Digging Stumps
In one sense, Guatemala is a hermit’s paradise. Much personal and official business can be taken care of right at your gate. You barely have to leave the house. The water truck delivers water jugs. The cable guy shows up with the bill on his outdated Honda dirt bike (you pay cash on the spot). Four kids in bright yellow shirts came by last week to wash my car in the garage. Every restaurant, from McDonalds to Fratelli (the upscale Italian place we like) to Pollo Campero (Guatemala’s national chicken joint), delivers by motorcycle, rain or shine. It’s brilliant really. And cheap! I paid the four kids in yellow about $3.00 to wash my car.
On the other hand, if you do have to leave the house—to get your car fixed, for instance, or to wire money, or to find a birthday party across town, or to buy a calling card—it’s like digging up a stump (“pulling teeth” is too cliché, and doesn’t really fit). I remember digging up stumps in my Dad’s backyard. It always took longer than you thought, and you always ran into hidden roots that were more difficult to chop through than you could have imagined. By the time you finished (which in our case usually involved attaching a chain to the Ford and slinging it around the stump trusting the bumper to hold) all you wanted to do was fall in the lake to cool off, then take a long nap (the equivalent here is to pop a Gallo, curse the third world, then take that nap).
It’s the same with service. If you can pay cash for something, things are pretty efficient, but if you have to call “customer service” for anything, forget it. Take the street light out in front of our house for instance, which has been out for over three weeks now. A service call to the electrical company is a waste of time. Knowing this, Tony, my neighbor, calls and tells them the street light is flickering and shooting sparks, that it’s nearly enflamed, and he’s afraid his house is going to catch fire. This story got them out four days later. There were three of them that showed up around 8:00 at night in an old rusted-out pick-up truck. There were no tools, no ladders in the truck. They milled around under the light for a few minutes, took a long hard look at it, discussed the matter. There were no sparks, of course. They asked me how long the light had been out. “Parra cinco semanas,” I lied. They said something in Spanish I couldn’t understand, then said “Nos vemos” and left. That was a week ago. The light’s still out.
Anyway, it’s a miracle things actually work here—the water, the electric, the phones, my Internet connection. It’s amazing this place didn’t fold long ago, throw in the towel, quit the game. As my neighbor Tony likes to say, “This place is a piece of shit.” I’m not sure I agree with him, but we find oursleves, Kris and I, shaking our heads at one another far too often. But life is more than efficiency, right? We’re learning this. There is a charm to Guatemala that is hard to explain, and despite the traffic, a calm that manages to trump whatever challenges the place throws at us. I’m even beginning to like it here.
On the other hand, if you do have to leave the house—to get your car fixed, for instance, or to wire money, or to find a birthday party across town, or to buy a calling card—it’s like digging up a stump (“pulling teeth” is too cliché, and doesn’t really fit). I remember digging up stumps in my Dad’s backyard. It always took longer than you thought, and you always ran into hidden roots that were more difficult to chop through than you could have imagined. By the time you finished (which in our case usually involved attaching a chain to the Ford and slinging it around the stump trusting the bumper to hold) all you wanted to do was fall in the lake to cool off, then take a long nap (the equivalent here is to pop a Gallo, curse the third world, then take that nap).
It’s the same with service. If you can pay cash for something, things are pretty efficient, but if you have to call “customer service” for anything, forget it. Take the street light out in front of our house for instance, which has been out for over three weeks now. A service call to the electrical company is a waste of time. Knowing this, Tony, my neighbor, calls and tells them the street light is flickering and shooting sparks, that it’s nearly enflamed, and he’s afraid his house is going to catch fire. This story got them out four days later. There were three of them that showed up around 8:00 at night in an old rusted-out pick-up truck. There were no tools, no ladders in the truck. They milled around under the light for a few minutes, took a long hard look at it, discussed the matter. There were no sparks, of course. They asked me how long the light had been out. “Parra cinco semanas,” I lied. They said something in Spanish I couldn’t understand, then said “Nos vemos” and left. That was a week ago. The light’s still out.
Anyway, it’s a miracle things actually work here—the water, the electric, the phones, my Internet connection. It’s amazing this place didn’t fold long ago, throw in the towel, quit the game. As my neighbor Tony likes to say, “This place is a piece of shit.” I’m not sure I agree with him, but we find oursleves, Kris and I, shaking our heads at one another far too often. But life is more than efficiency, right? We’re learning this. There is a charm to Guatemala that is hard to explain, and despite the traffic, a calm that manages to trump whatever challenges the place throws at us. I’m even beginning to like it here.
posted by Daniel Todd at 7:25 AM
1 Comments:
Who's "Harp?" And what state do you live in? Must be Illinois. I always had good luck with Cinergy, Cincinnati's finest. Same-day response anyway.
Those kids made about 75 cents apiece to wash my car. Overpaid? Kristin used to spend at least $3.00 washing our van at this dingy little car wash across from the White Castle in Mt. Healthy! And believe me, they did a first rate job. Kristin on the other hand....
Not sure about the Unions, and not sure I could get a straight answer if I tried to find out. Paul, you don't know how true your comment really is. You nailed it. That's Guatemala too. Can't get a straight answer, an answer you can trust, out of anyone.
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