The waterfall next to the bridge thunders from the overflow of the morning's thunderstorm, heard but not seen from my windowless classroom. The sun is bright now, blue sky a backdrop to still grey clouds. If I close my eyes, this could be the jungle of my childhood, just a little colder. But the ground beneath me is concrete and pebbles, and I am surrounded by buildings and people, rushing to classes. Even the waterfall is man made.