We wake to the sound of the wind howling round the house. The weather outside resembles a scene from Wuthering Heights. All we need is for Heathcliffe to come rushing past, calling 'Cathy! Cathy! Where are you?' Yesterday, it was 32C. Winter happens regularly on a Wednesday these days.
Sian is up early. 'It's cold,' she says. I agree.
The power is off. This is not unusual and nor is it a problem. However, it always seems to happen when we have guests.
I go to work. The guard at the gate greets me with a nod. 'It's cold today.' I nod in agreement. At 9.20, John messages me to say the power is still off, but breakfast went well. He has given our guests $8 bond to get into the Railway Museum as they have no Zimbabwean money and changing money at the bank is likely to be long and fruitless. $8 bond is nothing. It's worth about US60c. I don't mind giving them the money, it's just that finding cash is always so difficult. The bank allows us to take $50 out a week. This is the equivalent of US$3.33.
I go home at lunchtime. The power is still off. Thinking it is load shedding, we expect it back at 2pm. Both my extra lessons are cancelled due to illness. 'It's the weather,' says one of the mothers. 'It's so cold.'
At 3pm, Ellie goes to the nextdoor neighbours and asks if they have electricity. Yes, they do. This is strange. I phone ZESA. It takes at least 26 attempts before someone answers the phone. They haven't heard of a problem, but they will investigate and get back to me. I thank them and give them my phone number.
I take my dad out for coffee. Today would have been my parents' 48th wedding anniversary. For the first time since my mother's death last year, my dad admits that life has been difficult without her. He doesn't know what to do, he says. If only he knew what to do.
On the way back, I try and buy electricity. The first shop has it, but only for cash. I have no cash. I go to TelOne where there is thankfully no queue. 'It's cold,' says the lady at the counter as I hand over my bank card. I agree. She shakes her head when I ask if I can buy $100 worth of electrcity. Apparently, the system can only handle amounts under $50. She tries for $50, then $40, then $20 but the response is always 'meter number unknown'. I try at a shop near Spar, but they, too, are offline. 'It's cold,' says the woman running the shop as though this accounts for the system being down. I go home. The power is still off. No one has been to investigate and no one has phoned back.
I try phoning ZESA. It takes me another eleven attempts to get an answer. The transformer has blown on Cecil Avenue. They will look at it tomorrow. We put the inverter on. It runs for about an hour before it starts beeping. Unfortunately, we have not charged it for a while. We unplug everything except the lead that runs to the cottage and powers one of the lamps. We have a few small solar lights that we use to navigate the house. At 8.30, the beeping starts again. We switch off the inverter and go to bed.
It's cold.
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