Having any type of work done here is a new and interesting experience. Everything is different, from finding someone to do the work, to how the work is done, to how you pay for the work. Nothing has taught us more about the cultural differences between the US and Mexico than trying to get simple jobs around the house done.
Finding workers here is not just a matter of opening the phone book and making a call. Even though there are almost a half million people living here in Mazatlan, the phone book is barely an inch thick. Many people here don't have phones, let alone the economic ability to place an ad in the phone book. Yes, we live in one of the richest cities in Mexico, but poverty still abounds.
So how on Earth do we get anything done? We ask around. We ask friends for recommendations of people they have used and are happy with. We ask our waiters. We post on the MazInfo list. We also get lots of offers. People walking by the house and see we need something done will offer to do the work or will tell us about a husband/wife/uncle/cousin/niece who does that kind of work.
When we needed our windows washed, we asked Alfonso, the head waiter at Canuck's, for a recommendation. He asked us for our phone number and said he would call us on Monday. There was no phone call on Monday. We have had this problem a lot and have finally figured out why. We only have cell phones, no house phone (which is another long post in itself). In Mexico, the person who calls a cell phone pays for the call. Most people can't afford to call us.
We were very surprised on Wednesday when Alfonso showed up with Christien and Juan, two other waiters from Canuck's, to do the work themselves. We were in our American mindset where waiters are waiters and window washers are window washers. Here, if there is work available and you can do it, you take it and are grateful.
The rainy season is just getting started and, with the first drops of rain, everything starts growing like mad. In short order, our yard was a jungle. Chuck and I went shopping for a gas powered weed trimmer to tame it, but didn't find anything we were happy with. When we got home, I happened upon a six foot snake sunning itself in the garden. That settled it. We were hiring somebody. Neither one of us was going out there to cut anything.
Our next door neighbor approached us and asked if we wanted the garden cut. This is the neighbor we have been having problems with, so we hesitated. But we needed it done, and he wanted to do it right then so we said yes.
We brought the dogs inside, and he went home to get his tools, which turned out to be a dull set of hedge clippers and a machete. With some trepidation, we watched from from an upstairs window as he began work. He dove right in and worked hard. The kids that have been our nightmare since moving in got to come into our yard. They sat quietly while he worked and helped where they could.
When I saw him taking a break, I went downstairs with a Coke and a Pacifico and offered him the choice. He chose the beer. I left the Coke just in case. Later I went down with another beer for him and one for myself. My Spanish has improved enough that a little small talk was possible. I learned his name is Jose Alfredo, but everyone calls him Pepe. He needed the work that night because he needed to feed his baby, and he had no money. He works loading supplies on the tour boats that launch nearby. It is a two hours on, two hours off schedule, and he does not get enough hours. He is trying to start his own gardening service to fill in the gaps.
Because of the ticks, I had told him I wanted everything cut to within a half inch of the ground. He meticulously cut everything by hand and pulled up what he could. He easily differentiated between weeds and garden plants. He trimmed the palm bushes with the machete. He worked into the night, and when it got to dark to see, he asked for lights.
The simple act of hiring Pepe to trim the yard has done for our relations what all the cake in the world couldn't. (If the cake confuses you, read Operation Cake.) He doesn't arrogantly walk by the fence taunting the dogs anymore. No new tags have appeared on our garden wall. The kids offer a shy “hola” when they see us and help me open the garage gate when we are returning home.
In both of these situations, setting a price and paying was very difficult. I am used to the way business is done in the US, so I asked up front how much would they charge for the service. In both cases, I got the reply, “Whatever you think is fair.” How maddening. Being a brash kind of person, I pushed. I explained that I am not used to the way things are done here. I am a foreigner. I have no idea what the fair rate for labor is. Can they please help me out and give me a ballpark figure of what they think the job is worth? In both cases, I got a shrug and the reply, “The job is worth whatever you think is fair.” How very maddening.
When the windows were washed, I forked over $300MX. I could tell by the looks on their faces that I way overpaid. So when it came time to pay Pepe, the guy who toiled late into the night in our yard, sweating and tired, I threw Chuck to the wolves. I told him I would stay with the dogs and he could go pay. It worked out well. Chuck employed a much better strategy than mine. He went out with an assortment of bills and started low, then just kept adding to Pepe's hand until his face said it was the right amount. That cost $200MX.
Before anyone comments that we could certainly afford to pay Pepe more, and we certainly knew he needed the money, and asks why we are such cheapskates, you need to see the other side of things. When we over pay for services, the neighborhood gets mad at us for driving the prices up. When we over pay, the cost of labor goes up, and many people can't afford to have work done anymore. It's a fine line we walk while we are learning the local culture and economy.
Now, when we needed an electrician, I wasn't ready to let some guy off the street mess with my wiring. I asked the MazInfo list and got a recommendation from someone I know and trust. We called “Big Al” Fuentes who is a general contractor from Canada. He has several contractors he can call on and can satisfy any need that a NOB general contractor can.
All of the contractors he uses are local. In fact most are members of his wife's family. He told us up front that he takes 20% of the labor charge for himself and that means his bids are usually going to be higher that other people's. The benefit is that the work is guaranteed, and the workers show up at the time specified. Both things are a pretty big deal here.
Big Al sent an electrician out to look at the job, then called us with a bid. We thought it was fair and agreed to have the work done. Here's where it gets a little strange. We continue to do things in Mexico that we would never have dreamed of doing in the US. We met Big Al at a biker restaurant and paid him in cash $3400MX before the work was done. Our only instructions were to look for a big, fat, bald guy. In a biker hang out. Guess how many big, fat, bald guys we approached before we found Big Al.
Okay, I know, we are crazy. But at 4 pm, two electricians showed up. They installed a new breaker and ran 220 romex to the service quarters for a plug for my dryer. They ran the romex in conduit which they also installed. In order to run the wiring, the had to tunnel through our cement walls in 2 places. They had a drill with a masonry bit, but did most of it with a hammer and chisel. I wondered why they didn't just use the drill and be done with it. The drill is very expensive, and so saved for only the toughest work. Whatever can be done by hand is. They did some really precision chisel work. The electricians also converted the 220 plug in the office to a grounded 110 plug, so now we have more usable outlets in there.
The work we got was top notch. The electricians even did a superb job of cleaning up after themselves. They swept up all the dust. At one point, one of them had to lean a hand on the wall above the shower in the service quarters and left a faint hand print. He washed the wall. I'm really impressed. Most importantly, my dryer works.
Getting things done has been an adventure. It has taught us more about the culture of our adopted home than any other thing we have participated in. Next, I might try my hand at hiring a maid.
Author's notes: If you want to contact Big Al Fuentes, his email is This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it , and Mazatlan cell phone is 044 66 91 09 26 27.
Pepe's telephone number is 982 53 57.
Update 2/26/2008: Pepe has moved out of the city and is no longer doing yard work.
Alfonso, Christien, and Juan can all be found at Canuck's any time the business is open.
Update 2/26/2008: Juan has become one of our very good friends. He continues to help us with many things. He has gone to immigration to translate for us, dealt with a dispute with Telmex for us - and won, and even showed us the best places to buy beef and the coldest beer. He is available to help anyone for $150MX for a half day. Not bad for a personal guide and translator who knows their way around the city and government. His cell phone is 669-108-2849. His home phone is 136-0415. If you don't speak Spanish, you probably want to call his cell phone, because his wife and children don't speak much English.
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I just found your blog and really enjoyed reading it! My husband and I are moving from Washington State to Mazatlan in September...we bought a house in Centro.
We have a blog where we have been documenting our decisionmaking and moving process at www.countdowntomexico.com.
We'll keep an eye on your site and look forward to meeting you sometime around town!