It was a normal day, but as soon as breakfast was finished, the first raindrops started to fall. Although not many drops were falling, the whole sky turned gray. I had to stop singing the Song for Sunshine by Belle and Sebastian (which can only be sung when the sun is striking us, that is, all the time). Max told Matt, Emily and me to get ready for taking some samples in different locations upstream. At first, I underestimated the cold that was waiting outside to attack us, while I watched by the window. After thinking twice, I wore five layers of clothes, but only one thin layer of pants. I also put on my gloves for the first time in the summer, which I had expected to keep in my backpack the whole trip. As Max drove us to the flood plain, the weather got colder. We spent twenty minutes collecting samples in the flood plain stream and when I came back to Max, I saw in front of me how the wind increased within the mainstream. Not only was the wind increasing, but so were the waves. Thank God that Max suggested to come back after lunch to take more samples. On our way back to the barge things got worse; I haven’t felt that cold since 5 years ago in Washington D. C. I rolled myself up like a caterpillar for warmth, though it wasn’t enough. I stopped feeling the movement of my hands even though I was wearing gloves. As I felt how my legs were freezing, I kept thinking how much we had to travel to arrive to the barge. Matt kept me alive by reminding me of the warmth of sandy beaches and beautiful tropical women. I felt protected when we finally arrived to the barge.  While I thought about reviving that coldness sensation, I was certain that I was not going back.

Rain shrouds the barge and obscures the usually clear view over the floodplains on one of the first rainy nights since our arrival. © Becky Tachihara

Raindrops fall into the Panteleikha while we watch out the window from the comfort of the warm, dry barge. © Becky Tachihara