ORDEAL..........

Last night I perfected the wrist and upper arm moves essential to get the maximum breeze out of a paper fan on the right hand, and the wide arm swings to work the mossie bat on the left limb. The power had gone off yet again in Becora at 10pm. Usually it comes back on at midnight but last night, the electric fan didn’t whirl back to life at 12. I sat in the darkness, a candle flickering in the toilet, my husband asleep(he can sleep through any heat), while I nursed a sore back and a steadily rising body temperature.

I opened all the windows but not the slightest breeze stirred through the mossie nets to afford me relief. I fanned myself, nodding off with exhaustion and heat; occasionally jumping up when the mossie bat sparked when it collided with a winged creature that had managed to find its way into our room. ‘Piak piak piak.’Outside on the mango tree, a gecko called out. Their trademark cries always sounded like an expletive to me, “*uck you, *uck you”. I counted the number of times it cried out. A. always said that the geckos don’t go beyond 7 cries. This old gecko always seems to run out of steam by the sixth call, its last throaty vibration trailing off weakly.

I was so tired, I desperately wanted to crawl into bed but the moment I touched the bed, beads of perspiration broke out on my back. I fanned even more vigorously, giving me some relief but I knew the ‘exercise’ would make me even hotter. I can’t lie on my back these days as the ‘ball’ in front of me is simply too heavy and presses right into my back. So I tried to lean to the left but baby has a mind of his own, he hates this because his legs are squashed. He protests by kicking and stretches widely in all directions, stepping on my bladder and made me so uncomfortable I had to get up.

I’m back on the plastic chair, both hands in motion again, praying silently that the power would come back on. Another gecko called out. This time it’s a younger gecko. How could I tell? It just sounded more energetic and it actually made 7 cries robustly. Wow! Is this my lucky night then? Perhaps the power might come back soon. But no, the gecko’s cries were met with more silence. The full moon cast its light onto our bed, shining like a faint torch onto A’s legs. He slept so peacefully. I cast a jealous glance at him, wishing I could be the same but instead I was fretting over mossie bites while drenched in sweat.

I grew more and more desperate. I asked myself, ‘What if you weren’t pregnant? What would you do?’ I knew that I wouldn’t care less if I got bitten if I weren’t preggers, and I probably wouldn’t be heating up like I was. Suddenly, hot tears of anger sprung from my tired eyes. My breath was caught, and I started sobbing, the frustration flowing out. I thought to myself, ‘You can’t even deal with this heat, what would you do when baby is back in Timor with you and the power is like this again?’ At that thought, I got even more depressed and the sobs grew louder. Suddenly, A. stirred and got up. He sighed heavily, took over the fan and mossie bat and began his sentry duty. I felt so awful having woken him up, but also half glad because I wasn’t alone. At first, his unpractised hand could not yield a good breeze but after a few minutes, a cooling breeze swept over my hot body. I manage to calm down and enjoyed the moment, lying on my side while apologising for waking him up. He grunted in response, still half-asleep. I don’t know how long he fanned but eventually he got tired and I took the fan back. He fell back to bed and was in dreamland promptly.

Alone again. I was not as hot as before so I kept as still as possible to maintain my body temperature. Then I felt an itch on the sole of my feet and realised I had been bitten. Frustration swept over me again, while I used the other foot to relief the desperate itch. Ahhh! I felt like screaming. Then suddenly, something stirred to life – the fan! The lights in the rooms flickered on and the air-conditioner woke up. Yes! I hurried to shut the windows and fell back onto bed to enjoy the moving air. My joy was short-lived as five minutes later, silence greeted me again. By then, I was too exhausted to care, lying on my bed in defeat; miraculously 30 minutes later power came back again. I caught a glance at the time, 2am, and finally fell off into slumber.

I’m such a wimp.

p/s: the power sucks these days cos the 4.5mgwatt generator is down and the government is still in the process of repairing it. 4 more generators will be purchased by end of the year. I got this info from the newspapers yesterday...in case anyone is wondering why we're living in the dark ages here in oil rich timor.