It’s Day 2 of the blackout, post-Irene. The neighborhood is in shreds, but we’re pulling together OK.
This morning, I read the morning news outside on the lounge chair, and the whole house is optimized for good air flow because we can’t rely on our air conditioning.
I made coffee with a plunger pot instead of my super-automatic Capresso machine. I can’t microwave instant oatmeal or refried beans. I use a match to light the stove. Life is slower now, at least at home.
Instead of gorging on the morning news programs, today I strolled (what’s left of) the neighborhood. Mornings are nice in my neighborhood, much nicer than later on when more people are out and the sun hangs high. I’ve spoken with all my neighbors by now, now that finding something to talk about has become much easier.
The blackout could last all week, and I haven’t seen a utility truck anywhere. Not an unusual situation down in Mérida, but a little tough for us up here. The train to the city is still down, but the subways have resumed service, albeit limited. Friends I’ve spoken to are feeling grateful that things weren’t worse, although some hard-bitten city types feel the storm was overhyped, like the earthquake. We’re coping, so far, but my ice is still cold and my showers are still hot. Tomorrow will be tougher. Veterans of Mérida life will probably poo-poo my complaints if I start to whine, just as everyone from California had a good eye-roll at our terror over the earthquake last week.
The worst part so far is that my only electronic entertainment, aside from social media via my iPhone, is my battery-powered radio that gets the local AM station. I haven’t listened to AM so much since I was a child. The inane prattle will make me crazier than losing my ice cubes and hot showers.