What to Do During Power Outages?
HAVANA TIMES – I watched a very funny video by a YouTuber about what to do during blackouts on our island. And of course, I also want to contribute my own take—why not? After all, whatever each person does with their time is valid.
I’ve made it a habit to call a number from the Electric Company every day at eight in the morning. Usually, a very kind female voice answers (never a male, it seems there are no male telephone operators); I speak to her respectfully to ask what time the power outage will happen.
That way I can plan—whether I’ll have time to cook with the pressure cooker or use the washing machine. With this routine, the blackout doesn’t catch me off guard. As the saying goes: “A warned soldier doesn’t die in battle.”
The last energy collapse, which lasted 48 hours, was a surprise, because that day was already scheduled for an energy cut due to shortages. So I wasn’t too worried and started reading by the light of a small flashlight-lamp, a biography of Katherine Mansfield, a New Zealand writer I greatly admire.
At midnight, a friend texted me saying the electrical system had collapsed completely—it was nationwide, all over Cuba.
I still didn’t worry too much, because earlier that morning I had turned on the building’s water pump, and we’d have enough water for a while. I also didn’t worry about food spoiling, since my freezer only had two pieces of chicken, which I quickly boiled and prepared for lunch.
Some people are lucky, they don’t have a hard time because they’ve bought generators, some of which run on gasoline or even gas. But of course, that takes money.
My son and a friend from Santa Clara, who was staying with us for a few days, went to charge all the phones at a friend’s apartment who has a generator. Then they went to a private business to play dominoes and drink beer. That place also has a generator. Young people always find a way to stay entertained.
I stayed home alone with my cat, and we went up to the rooftop. We still had the stars. No one can take the light from them. We stayed up there for a while. Then we went to bed.
When there are long blackouts during the day, since I can’t use the laptop—it has to be plugged in because the battery is dead—I usually read for at least two or three hours. I’ve lost the habit of writing by hand, although I do still take notes in a notebook.
Sometimes I go down to the coast to look at the sea, and I bring my book with me. I might take a long walk to Almendares Park and sit to watch the river, its calm waters.
If I feel like going further, I’ll spend some time in the Havana Forest, climbing up to the area with the stone arches. From up there, I can see the river and the vegetation.
I almost always spot a pair of squirrels running through the tree branches. They climb the tallest ones with amazing ease. It’s a beautiful sight, seeing how little they need to survive. If reincarnation is real, I’d like to come back as a squirrel.
“There’s no need to stress,” says Kay, a friend who lives in the seaside town of Cojimar. When there’s a blackout and she has the day off, she collects sea skeletons and shells to make crafts. She turns them into earrings and wind chimes. Handicrafts are a task that require a lot of patience.
She’s happy watching her two dogs play in the yard, and a frog that lives in a small pond among the plants. She connects with Mother Nature and suffers less. After all, our native indigenous people didn’t have electricity and walked around in loincloths. They ate cassava and navigated by the stars.