Excited to be able to stay home and get some things done, I turned on our computer and put a load of laundry in the washing machine. Our washing machine has been really island timey (it consistently stops for a two-day-long break at the beginning of the cycle), so I did a happy jig when it started running on the first try and didn't have a single problem for a solid half hour. I put Taylor Swift's obnoxiously catchy new song on the internet and walked over to the sink to get down to some serious dish scrubbing, the floor fan keeping things bearable behind me. But then.
Everything stopped.
No floor fan.
No washing machine.
And certainly no Taylor Swift on the internet.
The power was out.
I should have worried then, but the power went out a few nights ago during a thunder storm and was back on again within three hours. So I stayed. I kept on doing the dishes until the sweat dripping from my eyebrows would permit chores no further. When the heat became too unbearable to remain standing, I did the only thing I could do: I laid on my bed and played Whale Trails on my phone for an hour. Two unavoidable naps and three weird dreams about lobsters crawling around in my fridge later, I woke up feeling feverish. Grenada's humidity is ruthless, but combined with the record heat and lack of breeze it's been experiencing this past month, it really is impossible to remain indoors for any length of time without a fan.
I spent the rest of the day riding in air-conditioned buses, sitting in air-conditioned campus buildings, and wandering aimlessly through air-conditioned grocery store aisles. When Jared and I returned to our apartment at the end of the day and the power was still out, I called our landlord. She sent someone over to take a look at things and then told us, "Whoops, I forgot to pay the electricity bill the month before you came. I'll call someone to take care of it in the morning." In American English this translates to, "Hopefully someone will come fix it this week, maybe."
So we're without internet again! And without lighting, fridge, washing machine, AIR CONDITIONING, and a lot of other things too. Good thing we're experts at this type of thing by now! While our initial reaction was, "Well, this situation stinks like BO," I am now beginning to see the bright side.
Cons of No Power on an Underdeveloped Island:
₪ Our bed will be sufficiently damp in the morning due to uncomfortable amounts of sweat (also, we might not be able to fall asleep at all without a breeze).
₪ The laundry that is currently sitting in a stagnant puddle of water in the machine will start to exude a mildewey reek.
₪ All the food we've been stocking our fridge full of will be spoiled by morning (including the exorbitant amounts of lettuce and bacon I purchased yesterday so that we could eat Jared's mom's salad every day for the next three weeks [it's a healthy obsession]).
Pros of No Power on an Underdeveloped Island:
₪ In a panic, we ate two heads of lettuce worth of delicious salad for dinner.
₪ It gets dark here at 6:30, and our only form of light will be my very favorite fall candle.
₪ If the power's not back by tomorrow afternoon, I will have no choice but to spend the entire day at the beach.
₪ We've been praying lately that we'll be able to save up enough money to come home for Christmas. If this power outage keeps up, our electricity bill is going to be non-existent! The Lord works in mysterious ways :)
₪ I'm extremely motivated to attend Trash TV night with the other med school wives in the branch. (Because there will be air conditioning. And caramel corn. Unfortunately, Trash TV tonight this week will be Bachelors in Paradise, so this might actually be a con. But you know. Female bonding and stuff.)
₪ I've been able to see Jared way more than usual today because of all the time I've spent on campus.
And with that, it looks like there are more pros than cons to this situation, so it's going to be a cinch to keep our chins up! And since it's the only picture I have with me, I'd like leave you with an introduction photo of all my new Grenada friends at a zombie-themed birthday party. We're . . . well . . .
