It’s as if an endless bucket of water is being turned upside down over all of Freetown.

They say that there is first a three-day rain, and then in early August, a seven-day rain. And after that it rains basically full time for a month.

In the background I can hear the roar of the downpours against hundreds of tin roofs. There are rivers that once were streets. Occasionally it becomes tempest-like, and I shudder to think of all the families relying on UNHCR tarps to protect their makeshift shelters.

Malaria and typhoid are running rampant, almost everyone I know has gotten one or both.

And even after all this, I know after I have escaped it -- jetting home for some serious R&R -- when I return in September I will selfishly miss the calming violence of a torrential downpour.

Photos of rain-drenched Freetown now in the gallery.