Losing the waiting game

My fridge broke, again. This time, it wasn't my fault.

The wires that connect my house with my kitchen were in rough condition and finally bit the dust. The electrician came by and repaired the power issue. But another one remained.

My refrigerator did not take well to the comings and goings of electricity and decided to shut down.

The fridge made this decision at some point on Friday night, and I realized Saturday morning. I stored all my refrigerated foods at my neighbor's house and set out in search of the repairman.

One man in town has a reputation for being the only capable technician in town. He fixed up my fridge last time it stopped being cold, and I trust his work.

After three days of trying to find him, I finally caught up with him on Monday at lunch. He told me that he'd stop by later in the afternoon. He came into my house without any tools. He scoped around for 15 minutes, whistling a song the entire time. He said he had identified the problem and that he would come back on Wednesday morning at 9:00 a.m. to fix the problem.

I was waiting for him at 9:00 a.m. He never showed. I gave him the hora ecuatoriana. Still no sign.

In the States, you give a cable guy a three-hour time window to come by your house. Translating that into Ecuadorian time, that means he might show up in the next week. Luckily, I had something that cable and utilities companies would never give you - the man's home address.

So I decided to track him down and see why he didn't show up. I was talking to a fellow volunteer, Laurel, and she said that if I followed a repair guy to his house "in the US that might get you a restraining order."

Here, it's what I like to call accountability and the only way to get stuff done.

I posted a note on my door to the technician and headed to his house. An elderly woman answered the door.

Ian: I'm looking for the refrigerator repair guy.
Elderly woman: He's not home.
Ian: He told me he would be at my house at 9:00, but he hasn't showed up yet.
Elderly woman: (Laughing) He's so unreliable.
Ian: Does he have a phone number?
Elderly woman: We can't trust him with a phone. He loses everything.
Ian: Do you think he'll show up this morning?
Elderly woman: He might. Wait at your house all morning.
Ian: If he doesn't show up this morning, I'll come back here during lunch.

I went back home. I had so much to do around the house (e.g. laundry, clean the kitchen), but I couldn't do any of it because I wouldn't be within earshot of the door. I split time between a few episodes of Seinfeld, a few chapters of my book, and reheating some food that I had stored in my neighbor's fridge.

As soon as standard lunchtime struck, I was at his front door. He told me that he had forgotten and that he'd be at my house at 4:00 p.m.

He was there at 4:05, only seven hours late.