I never thought I'd miss the sound of the guards running across the yard to the generator when the electricity went out in Buj. Here, when the power goes out, the concierge busts into the apartment several times to throw switches all over the place. That's much less convenient at ten o'clock at night than waiting for guards to get the generator going.
I know that both in Buj and here we are fortunate enough to have generators that work most of the time. I'm trying to be thankful for what we have. But I'm cranky this morning. The power went out last night just as they were revealing who was going home on Master Chef Australia, one of the few non-Indian tv shows here. It would have been the perfect time to go to sleep, except the concierge kept coming in and out and when the power came back on in the rest of apartment, it stayed off in the bedroom, so the concierge kept coming in and out of that room in particular to flip switches. Eventually the power was back on, which meant the fan was on and the concierge didn't need to come in anymore. I was able to sleep and it felt so good after my sleepless, jetlagged nights. At two in the morning, though, Muffin decided it was time to party. I got her back to sleep at four, laying on top of me, and dozed off again myself only for the two of us to awake in a sweaty mess a couple hours later because the electricity was off again.
Thank goodness the power came on long enough for Mike to make coffee before he left for work.