The day breaks crisp and clear. Condensation covers the bedroom windows which have been sealed with plastic sheeting as a kind of cheap and seasonal double glazing for winter. The early morning sun glows orange through the frosted glass. Still, the insulation isn’t so effective as to prevent the cold from penetrating my house. My breath is visible as I get up to fill the kettle from my kitchen tap and light the gas hob. These comforts I do have in the crib I call home and which I finally moved into last week. Frequent power outages and insufficient water pressure to motivate the hot water to flow from my boiler are inconvenient. However, I am fortunate that my day does not start with a walk along the rutted, muddy and frost-hardened street to pump water from the well. For many of my neighbours this is a daily task.
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