Toast Post

 

Today was toasting hot. It spiked to 100° Fahrenheit and felt like 110. We’re inside, though, in the air-conditioned Hotel Surja that serves… toast! For breakfast this morning, Ethan had a chocolate-banana pancake, orange juice, masala tea, and toast. Mom selected a cheese omelette, tea, orange juice, and toast. Dad ordered scrambled eggs, tea, OJ, and toast. I had a masala omelette, tea, and- you guessed it- toast.
After going to the Jain temple complex and buying two wall-hangings from a woman (!) named Bobbi, we wandered around inside the fort. Dad had Ethan and I stand next to a cow for a picture. Ethan was wimpy and stood two feet away from it. Dad tried to pet it like he had another, but this one (the cow, not Dad) was in a foul mood.
We now had a chance to be prey to the vultures/shopkeepers. One young man came up and said, “Sir, I can help you spend your money. We have lots of ways.” Dad said, “No, thanks.” The man persisted. “Please sir. Shirts and pants, twenty rupees.” Dad shook his head again. The fellow was desperate and said, “Please, sir, is there no way I can rip you off?”
We finally reached home, did schoolwork, and got hungry. Not even chocolate cookies could cure this hunger, so Ethan ordered plain (boring) naan and I had toast. I finished teaching Ethan an important math lesson and went to look at the latest gossip on Yahoo. Mom went to clean clothes and my closest male relatives went up to talk with Raj, who is the face of Hotel Surja. Suddenly someone knocked on the door of my parents’ room yelling “Hello? Hello?” Confused and slightly annoyed, I replied, “Yes?” They barged in and strode over to the window. The balcony’s cushion and pillows were left in a heap on the floor and with a short explanation:”The rain is coming.”
What!?!? We’re in the middle of the desert! The cloud I see as I put the cushions under the bed in a nice, neat stack is light years off, farther east than the train station. The cloud that was suddenly at the window was, however, not light years off. Were those birds or trash flying around against the white that was all I could see? And why was I getting
wet? I rushed over to the window and discovered that the wind was blowing the rain in just before Dad returned from the roof. I quickly moved Mom’s backpack and my Kindle out of the soak zone, and soon Dad had grabbed a towel and stuffed it at the bottom of the window and I went to go answer Ethan’s cry for help. His bed and belongings were getting soaked and the towel he had put at the window wouldn’t stay put. I went back and forth between those two rooms, pointing out another leaky window and holding down a towel. My room, where Mom had been, was fine except for the rattling windows because it was facing west. 
This gave a new meaning to “When it rains, it pours” because it hasn’t rained in Jaisalmer for about a year. Dad said we went to the desert to escape monsoon. Well, it caught us. The thunder and lightning are still going, but it’s not so hot that you could toast a piece of bread on the sidewalk. Ciao!