Wednesday, December 20, day 88
Ninety days without electricity. I wonder if anyone else counts the days.
I received a Christmas card from a friend today. In her note she says, "I hope you've recovered from the hurricane." It was a genuine heartfelt sentiment.
I responded, "We're like alcoholics and drug addicts - recovering, not recovered."
We say things like, "When things are back to normal..." What is "normal?" And how will we know we're back to it?
We only lost water for a couple of weeks; others were without water for months. Having fresh water readily available certainly is convenient, but does having it mean we're back to "normal?" Just about everyone I know - including me - is still filtering drinking water. Many people - again me included - still capture rain water. I use it mostly for cleaning, not for flushing toilets like we did before, but I still capture it. Is that "normal?" It is for now.
Communication, especially electronic communication, with the outside world is still spotty, uncertain. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, much of the time non-existent. Sometimes I will have three or four bars on my phone and then they fade to one - or none. Same place, same spot. I haven't moved.
There were photos from Houston of people using their cell phones to call for help from the roof tops of houses flooded by Hurricane Harvey. The first cell tower here wasn't up and running for nearly three weeks after Maria. Cell service is improving from nothing to something but it's a long way from "normal."
Internet too is illusive. Even those who have it have it sometimes. With no electricity I don't have Internet at home even though the cable that runs past our house was repaired. (I've been told Villa Montaña paid for that repair so they and their guests would have Internet.) Although Marie's neighborhood has electric, the cable repair crews haven't reached her street. I can get Wi-Fi at Carole's - if it's working. The cable company has free Wi-Fi out side their office by that's a 10-mile drive each way. Like the cell phone "hotspots," there are dozens of people parked, trying to connect.
I've written about this before: most of my "normal" activities are suspended. My photography is hugely dependent on computers and Internet. Snorkeling and diving are dependent on the ocean and the availability of air which in turn is dependent on electricity to run a compressor. Part of the joy of diving for me is taking photos of what I see and sharing those photos. Although I've taken photos - lots of photos! - since Maria, my options for sharing them are limited.
Even writing this: I want to share this journal, but...
Do you notice a common thread here? We are now three months without electricity So much of what I am missing - communication, computer, photos - depends on stable consistent electricity.
When we get electricity back, will that be or feel "normal?" I'm not so sure. Better, yes. But "normal?" Everyone of us here has been changed in some inexplicable, undefinable but fundamental way by this experience. Even those whose lives have returned to "normal." i.e., they have water, electricity, Internet access, gasoline, food, refrigeration, don't feel "normal." I think in part that has to do with knowing other people nearby still don't have all those "normal" things.
We're all kind of lost in limbo, waiting for something. On September 19 we were waiting for the hurricane to begin. Now we're waiting for it to end.
Today was a pretty "normal" day, at least in the current state of "normal:"
- Got up in the dark
- Made coffee
- Fed the dog and the cat
- Took the dog to the beach
- Fed the horses
- Sent good morning text to Elaine (for now I reception in the pasture)
- Farrier came to trim the horses hooves and put new shoes on KTJ and Zip
- Had a great workout with Chocolate in the afternoon
- Had dinner with Carole and Rolf
- Watched a sappy Hallmark Christmas romance - 'cause Rolf likes them
- Blustery with passing showers overnight. Windy but sunny all day.
