Little things that remind us we're in another culture.....
Knife/scissors sharpener - when you hear a sharp little penny-whistle sound being repeated and moving down the street, you know when he is near.
Propane tank delivery - when you hear a repeated musical ditty from a LOUD speaker, which is always the same, you know that the delivery truck is near. These sounds tell you to make a dash to the road if you wish their service.
We have not yet discovered how one knows when a water carboy truck is near. Maybe you just set up a delivery schedule. These are large plastic five gallon garafons of drinking water. Without a residential water delivery account, we have been just buying 2.5 gallon bottles from the grocery, carried home on Dan's shoulder.
Every time Carmen is introduced with her last name, the folks nod their heads with a big grin and say, oh yes like the whiskey! Seems one of the high priced whiskeys here is the Buchanan brand. We see it advertised on local TV here.
Our big purchase at the grocery store this week is a plastic pitcher to fill with water to keep in refrigerator. We have been refilling smaller plastic bottles from the big jug, by hand. Hard to get into the small fill hole.
Today's experiences-
We met with the realtor at noon in the park. A mother and son combo. We were informed that the owners of the blue house, our first choice, would like to accept our offer, with a slight increase, which was still a bit below what we had decided would be our final offer. We will be responsible for the check up and any repairs to the water system. We have hopes that the realtor will be able to set up an appointment for us with the architect tomorrow so that we can see where the plumbing lines and maybe electrical all are located in this house. We will then visit a notario who does work like a real estate lawyer in the US, and have it all checked out, and tell us how to go about getting the money to the owner. All is cash here. Our cash being in the US. We will use a notario that Frank and Ania recommend, in Córdoba. So soon we may have a real estate investment in Mexico. Surely it can not be a worse investment than our others.
Upon leaving the meeting in the park, we walked across the street to the Banamex bank that is associated with BanamexUSA located in Los Angeles. We have been having trouble getting our ATM cards to be accepted. Now, you would think that banks are similar. Nope. Here, you figure out what you wish to accomplish at the bank. Next you punch the right button on a machine that then prints out a numbered slip for you in that chosen department. Then you sit down in a comfy chair and wait for your number to come up on one of the three screens. Carmen finally convinced Dan to go to a desk clerk that seemed to be there for the sole purpose of helping confused folks like us. It was suggested that we push a different department button. All seemed very efficient for the throng of people there. Our number was called and - of course we had to have our original passports and drivers license, not just photocopies, for them to help us. Back the three blocks to our motel we trudged, then returned to the bank. We got lucky number 13 for our next wait. We got the same teller, thankfully. We happily thought all would now go smoothly, as we handed her all our cards and papers she had required. Still no good. Seemed as if when all the various managers got together to discuss what to do to help get our money, no one had just the correct solution. Finally, a manager took us back to the ATM machine and worked with us til the machine accepted our cards. The first problem was that we were following the direction too exactly. We were shown a trick to help. It was simply to take the card back out of the machine before being told to do so, and to punch in our PIN before the ATM actually asked for it. Waiting too long, ie for actual prompts to come up, only resulted in a message that we could "not be helped at this time." Such a simple thing. Now hopefully next time we will have no difficulty.
Lunch time, or should one say, time to prepare dinner. Takes a bit to figure out how all the foods to be cooked come to the finale at the appropriate time. It becomes a juggling act with the few pans available.
Latest update -- we just got a phone call from our dear across-street neighbor Sally, reporting that our house in Anacortes had been broken in to. So much for security in the good old safe US of A, where we had, before leaving, advised the city police to watch the place. In addition, Sally and Cathy had been stopping in regularly. Front door had been kicked in, drawers opened, etc. The Wii is missing for sure. Sally will take pictures of all the mess and we hope this might clue us in to what else is gone. How disheartening.....
