Power Rituals

Power is a precious commodity here in Albania, one that, generally, Americans take for granted. A house may lose power in America once or twice a year as the result of a severe thunderstorm. Here in Tirana, I lose power approximately once a day, for periods ranging from five minutes to seven hours. I am continually astounded by what human beings can get used to when they must.

With Tirana's winter temperatures hovering in the neighborhood of thirty to forty degrees, and homes built with no insulation, one comes to depend on heating appliances. When home are purchased or rented in Albania, and most of Europe for that matter, they do not come with central heating, refrigerators, stoves, washing machines, or dishwashers. These items are far too costly to purchase, so settling on the one essential item, I purchased an oil heater for my bedroom. Given the lack of insulation, it is often colder inside my apartment then outside. The heater slowly heats my small bedroom and every night, I utter a silent prayer that the power will not go out until the bedroom is slightly warm.

After three weeks in this apartment, from hereon known as, the Luminous Lakeside Sanctuary, because my four floor to ceiling windows welcome gallons of sunlight during the day and the walls are washed in glowing candlelight at night. Lakeside because I live right next to Tirana's Liqeni Artificiel, or Artificial Lake, and sanctuary is the sacred space I cultivated in which to write my book and nurture body, mind, and spirit. Anyway, when the power goes off in the Luminous Lakeside Sanctuary, I immediately engage in a preservation ritual that goes something like this. When the power disappears at night, I instantly light the candle on my nightstand. Then I double my down comforter and I double the ultra thick Albanian rose embossed blanket to achieve maximum warmth once the room loses all heat from the oil heater and becomes a chilly mausoleum. Then I go to my mint green swirl patterned tile bathroom and wash my face before the last of the hot water vanishes with the rest of the heat. Gathering another set of candles from the kitchen drawer, I retreat back to my bedroom, burrow into my blanket quartet, and read by candlelight until I fall asleep. Even during the blissful unconsciousness of sleep, when I hear the comforting click of my heater, I know the power has returned.

But when I awake to no power, I am livid because this means I cannot engage in the morning espresso making ritual. So far, this has happened three times in three weeks and quite frankly, it ruins my day!

For all of my readers out there in the blogosphere, please take a moment to appreciate the things you usually take for granted, such as lights, hot water, and a less corrupted government that doesn't sell it's power to neighboring countries while not providing 24/7 power to its own populace. And like my fabulous mother conditioned me to turn off the lights and to unplug the appliances that are not in use, be cognizant about what you use, when you use it and how much you truly need. Electricity, or drite, an Albanian word I had to learn quickly, is precious, so use it sparingly and express gratitude when you have it.