The phrase "culture shock" was one I was aware of, knew the definition of, but never really comprehended just what an upheaval it would be to the senses until the day those ships started to descend from the sky. The rest of the base and I were all waiting with baited breath to see what would come of the first meeting in-person ever since contact had been established some weeks prior with this roaming, space-faring species.

When the ships came down, they seemed to falter after breaking through the clouds, hovering gray puffs parted by the spheres that descended towards the shores we'd arranged to be our meeting point. After all, if they were so derisive of what our planet held, it only made sense to give them coordinates that would deliver proof immediately.

Once they pods opened, out spilled the creatures, all but stumbling about towards the sands, working all three of their legs quickly to head towards the line where sand lead to water. Some stopped and stared, others dropped to their knees, others even further to the ground. It would be funny to see, if their reverence wasn't so...earnest. Perhaps this would help with negotiations? I couldn't say, I wasn't part of that sect.

Moments passed, and soon humans and aliens started to mingle; those of the aliens that had retained their faculties had a myriad of questions about the endless expanse of water beyond them, how such a thing could be possible on any planet, stories from their ancestry of the scarcity and beauty of the liquid...it boggled my mind thinking that something I could look at through the window every day and not even register was all but a spiritual reckoning to these folk.

A rumble above our heads gave warning of what the darkened clouds were about to do. A curious traveler from beyond stood next to me, looking up in curiosity, their crimson eyes blinking a few times as they saw what was beginning to fall from the sky.

"This is...what did you humans call it?" it said, holding out a claw and watching the water droplets slink across its yellow scales and to the ground.

"Rain. We usually get it a few times a week around here." I replied. The look they gave me was the same as if someone had told me they regularly grew trees with golden fruit in their backyard, before shaking their head and looking back to the sky. "It looks like it's going to go pretty hard. We have umbrellas to cover ourselves, if you want..." I said, before being quieted by another look, this one as if I'd just told a rather subpar joke.

They simply stretched their arms up high, as if wanting to grasp the rain as it fell into their claws, something several others of their kind had begun to do around their cohorts and new human acquaintances.

"Why would I ever want to shield myself from this?"