Pillows (4)
A mop, preferably Swiffer. [please see filthy house, no maid]
Milk
Yogurt
General things to make the family feel at home
The car from the hotel (again, no seat belts! kids just sit, or not, wherever you plant them. YIKES) was great, English speaking driver (bonus!), and what I would call a town car. We arrived at Walmart. It was comforting to know I could find everything I needed there, and I did. But I would like to note, refrigeration means nothing. I opened the cases for milk, butter, yogurt - everything was luke warm, at best. Why even bother with the refrigerated cases? I carry on... Wine!! I find WINE!! Don't care much that it's 9am on a Thursday, I'm in the market. My one and only requirement: screw tops. Done. White and Red. Momma is happy.
Shopping: success. Back to the house. This excursion (hotel, Walmart, wait, house) cost US $50. Don't know if that is a rip off or a bargain. But I do know in the US if you hired a taxi for at least 3 hours it would certainly be more. Suburbs to O'hare is at least $70 in a town car...
Get to the (filthy) house, and just knowing that I have the power to clean it makes me feel better. I still don't really clean (I am getting a maid afterall) must focus on the real need at hand: hot water. Homeowner calls me again from the Netherlands and again sends over the maid of a friend who lives nearby. We *again* (see the trend?) don't communicate and she tries to light the pilot. At least this time I remembered to buy a lighter! Hooray Walmart! Of course the pilot does not light.
Once the friend's maid confirms the pilot (again!) won't light, homeowner calls me back and things start to get Mexican. She thinks we need gas. Gas for the house. She has me walk our home phone to the guard outside, whom she instructs to "flag down the next gas truck that drives by." You read that right. What the what? She then asks me how much money I have on me. Well lady, I just went to Walmart and paid a private driver $50. Answer: not much. So I'm told when/if a gas company shows up I am to pay them whatever I have in my wallet (~US$ 60) and they will give me as much gas as that will buy. Is that a lot? Is that nothing? No clue. There was also some talk of tipping but sorry, no comprende. To make matters worse, she calls me back about 20 minutes later and says she called her "regular" gas truck and if/when they show up I should give them half of the cash I have and save the other half for the gas company the guard may flag down. My head is spinning.
Ding dong! Someone at the gate. It's a gas company! Lucky my home is empty of valuables because I am just letting anyone in who rings the gate. In march two guys in jumpsuits who ask (I think) where the water heaters are. I show them. Oh, kids crying btw. Strange people, strange house, strange language, no naps. Hooray. Spanish Spanish Spanish. Someone is on the roof of my house. Someone else in in the front yard tossing up a large hose which I can only assume will put natural gas into our water heaters. Ok...
Now the plumbers arrive. Great. Come on in. I think you're the plumbers. But really, what do I know. They start to run the faucets. Shocker: once the men in jumpsuits leave and I guess we now have gas (I emptied my wallet) the hot water is working. Success. Success? I get a lecture from the older man plumber to run all the faucets for "tres minutes." I get that much. Ok. I will run them. Tres minutes. Each faucet. Si si. But I physically feel hot water from our showers and upstairs bathrooms. Hooray for me!!
Ding dong! Oops, this is the gas company I should have used. Guess the other was just random. Both have given me cards and I cannot tell them apart. When the water runs cold again I will call one. Or both. Is this really how it works here? I have to send these people away, but they make sure to tell me they know the house and where the gas line is so I should definitely use them next time. At least that's what I get from the pantomime Ok, whatever. I still have no more money so, sorry. Adios!
Time for the screw top wine from Walmart and a plastic glass. Oh yeah. I can handle Mexico. Today....
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