thanks God, It’s never been happened to my home. Hopefully the city government will do better than today to make sure that everyone’s homes in the city are safe from the menacing invasion of the home splasher.


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