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
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
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