It’s hard to ignore maps: You see two locations, one north, one south, and automatically think:
(A) the latter will be hot
(B) the former will be chillier.
But—at least here in el Distrito Federal mid-summer—you would be wrong. This place redefines your image of August in Mexico.
It rains everyday, usually around 4:30 p.m. And sometimes, it’s bewilderingly cold, which is to say “October in D.C.” cold, which is to say “too cold, but not arctic by any means.”
Regardless, every morning, I leave the house with some kind of light jacket.
We’ve had our warm days, sure. (Today, in fact, was lovely.) But we’ve also endured the kind of days that make you think God, I really need to dry clean that damn gray sweater, and I thought I would do it today, but how could I poossssssiibbbllllly do it today when I am wearing the gray sweater and can’t stand to take it off?
And so, with a heavy heart, I read (in Publimetro) that rains will continue this month. And they’ll be really awful as in “lluvias de agosto…serán las más fuertes de los últimos 15 años.”
I think that’s pretty easily translatable.
I can’t say I wasn’t warned. The “temporada de la lluvia” (rainy season) is well-known here. Early on, I was instructed to always carry an umbrella with me from about May/June through mid-September.
What they didn’t tell me was: Sometimes, you need a parachute-sized umbrella to protect yourself from the rains here. And those simply don’t exist. Or at least they aren’t easily purchased for 25 pesos outside of a Metro station.