Tuesday 14 July 2009

Where's the power?



Having written just a short while ago how pleased we were that the monsoon had finally put in an appearance, I may have been a little hasty as it's now gone on strike again. This really is bad news for thousands of farmers and all the people who rely on this yearly deluge of rainfall to water their crops. It's also bad news for the reservoirs that are normally filled with water which then power the wind turbines to give us electricity, which means electricity is in very short supply. We are getting on average about three power cuts a day, lasting anywhere from half an hour to three hours.

To begin with, Maya found the power cuts quite entertaining. Thankfully (?) she'd been educated by a little pink cartoon pig called Peppa Pig on what power cuts were so when they began, she threw herself into the torch and candle hunting game with gusto. And Andy and I enjoyed it too. We'd reach for the guitar (see above!), have a candlelit dinner and really talk. Yes, that old-fashioned pastime. But then came the more irritating part of it: the freezer defrosts and leaves puddles on the floor which Maya and Lily skid about on, the food goes off, the washing machine stops mid-cycle and leaves a heap of half-washed nappies in the drum that smell so bad that Maya walks into her room, announces 'PONGY!' and makes a swift exit. What else...I often can't do my writing in the mornings (I know, I know, out with the violins) and I had a yoga class last night in pitch black. Which was surreal. These small things are nothing, nothing in comparison to the plight of the poor farmers, but still, on a day to day basis it can be a little awkward.

As far as Maya is concerned, the power cuts are now a downright inconvenience and she couldn't care less if Peppa Pig finds them fun. The reason for this is because the laptop only hangs on for so long without power before giving up the ghost and if this comes in the middle of watching one of her beloved DVD's, the fit she throws is quite spectacular. We've tried explaining to her that it's beyond our abilities to bring it back but frankly, she doesn't believe us and thinks it's some plot to get her to watch less TV. Sigh. What can a parent do? Having said this, if the power goes off at a more fortuitous moment when she's nowhere near the laptop, Maya is sometimes more enthusiastic about them and runs off to fetch the candles. She now regularly does this whether it's dark or not. Yesterday for example, she made us sit and eat lunch by candlelight with the bright sunshine pouring in through the window!

So, could you do a little rain dance for us? Otherwise we'll have the pong of half-washed nappies forever lodged up our noses and I may well give myself a black eye trying to do sun salutations in the dark. Ta.

1 comment:

  1. Am rain dancing right at this moment. The neighbours are looking curious, but, hey.

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