3,000 Watts

Picture it. Sicily. 1922.

Okay, just kidding. It was actually La Maddalena, 2003.

La Maddalena is a tiny, Italian island off the northeast coast of Sardegna, which itself is an island about 120 miles west of mainland Italy. When I arrived there in the summer of 2003, I was 6 months pregnant with my first daughter. I was going to be stationed at the Naval Support Activity there and work as a paralegal in the base legal office.

There was base housing available, but it was on the other side of the island and not very convenient. Working at base legal, I also didn’t really want to live in base housing because everyone always pesters you with their “one quick question” scenarios. The questions were always quick, but the answers? Not so much. So instead, I went through the housing office and found a local rental that was close enough to walk to work every day.

Because Italian homes are often not “furnished” with kitchen items (even including cabinetry in some cases), the housing office would provide anything extra that was needed. That included a full-sized refrigerator and transformers that we could use to convert the outlets so we could use our own American electronic devices.

What I was not prepared for was the unexpected education I was about to receive on electricity.

Growing up in the U.S., I suppose I had always taken electricity for granted. I honestly never gave it a moment’s thought. That all changed in La Maddalena.

3,000 watts.

That was all the power to any home on the island. 3,000 watts.

To put that into perspective, a hairdryer typically used at least 1,500 watts. And remember those commercials about “energy hogs” when you leave electronic devices plugged in? All true. Every single watt mattered.

I thought I was going to lose my mind. How am I supposed to iron my uniform, sanitize baby bottles, and dry my naturally curly hair on 3,000 watts of electricity? It was an emotional and electrical battle for the ages.

You might be wondering, what about the oven and dryer? Gas. Propane, actually. But not plumbed into the house like Americans are used to in our homes. We used bombolas, as they were called there. Portable propane tanks. There was one attached to the oven, one for the dryer, and we even had one in a propane heater to warm up the house on the coldest winter days. And not a carbon monoxide detector in sight.

What were we thinking?

The disciples were hesitant about leaving on their two-by-two missions with nothing. But Jesus promised them God would provide. During the Last Supper, He reminds them of this. That process was an act of simplicity and faith. They placed their faith in God for provision, and they learned a lesson about simplicity as well.

In La Maddalena, I learned a little bit about living simply. Fresh, local food, taking a period of rest (riposo) every day, walking everywhere, and even getting by on only 3,000 watts. The simplicity of it was cleansing for the soul.

Somehow, we all survived. Not only did we survive, we thrived. At first, I saw the lack of electricity as a sacrifice. Truthfully, it wasn’t a sacrifice at all. It was an important lesson that became a blessing. I’ll never forget those 3,000 watts.