
GueroPaz
Nov 3, 2007, 9:14 AM
Post #30 of 30
(613 views)
Shortcut
|
Re: [Rolly] Time urgency and cultural differences
|
Can't Post | Private Reply
|
Yes, mañana means "some time in the extremely vague and indefinite future, if ever." I lived in a small beach town and had the nerve to rewire a 25 amp electrical system in a 3 bedroom bamboo and palm thatch roof. Oscar, the hardware store owner, called his shop something like "grande and pequeña, and he had most of everything I needed. The fluourescent fixtures in the rafters rejuvenated the house, giving new meaning to the Scripture, "and there was light." But getting them wired required 3 electricians, including a marine wiring man who was so blind he often tested the current in the wires by singeing his fingers. In most cases, I used hand motions and basic Spanish to show them where I wanted wall switches, overhead lights, outlets, the breaker switch box, etc. I preinstalled everything I could possibly install. Oscar could not predict the future; some items took so long I changed my plans. But some things got done inmediatamente. I wanted to install a new pump to fill the swimming pool, and my long-time resident neighbor said I needed a new well. That sounded like a project! Ten minutes later the ingeniero showed up on his bicycle, and 24 hours later the well was dug by hand, and the pump installed! CFE, on the other hand, never gave me a contract in five months, and I left town. The CFE was slandered by the same neighbor as cabrones y ladrones. Hamburger meat. One restuarant had hamburguesas in stock the first time we went there, and never again, because tomorrow never comes. The other restaurant in town (besides the seafood joints) contained the word "-burguesa" in its title, but only had pork burgers. So, I decided to make my own burgers. I sent my Hondureño houseboy to the butcher to get ground beef, and he returned empty handed, saying, "no hay carne de res, el no tiene." If I accepted that, we never would have had cheeseburgers. I walked down to the butcher and saw a nice, fresh cut of beef hanging above the counter. How much for one kilo, I asked. He said less than 20 pesos, and I pointed to the back of the shop. "Tiene un molino de carne, si?" He nodded yes and I explained with hand motions that I wanted him to grind that beef in the machine. The finest hamburguesas in Chiapas! I apologize if any of this was off topic. In other words, you need to do everything you can do by yourself, take the initiative, and after all else fails, wait another month.
|