I love my fan

1.30pm Tuesday last week my fan (my friend) glided to a stop, as did all the electrical appliances in my house and along the street. It was just another black-out. We have them regularly throughout the hot season when load-shedding ensures that the city can continue to run (albeit with a noticeable limp) throughout peak usage times.

The quietness was then shattered as the generator for the bean sprout farm across the road chugged into life. (It was the noise that accompanied our every moment over the next 22 hours.)

But it wasn’t until the sun set that afternoon that I realised we were in for a dark, hot night. This was not just load-shedding - there was a problem that was not going to be fixed throughout the night. Workers need to eat and sleep. I just hope that someone had notified them of the problem and our entire street wasn’t just accepting the situation as “bad luck”. I certainly didn’t call the electricity company.

However, the kids always love black-outs. The candles cause rousing renditions of “happy birthday”. Dinner is eaten with far less complaints although it is interrupted by numerous trips to the toilet / kitchen just so they can hold the candle on their own. The muted light also seems to help reduce fights and lulls our senses to sleep.

At bed time, we moved the kid’s mattress so that they could sleep on the tiles under their mosquito net. Then we all chose our weapons for tackling the night.

Velociraptor asked for a wet towel to drape over his body. Princess wet her hair and wriggled her way to sleep closest to the battery operated fan. Mr Happy went nude but demanded that the mattress be returned to its normal spot. Steve smothered himself with RID and chose to sleep on the bare tiles downstairs, deciding cool was more important than comfort.

With a Mum’s protective instincts I slept upstairs just outside the kid’s room under a wet sheet for the dual purpose of protecting me from heat and mozzies. Or rather, tried to sleep. It was the perfect opportunity to catch up on a little thinking but I just wasn’t in the mood.

My mood in the morning wasn’t much better (nor was anyone else’s). But we were pleased to see evidence of the suffering of others around us – dragging feet, stooped shoulders, bleary eyes. Misery loves company.

And I realise now that there is nothing the “haves” can say to the “have nots” that will make them feel any better. Optimism is particularly distasteful while a helping hand is MUCH appreciated (a friend was happy to take my perishables into her fridge… although I still made us sick on some old cheerios).

But what I really wanted was to “have also”.

This, I did, at 11.30am. The generator ceased and in the quiet, I could again enjoy the cheery whirr of my fan. Ahhh. Bliss.