I thought I had settled in to village living. I got comfortable. And then the small luxuries were stolen from me. And I didn't even realize that they were luxuries.
There's some sort of gas shortage. Don't ask me how or why (yes I realize that gas is in shortage world wide but I'm talking actual shortage. As in we only have a certain amount of gas for the rest of the week and after that is gone, we're stuck).
Now, we have a gas stove. This means we use gas for cooking. And, when you live in a village, it's the little things that you look forward to. Such as tea. I have a new tea obsession (to balance my potato and peanut butter fetishes). Tea makes me happy. I'm up to a good 5 cups a day (including delicious amounts of sugar and a spoonful of powdered soy milk). And it was easy. We just popped into the kitchen, filled a pot with filtered water, switched on the gas stove, lit the burner with a match, and let that baby boil.
But there's a gas shortage.
So no more stove tea.
Instead we are to use the wooden stove outside. Even for someone who was a pyromaniac as a child (and still delights in all things fire), this stove is a challenge to my intellect. This is not how we make fires at home. And the amount of smoke inhalation and the scent on my skin.... Well, I will smell and breathe like men in a camp.
It should also be noted that the weather has changed. People wrap their shoulders and heads with blankets and scarves in the morning and evening, while bicycling to the next village or cooking chapatis outside or even, as I witnessed this morning, sitting in the living room typing away at 7 am.
This means that the ice cold showers that provided some relief in the summer now make me second guess the need to wash my body. Because you can feel it in your scalp. It is cold. Too cold. So boiling water for bucket showers it is.
Except that there's not enough gas. So the luxury of being able to boil water on the stove inside for your bucket shower outside is now also gone. This was a luxury I did not realize was a luxury. Running hot water, of course. But being able to boil water in less than 30 minutes to then bathe in? I just never knew.
While I try and (most often) succeed in taking things in stride, this threw me a bit. Because what and when we can cook hot food is limited. Heating water is now limited to the outside smoke-death-dealing stove. And my chai has been ripped from my grasp.
This turned me into a not so easy-going grump yesterday evening. Because, while others leave in the next week, month, and month and a half, I have a good four months of winter ahead. And, while I adore camping, I also enjoy warm showers afterwards and fresh-smelling clothes and clean lungs.
In an effort to "suck it up" and deal with the fact that India is doing crazy things to my body which I cannot control, I am currently sitting at the kitchen table, using my fingers to wipe the very last smears of peanut butter out of the jar in order to cheer myself up.
And, because life always gives a little when it takes, N. (my roommate and sister spirit) and I managed to stumble online at the same time, exactly when I ended it. And while the promises of nutella and peanut butter and trail mix coming my way played a role in bringing laughter back to my eyes, it was really the number game, her listed reminders of the absolute chaos, complexity, and hilarity that is my life that reminded me to smile.
....in spite of the fact that I will be half clean and fully cold for the next quarter of a year.
No comments:
Post a Comment