On January 4th I sent an email to my Mom. I caught her up on life in Soroti, Uganda. I asked questions about news from home. I told her I loved and missed her. And somewhere in the middle of all that, I threw in a one line paragraph.
On January 5th we met Florence, the woman who would be cooking for us all month. She came clutching a black plastic bag and as she left, she presented it to us. Inside was a coke bottle full of frozen water. Aka, ice.
On January 6th our contact showed up with a small refrigerator to store our food and juice in. (He told us we don’t need sodas, juice is better for us. He obviously doesn’t know Team Quake!) We filled it with our water bottles and went to bed. When we woke up the next morning, everything was frozen. We checked the temperature, planning on setting it to a warmer level. But we realized it didn’t go any warmer. And then it hit us…Our fridge is, in fact, a freezer.
