Now
this, my friends, is winter. February,
my feared enemy, has arrived, and it has brought it’s A-game.
On
Tuesday, my sunny but cold weather had turned into snow, snow, and more
snow. In interest, I checked the weather
forecast. Not a single positive digit in
sight (in C). That was a depressing
thought. Yesterday was too cold for me
to venture outside for long. Last night
my host mom reminded me to turn on my space heater, as if I needed the
suggestion. I appreciated the comment,
since I could then crank my space heater up all the way guilt-free. It still only does so much. On Wednesday morning, my boots still had snow
on them. Still, the space heater is my
best friend in Georgia
(sorry to any real friends reading this; you don’t keep me warm at night).
Thus,
I knew something was amiss this morning when I woke up and my face was
cold. I turned to my trusty friend and
did not see those bright orange coils I have gotten to know so well. I know they had been there an hour before
when a creaky door had woken me up. With
dread, I realized the power had gone out.
I lay in bed, my body warm thanks to blankets and my down coat, my face
cold because no space heater was blasting warmth its way, and I contemplated my
next step. My morning routine is defined
by the space heater (I told you, we’re tight).
Without it, I had to re-evaluate.
I also wondered if we would even have school. Assuming we would, and realizing my bed was
not a warm cocoon anymore, I woke up.
However, I decided that there was no way I was putting on freezing-cold
clothes (which I normally warm up via space heater). So, I survived the cold and darkness to go
down to the bathroom, came back up to my room,
grabbed the closest warm outfit I could find and walked into the
kitchen, to get dressed by the wooden stove.
I decided it was too dark and cold for contacts but put on a bit of
make-up before my daily tea with jam and bread breakfast.
Once
I got to school, I found out that my fears were confirmed. No power meant no heat, although we tried to
absorb whatever residual heat resided in the radiators. My co-teacher and I headed to our first class
with the first graders, not sure what it would be like. We saw only 2 of our kids and one of their
mothers, so my co-teacher wrote down an explanation of colors for the mother
and sent the kids packing. We then sat
the rest of the lesson by the radiator in the teacher’s room. One of the other teachers was in there since
she didn’t have a first lesson. She said
she passed a class with 15 kids and asked them if their parents didn’t love
them, since they still sent the kids to school on such a cold day. She had left her 1st and 2nd
grader at home with their grandmother.
That was the general consensus of the town, for good reason. My 2nd class was with 2nd
graders, and my 3rd with 5th graders. My co-teacher went to cover for another
teacher 2nd hour, so I found myself alone with 7 2nd
graders. I taught a little, asked them
to interpret my awful chalkboard drawings, and moved around to keep warm. I think I entertained them enough and taught
them something, so the lesson was a success.
My lessons completed for the day, I headed home at 10:30, since classes
were shortened because of the cold/lack of power. I warmed up with a cup of tea and read by the
stove, enjoying the quiet morning with my host mom and grandma.
Then
2 teachers came over about noon, with news that school was canceled for the
rest of the day and for tomorrow as well.
My host mom, with help from the other teachers, my grandma, and a bit
from me, soon had a mini-supra set. We
said a few toasts, drank some good bottled red wine, and had a lunch that was
slightly more varied than most. It was
fun to see the teachers outside of school and laugh along when I understood a
story or they translated for me.
Thankfully there was more talking than drinking. During our lunch, the power came back on, but
it had stopped being important somewhere along the way of trying to figure out
what exactly one teacher meant by saying she and my host mom were “stolen” when
they got married and hearing stories of teachers throwing grapes at each other
on excursions.
The
sun eventually came out and the day clearly improved, but winter is still very
rough. Our toilet seat is literally
freezing. I scraped flakes of ice off of
it. The toilet bowl water also tends to
get a layer of ice on it. We have water
flowing through some of our pipes for a few hours a day. Our hot water heater and washing machine are
out of commission until further notice.
Our toilet is flushed by a large bucket of water retrieved from the
bathtub reserves. I no longer question the need to wear socks
every second of the day and wear multiple layers all the time.
I
do not say this to engender sympathy in you.
In fact, while I dislike the cold and will rejoice when the weather gets
warm, these hardships don’t seem nearly that painful. I actually enjoy the days when the power is
out at home. There’s no music or TV to
distract us. I can sit and read (or play
on my laptop even if that feels like cheating).
I chat with my host family more on those days. I like the temporary withdrawal of technology
from our life. While the cold is brutal,
the snow is beautiful, coating everything in my village in a blanket of
white. I get a childish enjoyment from
crunching through inches of untouched snow and revel in the crunch piercing the
quiet of my village. While the water
issues have made life harder, I’m learning how to be resourceful in ways I
never thought I would ever need. I have
gained significant respect for the wonder of the stove-it heats, it cooks, it
boils-in short, it makes my village life function in winter. If nothing else, this winter won’t kill me, so
it has to be making me stronger, right?
I’ll
let you know on the other side of February, as today is only day 2. Tomorrow I have a date with the stove. I actually have about 27 more dates with the stove this month. Don't worry, the space heater isn't jealous.
