A perspective on "manana"

We moved into our new house on Callejon de Hidalgo just under a week from when we actually recieved the keys. We receieved the keys on November 7th. Our lease states that we recieved the property in perfect condition. Isn't that a cute clause? When I read it over,  I advised the agent that there were some things that we could not check, like hot water and gas, as we had no appliances and no gas.

No problem, completely understandable, he says, he is at our service if we need anything.

It took us a full week of calling the gas company and trying to order gas before a lady took pity on me on a Sunday morning and slowly explained, as if I was 12 and most obviously needed to be taken by the hand, that for a stationary tank on the roof, I needed to have a technico come to inspect the tank, for safety. She told me my Spanish was very poor, and no, the technico was not supplied by the gas company, I needed to find one on my own. If the tank was safe, he would give me a clearance paper and with that, I call back and they deliver the gas.

Ralph and I looked at each other and wondered where the heck we were going to find a technico. I suggest we go to the nice hardware store that we like and ask them, perhaps they can refer us. BINGO! We get the card for the service, but they don't work on Sunday.

Monday morning we call first thing, and the person says that they can come and inspect, but it will be later in the day, and it will cost 100 pesos. (Same day service for less than $10 Canadian dollars!) We wait. In the meantime we run into our neighbour and she insists that if work is required, to get the architect to come and have the landlady pay.

Monday at 7 p.m the technicos arrive with flash lights. The tank is dangerous. Peligroso. Must be replaced. Work estimate is $6500 pesos. I send a long note, in Spanish, to our realtor to have him contact the landlady. Basically, I want the work done and I am not paying for it.

Tuesday, the landlady considers this.

Wednesday, we get a note to say "her guy" is coming with "his guys" to evaluate the situation and do the work. Ramon the architect appears, sunglasses, leather coat, soft shoes. He establishes that yes, the tank must be replaced and the hot water heater as well, as it is also ancient.

Thursday, he promises, the work will commence, and it does.

However, by Friday the workers discover that not only does the tank need to be replaced, but all of the valves and joiners are also failed, and parts for these must be sourced.

By Saturday afternoon, the last of the required parts arrive. No work on Sunday. Monday morning, our workers are back, but the jeffe, the big boss, arrives on our doorstep and pleads an urgent issue elsewhere. Visions of urgent dance through our heads: gas leaks, plumbing disasters. We let our guys leave. By Wednesday afternoon we feel that urgent matters must now have been addressed, so we send off notes to Ramon and our realtor, trying to get a fire burning.

The fire has burned bright enough by Friday morning and our guys are back. Today, Saturday, my stove works and on Monday I will likely have hot water.

Through this whole experience, I recall moments during our many renovations in Canada when I was on the phone with one of the home building centres, demanding to know why flooring had been sitting in the storeroom and no one thought to call to let me know my order had arrived, or the kitchen counter guy had to come back and install the counter three times because it had been cut incorrectly. I recall stories from friends whose sink was back ordered 6 weeks, or IKEA kitchens ordered only to discover that a specific unit was no longer being made.

Has work been slow. Yup. Has the process been frustrating. Yup. Any different in Oaxaca? They work 10 hour days, 6 days per week, and they are polite and kind and it is warm and sunny, so I will personally take the Oaxaca version in a pinch

Parking Ticket

On Friday afternoon I was out shopping for screws to hang a curtain rod. Parking was very limited in the area of our favourite hardware store. On a side street I saw a long section of open curb space. What luck! I did notice a big "E" with a line through it on the street which means "No Parking". But it did not make sense to me. "Because?" you may ask.

Because, there was a parking lot on the other side of the sidewalk and the entrance was behind where I parked. No way would I be blocking the parking entrance. And besides, people seem to park anywhere they like. So off I went.

I was only gone 10 minutes at most. As I was approaching my car I saw a couple of parking guys strolling down the street. I quickly walked around to the front of the car and saw the parking ticket under the wiper blade. I picked it up and called out to the parking enforcement guy. "Are you truly giving me a parking ticket?", I asked. "Certainly" he responded. "You are in the 'No Parking' zone.", he said very un-apologeticly. Well, I couldn't argue with that logic so I asked where I had to go to pay the fine. He told me then strolled off with his buddy.

Okay, this seems simple enough. Go to the Municipal building downtown and pay the fine. Yes, pay the fine and get my front licence plate back and put it back on my car. Yes, that's right! They took the plate off the car. Apparently the parking enforcement officers carry tools for exactly that purpose. This is an incentive for people to pay the fines. If you do not pay the fine withing 30 days the fine is increased by the original amount. And, if you are stopped for any other reason and you do not have plates on your car you get another fine. And so on and so on!

If you pay the fine within the first 15 days you get a 50% discount. Now, that is an incentive. Of course I do not know what the fine will be because it is not written on the ticket. Maybe $900 pesos.

So the ticket paying process is:
1. Get copies made of your identification. Passport, driver's licence, etc.
2. Stand in line to pay the ticket.
3. Take your payment receipt to the other office across the hall.
4. Stand in line to get your plate back.
5. Present your payed receipt and copies of your identification to the clerk.
6. Wait while he finds your plate and looks-up his copy of your parking ticket in his files and then you write your name and address on the back of his copy signifying that you received your plate.

I was surprised to see that the ticket only cost about C$25. Less expensive then a Toronto parking ticket. Great!

As I write this little blurb it doesn't sound so bad as when I was actually doing it. First off, it was very hot yesterday and it was a 15 minute walk to the Municipal building. I was sweating by the time I got there. I need to walk slower. I went to the little shop next door where they make photocopies. These places are everywhere it seems. Well, this one's copy machine is out of order. I am directed to another just down the way.

'Down the way'. Sure, another 15 minute walk in the heat, stopping at 3 other places asking where a copy place may be then finally being directed to a local Hotel where they made me 2 copies of my passport and car registration for 2 pesos. Very expensive, the equivalent of $.10 Canadian each. Regular copy places charge $.02 each. Oh well!

The only money I had with me at the time was a two hundred peso bill. Which means that I needed one hundred and ninety-eight pesos in change. The front desk clerk had to search around for change and ended up in a secretive closet across the hall and returned with my change which consisted of a fifty peso bill and the remainder in coin. No wonder I was so worn and hot when I returned to the Municipal building to pay the fine. Not only was it hot but I was carrying so much metal.

What did I learn from all this? "Don't get a parking ticket!"

Cat Fight!

About a week and a half ago, at our little house we had initially rented in the hill, I was woken up in the middle of the night to the guttural sounds of a cat fight. Right away I scanned for Diego, who was not with me in his usual sleeping spot in bed! Yikes! I rushed to the window and called him, interrupting the cat fight. He came inside shortly afterwards, and as soon as he got in, i had the light on and was pinning him to the bed to try and see if he was the one who had gotten into the fight. He was! His little ear had some blood on it, and he was terrified. I cleaned him up as best as he would let me, put a little bit of antibiotic on his ear, and figured we'd wait and see.

Well two days of him hiding in the closet, and I decided on the third day that if he was not better, we were going to the vet. We came home from painting at the new place to find his ear covered in blood and he smelled of infection, from two wounds I had not previously seen.

Search for vets online.
Call. No answers. It is 3:40. Siesta is over at 4:00.
Wait 20 minutes. Ugh.
Call at 4:01 the vet that is closest to our new place. They pick up!
Do they accept cats as patients? Yes!
Can I come right now? Yes!

Grab cat carrier, favorite fleece blankie and Diego and into the van and off to the vet we go.

I now realize, on the 7 minute drive there, that I have no vet vocabulary. I have his vet records from Canada from before we left. That's it. I don't even know if the definition of cat fight is different for the cat version versus the version between women.

We arrive. How to describe the event which has brought us to Dr. Diez?

Me: Hace quatro noches... MEOW, KSSS, GRRR, WREEE!!!

(You must imagine me trying to intimate a cat fight, hands curled into claws, scratching, making these weird cat like noises...)

Ralph and Diego look on sadly. The vet says, "ah, si".

She then asks a series of related queries, in Spanish, which we are able to answer, miraculously. She says she is going to get some supplies and she'll be back. When she comes back she tries to clean the wound and Diego is NOT happy. She looks at him and I ask her if she would like to give him a sedative. I am presuming the word is roughly the same: sedativo.

She says yes, and then has a long look at him and then tells me she is wondering if it should be by injection or gas.

What a second! We're talking about the same thing, here, right? You are just doing to sedate my cat, not put him to sleep, right? How to ask this? I stumble around the words "para calmar" and "no para dormir pour la vida" and she assures me that no, she is not going to euthanize my little fur ball, just chill him out so she can shave him, clean the wounds and assess the damage. She wraps Diego up like a little burrito in his fleece blanket and as she is carrying him to her surgery, she tells us we can come back in 30 minutes.

We go for coffee in a failed attempt to pretend we are fine and not worried.

Thirty minutes later we are back with a partially shaved and very stoned Diego. Dr. Diez explains that there were actually several puncture wounds, and one on his ear actually went right through the delicate ear skin. He was quite infected and will be on strong antibiotics and pain meds, and she will see him again on Saturday, please.

Time for the bill. Ralph and I hold our breath as she calculates it. In Canada, we estimate we would be talking roughly $600 or more.

She shows us the figure. 410 pesos. The rough equivalent of $35 Canadian. Amazing.

Just imagine the story she told to her family that night at dinner!

Lights and Gas

We just sort of moved in last night. This means that we slept in the new house and brought over the cat (Diego). We still have clothes and a few other things at the little house in the hills that we rented for 3 weeks while we got established.

Established is a big word. I will consider us established when we can cook on the new stove. Let me back up a little here.

Last Friday which was our second week in Oaxaca we received the keys to the apartment. I call it a house because it has four floors. Maybe an apartment because we rent. Anyway, we received the keys late in the day.

First off we discover that the upstairs bathroom door is closed and locked. We do not have the key to unlock it which means that we need a locksmith. So on last Saturday we go to Home Depot (yes we have one here) and buy a new door knob, a light sconce and 2 track lights for the kitchen.

I drill out the key hole to remove the old lock on the bathroom door. Boy! That metal is hard. But while I was trying to drill out the lock I see that the plate over the knob cab pop off and then the whole lock can be easily removed. Lucky me.

Next is the installation of the track lights. The 2 existing kitchen lights are bare bulbs that dangle on the wires protruding through a round hole in the centre of a square metal plate.

No problem I think, just snip off the bulb par, keep the wires and attach the new fixture using the screws that hold the square plate in place. Oh, oh! The screws are set wider apart than the new fixture. I have a fix for that, just drill 2 holes in the plate the right distance apart and screw the fixture bracket to that. Super. Oh, oh! The bracket now covers the hole where the wires protrude. Okay then. Let's drill two holes in the plate beside the bracket large enough for the wires to come through. Note that I was not stupid and did the drilling while the metal plate was attached to the ceiling. I removed the plate and did all the drilling outside.

After that it was easy to attach the light.

The fridge and stove arrive on Monday. That's a good start. But I have to connect the gas to the stove so off we go to the handy dandy hardware store that has everything. That is, if you know the Spanish words for things. But with pictures that I draw and the manual for the stove I get the connectors, the flexible hose and an adjustable wrench - we are good to go.

Back home I connect the stove. Now let's turn on the gas. The gas (propane) tank is on the roof. So Tanya and I take the circular iron staircase up to the roof with the plan to have Tanya open the valve while I go back downstairs to check for leaks using soapy water. Great to have a plan. Oops! The gas valve does not budge. We are stopped. Let's call the landlord to get the valve open.

Days go by and no response from the landlord. But good news, the beds arrive on Thursday. Fantastic. We decide on Friday night to sleep over and bring the cat. I'll get the gas resolved in the morning.

Ah ha! I get the gas valve open but too bad-no gas in the tank anyway. So we call Gas de Oaxaca who will deliver gas sometime. I cannot understand the gentleman's reply of when the gas will arrive. Maybe this morning or afternoon. Maybe never but I will stay home and wait.

Good news though. After waiting all day yesterday for the cable guys to come and install internet and TV access they arrive this morning at 9:30 am and we had service by 11:00.

So here I am, Saturday afternoon sitting alone in our kitchen waiting for the gas to arrive while Tanya is out at the fabric store getting materials to cover all of our windows. Maybe we will be established by nightfall.

Between 11:30 and 4:00 on Sunday. Yeah, right....

Last week and this next week will be filled with moving. I am so sick of moving. In preparation for moving to Oaxaca, we have sold three houses in 18 months, moved 4 times, staged 2 of the three houses, which means stuff in and, sometimes, out of storage, and more cleaning and scrubbing, painting and curtain hanging that a normal-ish person would do in a lifetime. I have lived in boxes, in limbo, for way too long.

Interesting, Ralph and I are stressed about such different things. Ralph about actually living here, me about getting Ralph to understand that we need furniture. We decided to not move the majority of our furniture here, as the cost to ship was about the same as it will cost us to replace.

(Let's take a moment here to talk about the word replace. Finding a sofa in this town that is not one of those overstuffed things that scream "bachelor pad" is like finding a needle in a haystack. Same for chairs. Small side tables - no such thing. I may toss in the towel and buy an 80 inch TV - you can get one of these at the grocery store - and really bad furniture and call it "guy chic", but not for another week!)

The apartments here do not come with a fridge or a stove, actually no hard appliances at all. You cannot buy a dishwasher here, by the way. Takes employment away from someone. It is also common to take your laundry out to have it done for you. Inexpensive, but not a lot of customization options, like if you want your pants shrunk, they can do that in a snap. Hang something to dry? Use soap? Nope, not a chance.

Now, at home when one orders appliances, you are given an inconvenient delivery time that spans the entire day. Someone either has to work from home or take the day off. And if you are lucky, and the stars collide, nothing goes wrong and the appliances are delivered, and they fit, and the delivery persons take the garbage away.

Ha, ha, ha. Right. I ordered appliances on Thursday. After the fiasco of ordering them (this deserves its own post, but in short, sales kids who know nothing about their products, a cashier who doesn't believe I live where I live, and Mastercard who block the international transaction, todo en espagnol, por favor) the cashier lady says they will be delivered on Sunday the 9th, between 11 and 4:30. The 9th? Sunday? Really? Yes she insists, the 9th!

Well guess what? No appliances.

What are the chances my mattresses will be delivered on "Wednesday or Thursday" and that they will call me 1 day before delivery?

Start the laugh track now.

Typical... For us, anyway

We have found a house to live in. Although we put the deposit down on it today, and we get the keys on Friday, we had initially looked at the locations last Thursday, October 30th, about 3 days after actually arriving in Oaxaca and selected it one week in, so all things considered (like nothing happens here work wise for the entire 4 days of festivals for the Day of the Dead) not bad overall.

I had been hesitating posting about our new house because I wanted to get a Day of the Dead/Tour Research post in here. Then I thought it had been WEEKS since we had posted and I realized in has only been about 5 days.


We selected charm and location over renovated. I am pretty sure the sight of the place as it is now would send many of our friends running to their budget spreadsheets and reworking their numbers to figure out how they could pay more rent or, heaven forbid, live out of town. Perhaps because we have owned homes before, and renovated 3 and built a 4 season bunk house from scratch, the roughness around the edges of this place does not have us that concerned. And there is a Home Depot in Oaxaca. Wait. That was worth saying twice. There is a Home Depot in Oaxaca. Can I get a whoo hoo, please?

If the condition were not enough to scare the pants of the well seasoned, the work to be done in the short timeframe might. We need to clean, clean, clean, paint almost the whole house, put in a new faucet and shower head in the bathroom as well as new light fixtures, decide what to do with and subsequently arrange to do that to two of the three bedroom floors, select and order furniture and appliance and have them delivered, talk each other out of the 70 inch television, arrange to have gas delivered and the stove hooked up, arrange internet service and possibly phone service... And a few other odds and ends... In 10 days.

Typical Tanya and Ralph, right friends?