Monday, July 27, 2009

You Speaka Spanish?


Sometimes our encounters here in Panama are just too weird. Take our relationship with Garry, the apparent local version of Mr. Fix-It. He is obviously Panamanian, so I am a bit puzzled about the name. But anyway, Garry is very polite, rarely smiles, and is always in need of bottled water. I now keep extras in the refrigerator just in case Garry drops by. When we first started seeing him zip around here on a fast four-wheeler, wearing the tale-tale company emblem on his white shirt, we knew he was "official." The first time he showed up at our house, we thought he needed to check out our electrical outlets in the house, but he was merely offering to help us fix a flat tire. Funny how language barriers create such misunderstandings. Anyway, after struggling to communicate with us, Garry asked me, in perfect English, "Do you speak French?" Well, I am a loser in Espanol but really dead meat when it comes to French. So I did what I always do. I called Elena, the go-to girl for us residents, and asked her to interpret for me. I gave the phone to Garry. Garry talked to Elena. Then I talked to Elena. After being assured we had things under control, Garry sped away as quickly as he arrived, with a big "gracias" from us and a cold bottle of water from our fridge ... kind of like Zorro on a four-wheeler.

OK, I decided, maybe he is not an electrician. Shortly thereafter, when Garry was the lone responder sent to our house for a minor plumbing problem, we surmised he must be the plumber. But when he called for reinforcements, we knew he is not a plumber. But here we go again: "Do you speak French?" To which I replied, "No, Garry, no hablo Francais, pero, hablo un poco Espanol." To which he replied, "You speaka Spanish?" I swear, as my name is Lynda Terry, he asked this with a perfect Italian accent!" Thus began the language dance I have with Garry each time he comes to assess a "situation" or problem at our house: "You speaka Spanish?" "Un poco." "Un pequeno?" "Si, un poquito." Then he proceeds to give me about a 10 paragraph dissertation in Espanol. I nod. He nods. I call Elena and hand the phone to Garry. He talks to her and hands the phone back to me. I listen to Elena. Garry asks for bottled water and then he leaves.

But, back to what Garry actually does. I was just about to decide that he is the neighborhood trouble-shooter when he showed up to personally check out a lighting problem in our bathroom. So, maybe he is the electrician, after all? After a couple of bottled waters, Garry called me into the room to show me that he had taken the recessed lighting fixture apart and to tell me the socket needed replacing. I won't repeat the whole dialog dance again, but you know the drill. Elena, as usual, ultimately gave me the news on my cell phone. Garry would be getting a new socket and would be back to install it. And as Garry messed up the ceiling a bit, he wanted me to take a picture of it (for proof, I guess). Anyway, we decided to get used to the fact that this bathroom would have no light in it for a while. We have a few other bathrooms here anyway .... 5 more actually. Panamanian house builders seem to like building bathrooms.
After a couple of weeks, I reminded Elena that we needed an electrician to fix the light problem. The next week, Garry arrived, with a young man who was probably not the electrician. Here we go. "You speaka Spanish?" (Still the Italian accent!) "Un poco," I say. Un pequeno?" he asks. Si, un poquito," I reply. Now this is the other thing. No matter who shows up to fix/repair/mend something, they never have any tools. So, we now have tools at our house. With our ladder and our screwdriver in tow, the two of them headed up the stairs. I went for broke and pointed out two more of our recessed lights that were not working. A few bottles of water later, Garry tells me that new light sockets will be needed. Humm ...... I thought we had already arrived at that conclusion a few weeks ago. No matter. Garry and I were making communication progress. He told me, and I understood, that he would be glad to get the new sockets for me. But this time, there is a cost involved! It will cost $8.00 total. Sounded fair to me. I gave Garry $8.00. But Garry, being very official, wanted to give me an official receipt. He took out his official-looking receipt book and carefully wrote out the information required (name, address, amount of cash received, and for what). Then, because he had no sheet of carbon paper, he wrote the information all over again on the duplicate copy. He gave me the white copy and he kept the green copy. (Mental note to self: Add carbon paper to the list of supplies for us to have on hand.) Garry asked for water for himself and the apprentice and they left. Garry has not been back since. That was two weeks ago. We exchange waves daily as I see him out and about, looking very official. Maybe I should take him some water.





No comments:

Post a Comment