Mauritius is under a Class III warning since 5pm yesterday. Anya & Kyan are experiencing a cyclone with full awareness for the first time. We had a powercut from 4pm to 10pm and thus had a candlelight dinner and night. This was quite new for them and I can imagine how this must have impressed their young minds (so accustomed to electricity and technology) as mine was in my own childhood.
In fact, it made me think of the old poverty days when we used to live in a fragile wooden house with iron sheets on the roof and lots of window panes in the living room (‘la varangue’). The adults would consolidate the openings with wood and we also used to crowd into one single room to spend the night. As a child, I was probably not fully aware of the danger (we had lots of trees that could damage the house if brought down by the violent gusts) but I felt somewhat exhilarated by this exceptional/abnormal ambiance.
I often dream of that wooden house with its large yard where I spent a major part of my childhood. I feel that wooden houses are alive and speak to me. I remember that I used to imagine that the walls had secret caches with long held treasures waiting to be discovered. The cave under the house also held some appeal though a bit daunting because of its obscurity.
And I had a special link with the trees, specially the mango tree which had a special curve in which I used to sit to read a book, sing a song (my favorite was ‘Lundi matin, le roi, la reine et le p’tit prince…) or even watch over the neighbour’s activities…