If ya just love Mexico or you think I shouldn’t complain about living here because I’m not Mexican, then just stop reading now. I would like to say that I don’t know what it’s like in other parts of Mexico. Maybe it’s better, maybe it’s worse, but I live in this $h%tH&le, Cancun, so it’s the only place I can talk about.
For the most part, I hate living here. Today I have the perfect example to explain why. It’s not that I don’t have good examples all the time, everyday in fact, but today I have been pushed to the edge of my patience. I normally try to relax, be happy, not let it bother me, but today well F&%K that.
On Saturday I got the air-conditioning in my car fixed. My husband left the car at the shop in the morning. It took a little longer than they said it would, but no biggie, they called me around 3:00 pm to tell me it was finished. They actually drove the car to my house, and I paid them (only about 110. U.S.), and the air was working fine.
I should have known it was too good to be true.
Yesterday, the air stopped working again, and there was a new, strange sound as well. I called the guy and told him and he asked if I could bring him the car. I said I could drop it off around 1:00 pm, but that I would need it back before 6:00 pm so that I could pick my son up from daycare. He said it would be better if I could bring it first thing in the morning (today) because they were working on other cars. I asked what time they open and he told me at 8:00 am.
So yesterday afternoon I asked my husband if he could drop the car off for me this morning and he said he would. This morning, he asked me why I couldn’t take it in. (I will try not go into this part of the story very much. I’ll just let you imagine what I thought about that after he already told me that he would take it in for me.) So, at 8 I left for the shop. It is Mexico after all and I figured I would show-up a little after 8 in case the dude was a little late.
First, I got lost. I never go to this area of town and the streets here, especially in that area, are like a maze. (Keep in mind that it’s also rush hour and please remember my previous posts about how people here drive.) When I finally found the place, it was closed. I banged on the doors, called the guy’s cell about 10 times (he didn’t answer) and sent him a text message (he didn’t respond). Then I waited in my (warm, the air doesn’t work) car for about 30 minutes in a dangerous spot where I could have been rear-ended at any moment so that I could see the doors of the shop in case someone showed-up. In the end, frustrated and furious, I gave-up and came to work.
Then my husband called me. I told him what had happened and then said good-bye. I thought it would be better if I didn’t say anything else at that time.
While writing this, the guy called me and said “lo que pasa es que” (this is the standard phrase that people use when they have screwed something up) which loosely translates to “what happened is”. What happened is, he was working on a car and couldn’t hear his phone. Whatever. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t there as I think he would have heard me pounding on the huge metal doors. I explained to him that now I was at work, and I asked him if I bring the car in at 1:00 pm, will it be ready before 6:00 pm? He said, “OH YES,” as if there was no question. Yeah right.
The worst thing about all this is not that the air wasn’t really fixed, it’s not that he didn’t put me in front of everyone else yesterday to re-fix something that was supposedly already fixed, it’s not that he told me to be there at 8:00 am and wasn’t there, it’s not that he didn’t answer my phone calls or text. The worst thing is that I really can’t say $h&t about it. In the U.S. it is generally acceptable to get at least a little impatient with someone once they have put you through a fiasco like this, but here, oh no! People here completely shut down when you point out that they have been irresponsible. And once they shut down, you are never going to get what you want. So, you don’t even have the luxury of venting or getting an apology.
And I would just like to add one more thing. Mechanics treat women like crap, like we are dumb. I would like to say that I realize that this is most likely the case in the U.S. as well. Either way, it’s precisely the reason I don’t like to deal with them. My husband thinks cooking is “women’s work”, well taking the car in to get repaired (and re-repaired) is “man’s work”.
My husband just called again. I guess he thinks he fixed it all by calling the guy and asking what happened, which is why the guy in turn called me. Gee thanks.
Well I must say that I do feel better after writing the whole thing down. Thanks for listening, and agreeing with me. lol