Still no water....maybe today

Well Thursday started gloomy and overcast.  So did I!

Our first task was to go to the Lyonnaise d'eaux [water company] to pay for a new meter we did not request, about which we were not informed nor consulted, which we didn't want and which means that we have no water supply to the house.  When we arrived at the office [and I use the term loosely - it was just a room full of defunct computers, road signs, fire extinguishers and dirty cups], it was empty, vacant, desolate.  Not a person in sight, despite the fact that we had an appointment.  Chris phoned the chap we were supposed to meet and he said that he would be there soon.  After 10 minutes we gave up and I beetled off to the laundrette while Chris went back to pay an extortionate amount for the meter we didn't request etc.

The stint at the laundrette took me back 35 years to the times when life was tough and the laundrette was a weekly event, so did nothing to lighten my mood.

A bit of shopping was followed by a visit to our neighbour [the widow of the chap who just died].  We took some flowers and she seemed quite pleased, although difficult to be really sure because of her strong regional accent, wheezing chest and peripatetic teeth.

While Chris met the plumber in an attempt to get some water supply to the house, I struggled unsuccessfully to get the wood burner to work and then struggled to understand the manual for my new pressure cooker.

Long story short, the plumber put in a temporary connection, it worked and at that point they discovered the pipes had not been properly drained last Autumn, one had frozen and consequently burst.  Water disconnected and plumber beat a hasty retreat to another one of his many jobs and will return on MONDAY.

As I threatened to have a coronary there and then, before even putting the pork and prunes into the blessed pressure cooker, Judith stepped into the breach and offered us the gite for another couple of days.  What a lifesaver and let's hope the water situation is resolved tout suite or I'm off back to Pretoria on the next plane.

Home Sweet Home for the time being - thanks to Judith and Kevin

Whilst mulling over the horrors of the French water system, I remembered that the utilities don't work so well in South Africa.  I dug out an email that I had written to Kate last year, it goes something like this:

This afternoon the rot set in. All week I’ve been thinking this was just like a sunnier version of the UK when we get a reminder that this really is Africa. Lucas [the guard] knocked on the front door to tell us that there were 2 men outside preparing to disconnect the electricity for non-payment.

This is what I think:

A] We paid a deposit

B] We only received one bill
C] We paid it
D] The figures on the disconnection card bear no resemblance to our bill.

Disconnecting guy was a ‘jobsworth’. Harsh words were spoken [me] and inane grins were produced [Mr Jobsworth and his fat grinning mate ] My final throwaway lines were something along the lines of ‘You’ll be sorry if you do’ and ‘I don’t care because we’ve got a generator anyway.’ This is not strictly true, I do care, as the generator’s only going to power the electric fence and exterior lights. But anyway I stormed into the house, leaving Mr J ascending his ladder, armed with a pair of pliers or similar.

Kept thinking of all the things that wouldn’t work, the garage door so can’t get the car in or out, the washing machine door wouldn’t open so I could get the wet stuff out, the freezer contains two large joints of beef, the laptop so no communications whatsoever etc etc. Phoned Chris and had a bit of a panic so went to his office to decide what to do.

We phoned City Hall several times and couldn't get any sense out of anyone so we actually drove there. It was really hot by now but luckily the car has air conditioning and we managed to find a parking space right outside City Hall. They wouldn’t let us in as they close at 3.15 – they re-open at 4pm specifically for payment by people whose supplies have been disconnected – and we were next to a growing hot, discontented and largely smelly group of people standing on the pavement waiting for 4 o’clock. So I spent a joyful 30 minutes sitting in the car, waiting for my turn in the telephone queue, listening to music and the fact that my call was important to them. Eventually the [and I use the term loosely] Customer Care Officer answered but couldn’t seem to care less about Customers or anything else. I explained that I was 10 metres away from her office and I was willing to pay this money that we didn’t owe, just to get the electricity reconnected. I could even throw it in through the window!! I exercised unbelievable patience but in the end I had to use the trump card and, rather in the manner of Hycinth Bucket I had to ask whether they knew that my husband was a diplomat and no one could possibly forecast the ramifications if he were to be left unprotected all night, at which point she put me through to someone with a brain.

I don’t know if it was the word ‘unprotected’, perhaps she was thinking along the lines of HIV/AIDS. Or maybe I should credit her with understanding the word ‘diplomat’. O maybe it was just bloody good luck. But anyway, what a relief to talk to someone who could understand and respond. It turned out that the arrears were on the part of the landlord, sort of rates, and so City Hall has the right to turn off our power. The guy explained the procedure to ensure that we would probably get reconnected within 4 hours of payment by the landlord [who is in Guatamala!]. So I drove back across town as they still wouldn’t let me into the office. I phoned and left it all in the capable hands of the estate agent.

Got home about 5 to be greeted by Lucas with the words,‘I don’t think those guys cut off the electricity after all’. Absolutely right Lucas, everything working. Settled down with a cup of herbal tea, completely bemused.

The agent paid the outstanding amount [which he says he has already paid, and I believe him].

After supper, cooked on the electric plates, which were working nicely thank you, we settled down to watch TV for a while until we were disturbed by Stanley, the night guard, who told us that the City Council had sent out a team to reconnect our electricity. A long conversation ensued about why they couldn’t reconnect it, but I left that bit to Chris.

Wandered off the point a bit there, but here I am a year later still fighting an incomprehensible system of paying for basic services, but this time it's all done in a foreign language accompanied by Gallic shrugging and it's cold and grey.

I still want to go home.