Sometimes It’s Just One of Those Days
Day 4 – Destined for Water
Oh, thank God! It was a gorgeous morning. The sun was bright and I could feel the heat instantly. The air was dry(er) and up above I could see only blue skies and white clouds. This is one of those days when the Nicaraguan saying of, “Gracias a Dios,” is inescapable. Thanks to God. Or as I said when I walked outside, “Oh, thank God!”
I ran through my usual routine of letting Tahoe out, asking him if he was hungry and feeding him after he sat down to signal “yes”, eating cereal with Yoplait drinkable yogurt (the only kid of yogurt I have found), and savoring my cup of coffee while reading emails and checking to see what my friends in the states were up to on Facebook.
Gustavo came over while I was on the computer and offered to re-install the front passenger seat. I thanked him but explained that the car was still a bit damp and I wanted it to dry first. I’d try to put it in myself later or drive with it loose in the back of the car for Eddie to install in Rivas. Although, the more I thought about a loose seat in the car the more I thought it was likely a dangerous idea. Gustavo shared he was moving up the date of his relocation back to the states to early November and he needed to sell his car. He was asking $5000. I told him I’d let my friends know.
Don Chico was going on roughly 20 hours without power. Tito came over and ran through the same steps that both the Super Mario Brother and I ran through. Then he replaced the fuse boxes and Chico had power again. We walked upstairs and I showed him how the hot water disappeared quickly in the shower and how the washing machine dispensed only room temperature, and then cold water. He checked to make sure the hot water “llave” was turned on (as had I), and it was. He decided the problem was with the hot water heater itself. He thought the pint-sized tankless water heater was too small to heat enough water fast enough for extended use, such as for a shower or load of laundry. It was enough for washing dishes, however, since we conserve the water and only turn it on to wet the sponge and then again to rinse the dishes.
He broke for lunch in Don Chico’s house with Don Chico and Arleni. I started making lunch for Eliana and myself. And then came the sound of hot steam and exploding water. I turned to look over my left shoulder and water was gushing out of the slats of the door to the cleaning closet – which also houses the hot water tank and electrical panels. The water was escaping fast and spreading along the floor to the kitchen and living room.
At times like this I’m glad the front door is always open. “¡Tito! ¡Don Chico! ¡Hay una problema! ¡Venga, por favor! ¡Venga!” Arleni, Don Chico, and Tito came running into my house immediately. Tito turned off the electricity and then ran outside to turn off the water. Arleni and I grabbed towels to soak up the water and wring them into a pot. Eliana grabbed a dry mop to help. We focused first on keeping the water from going under the fridge and then worked on the rest of the room.
At this point, all I could do was laugh, really. I realized the phrase, “you’ve got to be kidding me” no longer meant much here. Because nothing is kidding me. It’s all happening and it’s going to continue to happen, so I better start embracing it. Don Chico looked at me and said, “¡Quando Fred regresa, vamos a celebrar!” When Fred comes back, we will celebrate! “Claro que sí,” I replied. Clearly, yes.
Steve, my property manager happened to call me in the middle of this and asked how things were going. “Well,” I told him, “the PVC tube on the hot water heater just exploded and the living room is covered with water. We’re soaking it up right now. But other than that, things are great. Chico’s power is back on.”
“Oh yeah, we’re fine. We’re laughing,” I assured him.
“Well, you sure have a great attitude about this,” and I handed the phone to Tito.
Tito informed me that he needed to remove the hot water heater and it would take a week before he could get a new one in Managua and install it. That was fine, I didn’t really have hot water anyway. He also needed to keep the water off until he could remove the tubing and cut off the water supply to the heater. This meant we couldn’t clean the floor, wash dishes, or even wash our hands from cleaning the floor. Eliana and I dipped our hands in the pool instead.
Eliana wanted french toast for lunch, but we couldn’t wash our hands after cracking the raw eggs. We decided that when the water was back on we would make several servings of french toast and store them in the freezer. That way when we lost power (and therefore water) she could still have french toast.
Let us remember that I was still airing out my car. The sun had been out all day and all four door were open. For some reason, the driver’s side window was also rolled down. On very rare occasion I do things that make no sense (if Fred is reading this, I did not just admit that).
Suddenly it started raining and after making sure my keys were on the kitchen counter (and not in the car) I ran outside to close the doors. The alarm system with the car is unquestionably annoying, but in this situation I expected it to be helpful. When the car is turned off and all the doors are shut, the alarm automatically rolls up the windows. Only the window didn’t roll up. I ran inside to get my keys, opened the door, inserted the key in the ignition, and still, the window wouldn’t roll up. Now it’s starting to rain heavily. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Oh wait, I can’t think that anymore.
Don Chico handed me a black plastic garbage bag and we hooked it over the top and along the side of the door. I closed it too soon and shut the door on Chico’s thumb. We tried again and then I got him some ice.
Another phone call to Gustavo. “I need visit Tyrone. Where exactly is his shop? My driver’s side front window won’t roll up.”
“You can’t drive there right now, the rain is coming from the west and will blow into your car with the window down.” Shoot, he’s right. “I’ll come over with some tarp.”
While waiting for Gustavo I washed some dishes and took a bite of something. I can’t remember what it was, but I bit the underside of my tongue while chewing. The bite just might have been the straw that broke this camel’s back. I could feel the tears thinking they would make an appearance. I felt rage in my stomach. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I wanted to scream, but what would that do? And Eliana was right there in front of me. I knelt down to a squat behind the counter and put my head in my hands.
“Mom, are you OK? . . . Mom? Mom, are you OK?”
“Yes, sweetie, I just bit my tongue and it hurts.”
I stayed there for a few seconds, feeling like I wanted to flip out but knowing this really was all going to pass. I’ve never been a crier and I knew that while I was reaching my limit, I could still handle everything. It’s just a car. It’s just water. It’s just a window. It’s just money. It’s all fixable. And besides, I’m getting stronger. I can feel it.
Gustavo cut the tarp to fit the shape of the window. It was still raining and we couldn’t keep the car dry to adhere the duct tape. Gustavo tried turning the car around and backing it up under the awning of Don Chico’s house so we could protect it from the water. But the car slid on the gravel, even in 4WD. “Stop! Stop!” I couldn’t handle the idea that the car might crash into the house. I told Gustavo to not worry about it, and to pull the car back to where it was and we’ll figure something out. By the grace of God, it stopped raining for a few minutes. We were able to dry off the car long enough to make the tape stick. We had the window perfectly covered. And just as we were pushing all the tape down making sure there were no air bubbles, the window rolled up by itself.