When I was eighteen and stepped outside the airport in Jakarta the heat and humidity were so intense I thought I was going to faint. The city I lived in for a year as an exchange student was situated in the hills a few hours outside of Jakarta and thankfully, had a slightly more moderate climate.
But certain experiences in my early years have conditioned me to be somewhat fond of humidity. First it was summers spent in Wisconsin with my grandparents where I loved the warm thunder showers that would break the heat and bring mosquitoes. This was such a change compared to the arid dry weather of Southern California. Then came Indonesia where the vegetation was so lush and wet sensuality pulsed through the air despite the sexual constraint of the culture. After that came time in Connecticut and New York where summers were filled with verdant green and restless nights from heat.
And yes, these climates are sticky and gross and make my hair even more unruly. But I also feel a certain comfort in the warmth. I feel alive in the mess of it. And maybe that is precisely why I like humidity and the rain that washes it all away.
The photo was taken at Borobudur, a Buddhist temple in Indonesia. The bell shaped structures are called stupas. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Borobudur
Very unusual structures, great shot!
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