Five Nights of Candlelight

PART I: An enlightening conversation

The Characters:
PCV
Empregada

Setting:
PCV’s house, Chicumbane

PCV: How many kilos of meat did you buy for the dogs?

Empregada: Just one. That’s all they had. I’ll have to go back tomorrow, but I need more money for transport

PCV: So… It’s costing me more to send you to buy dog food than to actually buy the dog food. Okay, fine. Can I have my change back? It should be 175 mts.

Empregada: Yeah, except I used three mets.

PCV: … Fine. Anyway, the past couple nights, the energy’s been going out right as it gets dark.

Empregada: It must be a problem with one of the wires. This whole block doesn’t have electricity. The electricity people probably don’t know.

PCV: So should I call somebody about this?

Empregada: (shrugs) It happens.

PART II: A day trip to the market

The characters:
PCV
Xai Xai market vendors

PCV: How much does this sweatshirt cost?

Vendor 1: 500 mets.

PCV: Okay. Thanks. I’m just looking.

Vendor 1: I’ll give you a discount.

PCV: It’s okay. I don’t really like the design.

Vendor 1: Why not?

PCV: I just… don’t?

Vendor 2: Come look at sweatshirts over here at my stall!

PCV: Aren’t these sweatshirts for men?

Vendor 2: No, you can wear them too. 600 mets.

PCV: I’m good. Thanks though.

Vendor 3: (grabs PCV’s arm) Hey white person! Do you see this sweatshirt I have? Do you see? Do you see?

PCV: Yeah. I see.

Vendor 3: Buy it!

PCV: (shakes arm free) No, I don’t like it.

Vendor 3: (laughing) She doesn’t like it!

(mocking, in a high pitched voice as PCV walks away) I don’t like it! I don’t like it!

PCV: (turns around) Why should I buy something that I don’t even like?

Vendor 3: You don’t like anything!

15 minutes later…

(PCV walking back with a different purchased sweatshirt in hand)

Vendor 1: You bought this but you didn’t buy my sweatshirt! They’re the same!

PCV: No, not really.

Vendor 1: What’s the difference?

PCV: Design? Price?

Vendor 1: Look, I’ll give you a good price. 400 mets. Buy it.

PCV: Seriously? I don’t need two sweatshirts.

Vendor 1: So you’re not going to buy anything from me?

PCV: Nope, not this time.

PART III: Demanding answers

The characters:
PCV
Electricity chefe

Setting: In an office in front of the electricity towers, which are behind a barbed wire fence manned by a guard. A man sits at a desk in a room barren save for a wall of switches and dials. He is reading a newspaper.

PCV: Good afternoon. My house hasn’t had electricity in about two days. Can you send someone to fix this?

Chefe: Where do you live?

PCV: Neighborhood one.

Chefe: Where in neighborhood one?

PCV: …

Chefe: Where is your house located?

PCV: In the middle of the neighborhood. I don’t know how to describe it.

Chefe: What are your neighbors’ names?

PCV: I’m not…sure which neighbors you are referring to. I don’t know their full names.

Chefe: (sighing patiently) Then how are we supposed to find your house?

PCV: … (Thinking: Maybe a home address system would work?)

Chefe: Well, I don’t deal with that problem anyway. Here, I’ll give you a number to call.

PARTI IV: Charcoal Stove

The characters:
PCV
Old man selling bread

Setting: Chicumbane market stall, where the old man sits on his chair smoking a cigarette, colorful capulanas hanging up behind him and two big bags of bread at his feet.

PCV: Hi, sir.

Old Man: There you are! You haven’t come by in days! How are you, my daughter?

PCV: (sighing) A little irritated. The power’s been out at my house for two days now.

Old Man: (clucking sympathetically) At my house too.

PCV: Why am I paying for electricity when I can’t even use it when I need it? I have an electric stove. I can’t even cook today!

Old Man: You must learn to cook with charcoal!

PCV: (groan)

Old Man: I will teach you.

PCV: Thanks. I’ll give you a call if it comes to that. How much is bread today?

Old Man: 7 mets.

PCV: Oops, I don’t think I have small change.

Old Man: That’s okay. Just take it and come by to pay for it tomorrow.

PCV: Thank you.

PART VI: Four Nights of Watching Candles Burn

Characters:
PCV
Next door neighbor

Setting: PCV’s house

(Darkness. Phone ringing.)

Man’s voice: Hello.

PVC: Um, hello. This is the fourth night in a row my electricity has gone out right as it gets dark. Can you tell me what’s going on?

Man’s voice: Where do you live?

PCV: Bairro 1, Chicumbane.

Man’s voice: (bored tone) We’re working on it.

---

Neighbor: What’s up with our energy?

PCV: I know! It went out on me tonight as I was cooking.

Neighbor: Me too! It’s dark in my kitchen. I can’t see anything.

PCV: I have an electric stove so I can’t even cook, and I’m starving.

Neighbor: We’re going to have to start eating our sweatshirts and capulanas if this keeps up. I sent my daughter to go buy some bread, but she came back empty-handed. Everyone at the market’s already gone home. (sigh) I can’t let her go hungry. I’ll have to cook in the dark, with firewood.

PCV: So strange, isn’t it? We always have electricity during the day… But once it hits 5 or 6pm, it goes out.

Neighbor: Yeah, and all our neighbors still have electricity.

---

(Darkness. Phone ringing.)

Man’s voice: Hello.

PCV: Hi, I called a couple hours ago. Is someone working on this problem? Because I’m still sitting in the dark.

Man: Yeah, the electricity guys are currently working in XaiXai. They’ll be there soon.

PCV: Are you sure? I would really like to get this problem resolved tonight.

Man: Oh, you want it resolved tonight?

PCV: … (Thinking: No, I’ve been calling multiple times every night because I’d like you to fix my electricity next month.) Yeah. Tonight would be great.

Man: Yeah, they’ll be there soon.

---

Neighbor: Hello! I brought you some rice and veggies! It’s not much but…

PCV: THANK YOU SO MUCH! I haven’t had a hot meal in days!

Neighbor: No problem.

PCV: The power doesn’t look like it’s going to come back on anytime soon. I’ll probably just go to sleep after this.

Neighbor: Might as well.

PART V:

On the fifth night without electricity, I have to go to a nearby neighbor’s house to ask them to finish boiling my spaghetti. (It's apparent they still have electricity because they are still blasting extremely loud music.) Something strange happens in the 30 minutes that the spaghetti sits in lukewarm water, because the two handfuls of dry spaghetti I cook produces only a small lump of thin noodles. I think my noodles dissolved, as has my patience with this situation.

At this point, the electricity operator is no longer picking up my phone calls.

PART VI: On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Electricity!

My guard Senhor Moniz, who reminds me of a chatty old grandfather, comes by at 8am to accompany me to the electricity office (once again). The same man I talked with at the beginning of the week jovially asks me if I have problems with my electricity again. Again? I haven’t stopped having problems. He says regretfully, they have already tried to resolve the problem. I’ll have to go to the main XaiXai office.

Sr. Moniz and I jump on a chapa to XaiXai. We explain the problem (for the past five nights, the electricity has gone out right at dusk and stays off until around 10pm or later) to the chefe, who asks where exactly I live in Chicumbane. The problem of explaining my house once again arises, except that this time, the people we’re explaining to aren’t from Chicumbane and have no idea who “Suzanna Mati” or “Salvador Malate,” my closest neighbors, are. Sr Moniz does all the talking and, when it’s apparent the electricity guys don’t understand his directions, the three grown men in suits are forced to pick up sticks and draw maps in the sand.

“Okay,” The electricity guys say. “We understand now. We’ll be there soon.” “Soon as in when?” I ask, because after repeated reassurances of “Yes, someone’s working on your problem” over the phone, I’m a bit wary of Mozambican time estimates. We arrange to meet at the pontinha (bridge) in half an hour to go to Chicumbane together. I finish my errands with Sr Moniz and wait for an hour and a half at the pontinha before the electricians arrive in their car.

“Your machine is broken,” They report after doing a quick examination of my fuse box and credit machine. “How is it broken?” I ask. “It’s still deducting money from me, even though I never have electricity.” (I’m grateful for Sr. Moniz’s presence, to defuse my frustration and my rude comments.) “One of your fuses is out too. You’ll have to buy a new one at the market and find someone to put it in for you. We’ll have to change your machine too but since today is Friday… You’ll either have only 5 kilowatts on the new machine for the whole weekend, or we’ll have to come back next week to change it.”

“Can’t you transfer my electricity credit to the new machine?”

“No.”

“So… I just paid 200 mets of credit last week for nothing. Or I have to live with this problem for a month until I finish all my credit.”

I’m about to cry, and the electricians look uncomfortable. Sr Moniz steps in. “She had to go to the neighbor’s house to cook dinner last night,” He says as if this explains everything.

“Oh. Electric stove?” One guy asks.

“Yup.”

The electricity guys go outside for a quick meeting and come back beaming, with a new fuse in hand. “We had this in the car. This will make sure your power doesn’t irregularly go off.”

The other guy is doing something with the supposedly broken credit machine. “I’m going to give you a freebie…” He sighs, almost reluctant. “Since I don’t work Monday or Tuesday, I’ll have to come back Wednesday to change our your machine. In the meantime, I’m setting this one so that it doesn’t deduct your credit.” So I go from no electricity to free/consistent electricity… Until Wednesday at least. I’m suddenly happier than I have been in…hmm… five days.

It’s now 6:30pm. I’m at half wattage, my lights are dim, and it’s taken me 30 minutes to unsuccessfully make popcorn (I’m pretty sure I’m just warming the unpopped kernels) but HEY! Life’s good!