The Chill Sets In

My body is accustomed to 15 mile outdoor workouts in all kinds of weather. As a result, I adapt easily to more moderate variations in temperature. Starting in October, as my wife is getting cold at every chill, she repeats the question, “Aren’t you cold?”

“I don’t believe in cold,” is my October/November reply.

Now Thanksgiving approaches. Awaiting relief from the chill of the street, the corresponding chill lurking unexpectedly inside my house foreshadows the true danger looming in Kabul’s coming winter - the inability to take refuge from the freeze. January temperatures are only slightly below zero, not in itself a colossal disaster, if only it would stay outside. But the houses here are poorly constructed and poorly heated. The electricity comes and goes – and in the frozen, dry winter time (hydroelectric power being an important source) it mostly goes. The chill slowly but steadily mounts, on both sides of the front door. The refrigerator doesn’t work without electricity, but only the freezer is really a loss. Almost anywhere in the house will do to keep something refrigerated. And ice making capability, sans electricity, is only weeks away.

Still in memory are the winter nights spent in sleepless shivering under every blanket and piece of heavy clothing that I own. Still in memory are those winter mornings of bundling up to brave the outdoors, only be pleasantly surprised that the strong desert sun had warmed up the city without warming up inside the house. Even in the dead of winter, I sometimes lack enough faith to be cold.