House hunting in Brazil

When I first decided to come to Brazil as a volunteer for 2 years I had plenty of time to make plans - though in the end I moved to Brazil 8 months before my volunteer visa came through, staying on a "tourist" visa. This visa still allowed a foreigner (Gringo) to buy a house so didn't hold my plans up at all.
I had considered renting, but felt that as it was going to be for 2 years, and I was still hopeful of getting permanent status, I should maybe buy instead. I had been in contact with the charity head and she told me it was easy to buy as a foreigner (she herself had done that when she first moved there) and there was a lot of cheap housing to be found. In fact while searching online I had found an advert for a small house, fairly close to the charity, for sale by an British man, which sounded pretty much what I was looking for. I contacted him asking about it - he was in the UK at the time - and he appeared surprised that his house was for sale! I sent him the link to the advert, and he admitted that a friend was dealing with this for him - but when I showed considerable interest he started prevaricating about the price! He wouldn't give me a straight answer about how much the selling price was, but kept saying that he thought the advertised price was "probably too low"! So I told him to contact me when he had made his mind up about the final price, but that I was prepared to pay in UK pounds, which was better for both of us! He did tell me, however, that a friend in Brazil had the keys, was looking after the house and could show me it when I got there. I did rather lose interest in it at this point!
I did manage to find a small place to rent prior to my arrival, but only for a month as it was booked by someone else for Christmas, which was just over a month after my arrival. When I reached Brazil I contacted the charity head straight away, and we talked about buying a house - and she knew the man selling the house (he was a woodworking artist and had done some work for her), and who was holding the keys! So she called Muzenza, a young Brazilian man, and he came round to meet me. He would help me find a house as he knew all the places for sale, he told me, and we could meet up later for dinner and talk things over.
He arrived at the agreed restaurant with a young lady with him - he was looking after a property, for another British man, which was being converted into holiday accommodation, and she was staying in one of the rooms there. He said that we could start house hunting in the morning, so we just chatted about living in this town, and other generalities. He drank rather a lot during the meal, and afterwards sampled a selection of flavoured Cachaças on offer in their bar (which he paid for !), and before we parted he suggested that on the morrow we go on a trip out of town to see some of the sights in the National Park, rather than house-hunting, and he brings the young lady along as she is a tourist too.
I went back to my bedsit, but an hour later there is a knock on the door - it is Muzenza! He informs me that he realises he is probably too drunk to manage the trip in the morning, but suggests we meet up after lunch, at the place he is looking after, and we can start house-hunting. I arrive a little before time, am let in through the big gates, only to be told that he has not yet got up today! So I go for a wander round the extensive grounds of this property and then sit in the communal area/dining room for around 90 minutes, while waiting, and he still doesn't appear! I leave a message with my number and leave.
He calls later all apologetic - saying he was more drunk that he thought, and had to sleep it off, but would I come around the next morning at 9.00 and we could start looking. Again I was there on time, and again no sign of him! I waited an hour, and then abandoned that idea completely - and since then I have bumped into him a couple of times in town, but other than that we have had no contact!
The following day I went to see the only Real Estate agent in town - the same place I had used to book the bedsit I was now staying in. I explained what I was looking  for (she already knew where I was volunteering) and she grabbed a handful of folders and we set off on foot (I had hired a car but we didn't need it as everything was so close!). We looked at a variety of different properties in and around the centre of town - some needing quite a bit of work (mainly woodworm or termites by the look of it!), but none really suitable as none had any parking space (and the streets nearby too narrow to realistically be an option), none had any outdoor space (yard or garden), and every one had issues with the legal title! 
This is apparently a very common problem in rural Brazil, where "laws" are often ignored or stretched, but I felt that, as a foreigner, I needed to be 100% certain I was buying a property that was going to be "mine"! Many of the issues surrounded inheritance - a landowner had passed away intestate (who in Brazil has a formal will?) so the oldest child sells the property, then one of the other siblings claims it and also sells it - to someone else - and the spouse then does the same, or a brother, or a parent! So we end up with several people buying the same property, none having legal title, and legal disputes that go on for decades! There is a property opposite where I finally bought that has been walled off, by the purchaser who then found out it was under litigation, and 8 years later no further work has been done, and no resolution is in sight!
I did find a nice modern 2 storey property very close to the charity - it was split into two dwellings, with the upper one very spacious, including a mezzanine floor bedroom and great views, and the ground floor suitable for renting out - but the "lane" outside to rocky and rough for parking close by, and the nearest suitable place to park a vehicle at least 100 metres away, and not secure! In addition the "owner" had inherited the property from her aunt who had recently passed away - there was legal title to it BUT she was going through a divorce and her husband was claiming part ownership, so it would not be possible to get legal title transfer until the divorce was finalised or until they cane to some agreement over the property (the wife was adamant the husband had no right to any of it!), which could take years - so I passed on that one, too.
So day one ended with nothing suitable - prices were very good, but I did wonder how much of that was due to the title uncertainties, though I was assured that this wasn't the case, and lack of title shouldn't be a problem! I also didn't get good vibes from any of them - not sure if anyone else has experienced this, but I always get a feeling if a house is going to be a good "home"!
Day two the realtor sent me a little further afield with her assistant, and the first two properties I was shown were part-builds, which means they had walls, but no roof! I explained that I needed somewhere I could move into immediately and live in (I had about 3 weeks left on my bedsit rental before I had to move out for another tenant!), so that meant that three other properties on her list were also no good - one was a bare plot! Thee next was another two storey house - the ground floor was complete and beautifully finished, but the upper floor - which had spectacular views - was only half finished. It would have made a great purchase had I wished to rent out half the building, but I wanted to retain the views, and the top floor was not only unfinished, but also much smaller - and it was the most expensive property I had seen, by a long way!
The final one on her list in this area (she told me there were others to see in other suburbs), was a 4 bed-roomed house on a large plot with a garden. I was reluctant to even look at it as it was far too big for my needs, but the price was very reasonable, and she insisted that I would be impressed, especially as it had full legal title! Inside it was a mess as it had been unoccupied for some time, and there were a couple of pieces of broken furniture abandoned inside - a large insect screen was in tatters, and mail had been shoved through it scattering all over the floor. She ushered me to the kitchen window and the view was spectacular - looking Southwards across the National Park.
I was impressed, but still couldn't get over the fact it was a big 4 bed-roomed house, when all I needed was something smaller - so we headed back to the office. The owner was dealing with someone else, so I was left to think things over - and was mulling over my options (including looking at more properties, but I was led to believe I had already seen the best they had on the books) when I heard someone asking about renting the last property. The assistant replied that it was available at the moment, but that she thought I might be interested in buying it - it took me about two minutes to decide to make an offer!!
As I was a cash buyer this helped to speed up the process - though I did have to arrange a 50% deposit through my UK bank to the vendor who lived in Sao Paulo - and the realtor dealt with the initial paperwork. The vendor's daughter lived locally and she was given power of attorney to sign on her father's behalf, so we both went first to the local council for a document stating that all taxes were paid, then to the Forum, which is where all legal matters are dealt with. She had to sign a couple of documents, and I had to countersign, and sign others - then it was a case of waiting 15 days, which I took to being a fortnight, but was 15 "working days" so three weeks! This would take us into Christmas and past the date I had to vacate the bedsit. I was worried about how I could furnish the place as there was nowhere in my town that sold furnishings, so I would have to buy elsewhere and get it delivered, but I managed to get permission to have it delivered directly to the house before the paperwork was finalised, and in fact also got permission to move in once my bedsit rental finished, but a few days before the paperwork would be completed, which was a great help.
I had seen the original title deeds before completing the sale so knew it was all in order, but had been advised that one piece of documentation was missing! The deeds showed the property dimensions and correct ownership rights, there was also a copy of the architects plans with municipal approval, BUT once built the house had never been registered on the property. No-one could give me a definitive answer as to how relevant this was, but to me all that really mattered was that the property would legally be mine, so what was placed on it was secondary to that important legal status. A couple of evenings after I moved in, and before the paperwork was finalised, there was a knock on the door - it was two men from the local council who had come to verify that the house was actually the same as had been approved from the architect's drawings, and after looking around and taking a few measurements they left - and I was given confirmation that the house was now correctly registered, organised by the vendor's daughter. So now I could sleep easily knowing that my legal title would be full and completely correct!
Finally a month after moving in I received the "escritura", which is the title deeds proving I am the legal owner of the house. The process had been relatively easy, especially since Brazil is renowned for the complicated nature of the bureaucracy, but I was relieved that everything was now OK, and I shouldn't have any future problems concerning my ownership.

The view from the kitchen that sold the house!

With friends like these who needs enemies?

I had mentioned in an earlier comment (to a post called "Crossing the line") that while I was in Peru the young friend looking after my house had contacted me saying he had caused some damage and taken some of my things, though I was unaware as to the extent as he was not very forthcoming about that, so I had to wait until my return, fearing the worst, to find out what exactly had happened.
Like many young men in Brazil he was a regular pot smoker, but about three years ago helped at an annual "trance" music festival, and admitted to me eventually that he tried some "harder" drugs there. It changed him. Even his girlfriend came to see me with concerns about his well-being, and although he wasn't addicted, he did start seeking out other drugs, though pot was about all he could afford occasionally. His mother also came to see me and I gave her some money to have him admitted to a clinic some 200 miles away, which he walked out of after 24 hours claiming to be fine, but his mother did manage to get him on some medication which seemed to be working - if he took it! He had become paranoid, under the belief that everyone hated him, and was out to get him, and was unable to find work which also didn't help. He was living at home (at 24 years of age) as he couldn't afford anything else, and this was stressing him out further, as "home" was a 2 bedroomed house with his parents, and three siblings, one mentally handicapped under medication as well.
As he appeared to be under control, confirmed by his mother who I know well, I decided it would be OK to let him look after my house while I was away - a situation that, I felt, would be mutually beneficial - I had a friend looking after my house, and he had somewhere to stay, expense free as I left money for all the utility bills, for 6 months. This would be the fourth time we had done this, and the previous three occasions it had been fairly successful - apart from a few minor breakages (glasses, plates, etc.) and losing the keys once (so I had to replace all the external door locks, three of them and three padlocks on security gates!).
My motorbike remains indoors while I am away (I keep both sets of keys with me!) , and I have a spare bedroom I use as a "junk" room, which I keep locked (normal door lock, and two padlocks) with personal things in when I travel, so was alarmed when he contacted me (as did his elder sister, who I didn't know) to say he had a breakdown, and had been curious about that room so broke in! He had rummaged around my things and found some foreign currency (Pounds, Dollars and Euros) that I keep for travelling, and had taken those to buy a mobile phone. He also said the front door was broken, but his sister said the family broke that as he had fallen asleep with a pan on the stove, and they had to get to him. Apart from them assuring me the house was secure, though he did tell me he had lost my house keys again, and that they would reimburse me, that was all I could find out while still in Peru!
I let him know my expected arrival time and got home to find the house locked up and as I didn't have a key for the flimsy padlock, and new lock they had installed, I had to make my entry round the back of the house as I still had my keys. While I was unpacking my car he showed up, and I learned a little more about what had happened, though I still don't think I have been told anything near to the truth!

This is what the outside of the front door looked like.

He told me he had lost the keys only 2 weeks prior to my return - his story being that he found an unlocked car in town and decided to sit in it "to see what it felt like to own a car", put the keys and his phone in the glove box, but forgot them when he got out of the car, and it had disappeared when he went back for them. However the front door had been damaged 5 months earlier, when his family had to break in due to the unattended pan - he apparently wasn't in the house at the time - so I realised that the keys had been lost way back then, and that breaking in was the only mode of access, meaning big lie! This morning a young man doing some garden clearance next door came across - my keys (and a phone) in the weeds, so the story about leaving them in a car was also ... big lie!

Damaged saucepan - supposed to have a double base, but totally destroyed.

Storeroom door

When I started looking round my house I found more evidence of "missing" or damaged items - first the empty box for a Casio wristwatch, "oh, I sold that, too", another irreparably damaged VW logo wristwatch, "I borrowed that and wore it, got into a fight and it got damaged", the damaged aluminium case of a knife set ...

This hadn't even been locked, but he forced it open!

... a broken figurine of an African Grey Parrot (which had been my mother's and one of the few things of hers I kept for sentimental reasons), also dotted around my house were things (ornaments and such) that I didn't recognise - till I realise they had been taken from stored boxes I was keeping for a friend! He had also brought from the storeroom a lot of my things, which I had secured in there - including some groceries I had put away for safekeeping as they would still be "in date" upon my return, some of which he had used - and I realised my stock of booze was also gone, which had included an almost full litre bottle of Single Malt Whiskey (that had cost me almost £50).

I asked if he had taken anything else and he admitted to a shirt and some shorts, "I didn't have anything to wear" - the shirt turned out to be a Lacoste Polo shirt, the only item of "designer" clothing I owned. Since I have been back it has become obvious that he also wore a lot of my t-shirts, too, since they were all clean, but folded completely differently to how I do it (I am a creature of habit!), apart from one, a dark blue t-shirt, that was covered in fluff from washing, probably with a paper tissue in the machine, which I would never have put away like that.

I changed the sheets on my bed, and found it had been made with three sheets, two fitted ones (one correctly on the bottom, and one on top over everything!) and a flat sheet - and the 6 pillows on various beds had 9 pillowcases on them (plus liners I bought in the UK).

I contacted him a couple of days later to ask about some tools that were missing, and he admitted to "borrowing" those, and returned them, though denied all knowledge of a couple of other items - including a "Rolex" watch (bought in Tunisia years ago while on holiday with my daughter to get rid of a very pushy salesman in a shop there), which to the untrained eye looked pretty original (terrible timekeeper though, which I found out on the only time I ever tried wearing it for a joke!), though when I told him that a new Rolex would cost in excess of US$5000 he almost passed out, and then admitted he might have taken that too, and sold it (I got the impression he got next to nothing for it, and didn't tell him it was a "fake", whoever bought it here wouldn't have been aware either - we do not have sophisticated "fences" here).

I had left more than enough money for all the utility bills and my Council Tax, while I was away - but he apparently blew that within days of me going, probably on drugs! His mother said she paid the bills, but when I got back I found that there were three months of electricity bills outstanding (March-May!),and one of water, and that the water had, in fact, been disconnected for two months back in May, for non-payment. The Council Tax was also unpaid, so I had to settle all those.

His mother and sister both say he has mental problems (caused by drug abuse?), and so is not really responsible for his actions! His mother insists they will reimburse me for the losses and damages, though I know this won't happen as they cannot afford it. He is on medication now, which apparently is controlling his condition, and he does appear pretty normal at the moment. I just feel so betrayed by him - I have known him for 8 years and considered him a friend, despite the age difference. I was his go-to guy when he needed anything - borrow tools, borrow money (though I never got paid back!), needed a lift somewhere, needed internet access (on my WiFi!) - and the only thing I ever asked from him was that he took care of my house, which in exchange he got to stay for free (only had to feed himself) and had the run of the place, apart from my locked storeroom!

I am not sure if I can ever forgive him, or trust him again, especially since he shows little sign of remorse for his actions - and has continued to lie about exactly what happened while I was away.

Spit or Swallow?

OK, get your minds out of the gutter - or actually that is where they should be - but this is not an X-rated post but rather about the habit of expectoration, or spitting in public.
Having lived for well over 20 years in Africa and South America, where spitting is almost a way of life, you would think that I am immune to it, and accept it as normal, but I still feel it is a disgusting habit. I recall vividly the first time I saw someone spit in the street in the UK (which shows how much of an impression it made on me!) which was in 1963 while visiting the city of Wells - we were heading for the cathedral when a man approaching hawked and spat in the street. I was dumbfounded! Although we had just returned from 3 years in Angola where it was prevalent, this was the first time I had seen it in England - and was shocked to the core. In hindsight I realise now that the 60's was a time of mass immigration into the UK (and also the start of cheap overseas holidays to Europe where British tourists would be exposed to these unsavoury practices), and this was possibly the reason it started becoming commonplace.
My grandfather was asthmatic, having been gassed in World War 1, and  spent a lot of his life afterwards bed-ridden, and used to cough up copious amounts of phlegm, which he used to spit into lidded glass jars for later disposal down the (outside) toilet, so I guess from an early age I saw spitting as a necessary activity, but one that should include safe disposal of the "spit". I must add now that I have never been a spitter, I have never felt the need to dispose of excess phlegm that way, but have always been a swallower - after all it is a product that originated in my upper respiratory tract so therefore cannot be dangerous to me, and getting rid of it by swallowing means it enters my digestive tract for "disposal"! I have always carried a handkerchief (a throwback to my British upbringing!) and could use that to capture anything I might be reluctant to swallow!
When I first moved to Brazil I spent 2 years volunteering at a small local children's charity, with most of the children between 5 and 11 years of age, and I was horrified to see several of them spitting on the floor INSIDE the building! We quickly initiated a no-spitting rule, and offenders would be ejected for 24 hours, but it took a while to stamp it out. We told them if they really felt the need to spit to use the toilet, but some would spit out of the window! One persistent offender was a 9 year-old girl, who was a handful anyway, and I asked her why she was always spitting - her reply was that she had a "bad taste" in her mouth, and was hawking up phlegm to clean her mouth and then needed to spit it out. I asked why she didn't swallow it (or have a drink of water!), as I would, and she said that was disgusting!
We tried explaining that spitting was extremely hazardous to health, and spread diseases such as Tuberculosis, Influenza, Meningitis, and even the common cold, but this fell on deaf ears - spitting was so endemic that nothing we said could change their minds that it was the only way to dispose of phlegm. Spitting in public has been banned in many places around the world - the UK has made it an offence to spit in public since 2013 (in London you risk an £80 fine), but there have been relatively few prosecutions - however this has done little to control the practice. 
I will continue to be a swallower, and tut whenever I see a spitter!

A man goes to the doctor with a headache

A young man goes to see his doctor about his headache -
"Doctor, I have had this terrible headache for months - it is driving me crazy as I just cannot get any relief!"
Doctor: "Where exactly is the pain?"
Man: "Across my forehead, and then down the left side of my face"
Doctor: "And you have tried different remedies for it already?"
Man: "I have tried everything they sell in the local chemist, and nothing gets close to relieving the pain.
I went to a Chinese herbalist, and tried everything he had there, and nothing worked either.
I have tried acupuncture, and that didn't help.
I am at my wits end, doctor, please help me!"
Doctor: "I think we will send you to a specialist for some tests, to rule out some ailments, but in the meantime I will also prescribe you some stronger painkillers. Come back and see me in two weeks."

Two weeks later -
Man: "Doctor, if anything the pain is worse! All across my forehead, and down the left side of my face!"
Doctor: "Did you see the specialist?"
Man: "Yes! He prodded and poked me all over, took blood tests, gave me an MRI scan, and a CT scan, took X-rays and cannot find anything wrong!"
Doctor: "I did some research online and came across a similar case - severe headache across the forehead and down the left hand side of the face. They managed to cure that."
Man: "Tell me how, doctor, I cannot go on like this!"
Doctor: "Well, they discovered that the problem actually originated in the testicles - the man was producing too many hormones and these were the cause of the headaches - but castration solved the problem,"
Man: "Castration? You mean cutting his balls off? I am a young man, I want to have children eventually, I cannot go through with that!"
Doctor: "Then I am afraid there is nothing I can do for you"

Two days later -
Man: "Doctor, I have thought it over, the pain is so severe I have to get some relief so I will have the operation if you are sure it will cure me"
Doctor: "Well, it worked for that other young man, so I am sure it will for you too - I can actually do the procedure here now, if you like"

So the doctor administers anaesthetic and performs the castration, and when the young man comes round lo and behold the headache has gone!
Man: "Doctor, it is a miracle, the headache has gone - for the first time in years! Thank you so much!"

A week later he goes back to the doctor -
Man: "Doctor the headache has gone and I am so grateful, but I am suffering depression as I no longer feel that I am a man!"
Doctor: "Of course you are - just because you are missing some bits doesn't make any difference to who you are, but I can understand your concerns. Why not go away for a holiday, have some fun and you will see that you haven't changed? How about a city break in London?"

So the man heads for London, sees all the sights and starts to feel better, but decides to get a new tailor-made suit in Saville Row.
He chooses the material, and the style he would like and then the tailor starts taking measurements - when he gets to the inside leg measurement he asks:
"Which side do you dress, sir?"
Man: "Dress? What do you mean?"
Tailor: "I mean when you put trousers on which side do you place your ... er, genitalia. You see, sir, we tailor the trousers to accommodate you - most trousers you buy "ready-made" meet in a Y at the crotch, and this puts pressure on your genitals, which can give you a really bad headache all across the forehead and down the left side of your face!"

Peru 2017

What started as an unremarkable journey back to Peru - following the dramas over my septic tank back in Brazil - has become a bit of a nightmare!
My journey necessitated a 7 hour overnight layover at Lima airport (not the first time I have had to do this, and never a pleasant thing to do), and I was expecting this to be the low point of my trip - however I was unprepared for what transpired! Immigration is always a little daunting, especially as I was seeking the maximum "visa" allowance on arrival, but the officer was cordial and allowed me the 180 days I requested. It isn't a big deal if they permit less time on arrival, as it is a fairly easy process to border hop to Ecuador and return with a further 90 days, but I prefer to be organised so look for the full allowance in one go.
Leaving immigration I headed for baggage reclaim ... and here the fun started! As I entered the baggage hall I noticed a "priority" porter pushing a lady's trolley towards customs some way ahead, and she had a similar suitcase to mine with other luggage on the trolley, but didn't think too much about it at that stage. I collected my own trolley and waited by the carousel, where among other luggage, a large red hard-sided case was circulating, though not the same as mine at all - the only similarity being colour and hard ABS plastic. As luggage came and went, and this case remained I started getting a little concerned, and when I saw a baggage handler removing it from the carousel after everything else had gone I asked him if there was any more to come. I couldn't help noticing, at this stage, that the red case (an Antler, whereas mine was a Carlton) had a "priority" label on it! He directed me to the airline luggage desk.
There was some consternation, and they asked me several times if I was sure that the other case wasn't mine - before they acknowledged that the other lady had probably taken mine in error! A check on their system revealed she was from Lima, but they had no contact number so would have to wait for her to come back for her case - it now being close to midnight, Thursday, that would not be happening till the morning when I would be on my way to Trujillo!
I had a change of clothing in my hand luggage, but little else - toiletries, a GoPro camera, as well as a camcorder and all my clothes were in that one suitcase! They gave me US$50 as an "emergency" fund, and I used most of that buying some toiletries at inflated airport prices, took all my details and said they would keep in contact.
Still no sign of my case by the time my flight to Trujillo left in the morning, so I had no choice but to leave Lima behind and hope that my case would soon follow. Arriving in Trujillo for a 6 month stay armed with one spare pair of underwear, a pair of shorts and a spare t-shirt is not funny! Replacing things at this stage is not really an option - 1). lack of money to do so, and 2). having unnecessary duplicates if my case turned up - however I needed to buy a few things just to tide me over.
On Saturday, after a trip into Trujillo to stock up my apartment, and buy a couple of clothing items I called the airline number they had given me - finally getting through to an English-speaking representative - my Spanish is pretty good, but I didn't want to get things wrong here. He said that as far as he knew the lady had not yet returned for her case, so there was nothing much they could do - though I did ask him if they would be treating it as theft if she didn't and contacting the Police? He never responded to that, but checked my contact details, which they had copied down wrong, and said they would be in touch.
I have had a couple of emails so far - with a link to an online form to submit my inventory- but nothing of any significance, and here I am 12 days after landing in Lima still without my belongings! What also concerns me is that I read that many airlines do not offer "new for old" but allow some depreciation due to age, and since things like electronics are more expensive anyway (for example my GoPro cost US$400 in 2014, but they are US$500 new here now!), and my clothing was all of the "activewear" style, so dry fast, offer UV protection, and are hardwearing - clothing like that fetches a huge premium here if you can find it!
Will update as this progresses.

Update: I finally received a phone call from the agent who had been emailing me. We were approaching 15 days since I landed and I had a choice to make - I could stop the "search" and they would make me an offer, or I could wait a further 10 days. I asked him what had been done so far to "look" for my case, as it was pretty obvious that another passenger had taken mine in error, and he said he would contact Lima airport directly and see what they said. I also told him that I had no choice but to cancel the search and look for a settlement as I was still without any clothes. He told me he would check the status at Lima airport and get back to me.
That call took place on Saturday morning. 2 hours later I received a call from a lady speaking Spanish - she said she was from Trujillo (local) airport and needed my password ("senha"). I asked what password, and she hung up on me! 9 pm I get another call from Trujillo airport, this time telling me that my suitcase has arrived in Trujillo!! They ask if I am at home, as they want to deliver it straight away! I was so elated of course I agreed, and as the airport is only 5 minutes away I went out onto my balcony and waited ... An hour later I was beginning to think I might have been the victim of some sort of hoax, and was about to call the number back when my phone rang again  this time it was the delivery driver, wanting to confirm the address - and 10 minutes later I had my suitcase back! Intact, unopened, undamaged and with all my belongings in it!
It did get me thinking, though, as to how long Lima airport might have been holding onto my case! The agent had only said that morning that he had no news but was going to contact the airport to see if anything was happening, and less than 12 hours later I get my suitcase back! Whatever the reason I am so relieved to have my belongings back, and not to have to try and replace everything!

Installing a Septic Tank

With under three weeks until I leave Brazil for another 6 months my neighbour dropped a bombshell on me! I have been here over 5 months, but he only tells me this now. My sewage pipes run under his property (they have been there since his father built the house, which I bought from him over 7 years ago) and he is planning to built there so I need to relocate them. Unfortunately there is no way I can re-connect to the main sewage pipe (though this is an untreated system) without crossing his property, so my only option is to build a septic tank somewhere on my land. I am more than a little annoyed as over 2 years ago a worker clearing his garden fractured my pipe, and we discussed it at the time and he assured me it was fine to leave the pipe in place as he would never build where it was located, so I paid for it to be repaired!
After 5 days trying to find someone who would construct a septic tank for me (in under 2 weeks!) yesterday evening I finally succeeded! I had to leap out in front of a motorbike ridden by the man who was supposed to come and see me about it at lunchtime the previous day to achieve this - he brought another man round later who will do the job for me. 
He kept saying "o senhor sabe o que queres" - "you know what you want", but I kept saying "no, I don't , that why I need you to tell me what I need", and eventually he told me what I needed (the guy who brought him works for the Water Company so between them they worked it out!), and quoted a price ... to dig the hole! I told him I needed a quote for the complete job, explaining also about the time constraint, and I wanted a completed tank, connected up to my house waste pipes. More discussion between them and a revised price, but this excludes any materials - something I find strange is that when you employ any workman here he just charges you for his labour and expertise (well, you assume he has some of the latter!), but everything else you have to order and pay for separately, when I would have thought that he could work a deal with the Builders' Merchant so he collects the discount as well! I know that they will always quote "Gringo" prices, but if I am happy with the quote I never haggle as it is always a fraction of what you would pay "back home" and a lot of the time is probably too low as Maths is not a strong point here - by agreeing to their original price it is unlikely they will come back and try and renegotiate later (and I had a witness this time too!), and generates some goodwill too. We shook on it and he agreed to come back this morning.
8.30 he appears with a "mate", who is a builder, but no tools, and say they are going to measure up and mark it out and start the following day. I say I will need a list of materials so I can make sure they are delivered in good time and they start by saying I need "half a load" of sand (wonder if that will be collected from our river?) and another "half load" of "xarem" (not sure of the spelling, and have no idea what it might be!) - apparently I won't need that much but they only deliver a "half load", or a "full load"! I ask them if they will order that and I will pay for it on arrival, as I have no idea who to order from anyway! We will need some plastic pipes later, but for now they ask me to order 300 bricks and 3 bags of cement, which I do after they leave.
I show them where I think will be a good place for the tank, but explain that I will rely on their expertise in the matter if this location is unsuitable (I want my kitchen waste to also be connected to this so this does limit the location options too as my property is on a steep slope), but they say I have chosen well. First thing they ask if I have something they can clear the area with, like a mattock, so I fetch that, then they ask if I have a machete, so they can cut a measuring stick, and finally ask for some rope so they can measure a circle. The irony of 2 workmen arriving and having to ask for tools is not lost on me! The builder "mate" finally marks out a circle, and they tell me the original guy will be back tomorrow to start, and he assures me it will all be finished by Sunday, which is 4 days away (though I am taking that with a huge pinch of salt!).
Will update this as it progresses.

The Eternal Optimist

Despite having lived in Brazil for the past 7 years I still maintain the very British hope that tradesmen will turn up on time! Yes, I know I shouldn't be so naive after all this time, but I still have ingrained in me the very British notion that you turn up when you say you will. Similarly I still expect a good standard of workmanship - despite being disappointed time after time - one has to live in hope or else wallow in despair!
As I write this I am waiting for a man to come and talk to me about putting a septic tank on my property. A neighbour, who he did the same for, called him up yesterday and he agreed to come to my house, which he knew as he originally installed my sewage system some years ago (before I bought the house), at "mid-day". Now, in a land where very, very few people wear watches, mid-day could just mean "in the afternoon", but my neighbour assured me it would be noon.
There is an added element here in that I leave Brazil in little over 2 weeks, so need to get this work completed before I head to Peru.
You have to look out for them to arrive as unlike many countries where they will come and knock on your door (or ring the doorbell) here (and in Peru, for that matter!) they will stand at the gate and clap, whistle, or possibly call out. Just before 2 pm I heard my name being called, but it was the neighbour who had made the arrangements saying the man could not come that day, but would come Sunday "morning". It is currently 11.30 am and I am still waiting, jumping up at every noise in the street outside!

It got me thinking about my other experiences with workmen here in Brazil, and how in fact almost every one was, in some way, unsatisfactory.
1. When I first bought my house I needed to have some work done - particularly exterior painting, a new front door (the existing one was actually an interior door and was in a very poor state), new access (as the existing one was across a neighbouring property), both pedestrian (which also involved having steps built up to the road) and vehicular, and having some canopies built over several windows that were allowing rain ingress. There is no such thing as Yellow Pages here locally but there were some builders across the road constructing a large wall round a vacant lot there so I spoke to them and they agreed to do my work "part-time", which meant weekends and after they finished each day for an hour or so. I ordered all the materials they said I would need and once it all arrived they got started. I had offered the main builder (they were a team of 4) an "entrada", or deposit, but he said that wouldn't be necessary as they were being paid for the other job so it would be nice to get the money at the end (here you just pay the tradesman for his labour, all other expenses like materials you pay separately).
They started mid-week and the first few days it was fine - until Friday afternoon, when Juvenal asked if I could pay him a little in advance as he needed to buy a big bag of dog-food. I duly obliged - I had after all offered a deposit originally - and he said they would be back on Saturday and would work both then and Sunday. I didn't see them until Monday afternoon (they didn't even work across the road on Monday - it is Market Day here and often is considered a "day off"!) when I was given no explanation, other than one of his "mates" implying he had been too drunk to work! This was the pattern throughout the work, but as progress was being made, and I was in no particular hurry, and was told it was the norm here!
Part of the work required him to sub-contract a carpenter, namely the front door and the canopy supports - and the first day he was here the carpenter took me to the local hardware store to get the hardwood door. He measured them up, looked carefully at all they had to make sure they were "true", and selected one, which I paid for. This was the first example of unsatisfactory! Within 6 months the door started warping - but it was the hinge stile that was warping, pulling the hinge outwards, not the flat plane of the door warping! It means I have to occasionally sand down the opposite side, the lock stile, so it doesn't jam!
About a month after the work was completed one of the canopies also fell off (also done by the same carpenter!), ripping the timber supports out of the wall. When I contacted the builder about repairing it (at my cost, of course) he immediately knew which one had fallen off, as he had queried the fact that the supports were too short! Since he was supervising the work I asked why he didn't say anything at the time, and he just shrugged and said it was the carpenter's responsibility! He also said the man was a little crazy and needed hospitalisation!

2. There must be a thing here with carpenters as I had another strange experience with them. The local radio station was running adverts from 2 new carpenters who had started up a joinery (furniture making) business, so I went along to see them. I particularly wanted a new sink unit for my kitchen, but also some storage shelves for my "spare" (junk") room, and some dis-mountable bunk beds, which could be used as 2 single beds. I carefully drew up scale plans and talked through them with one of the carpenters, and he agreed they would be easy to make using local hardwood, which he assured me was sustainably sourced!
I had asked for 2 one metre shelves, but when I went to collect it they had made 1 two metre shelf! Not a big deal, I suppose, and it fit where I wanted it so no real problem.
The sink unit had to fit into the space the old one was in so when I gave them the drawings had explained that the rear left leg had to be half a centimetre shorter for it to stand level and flush. When I collected (it comes in pieces as they don't have transport so you collect it yourself and re-assemble at home) I asked if they had marked the "short" leg, but he said he didn't know which it would be so had cut the all the same!! The unit is symmetrical - open shelves - so front and back are the same, so all it needed was one leg being cut shorter - something I couldn't do as it is very tough hardwood, so eventually had to have the backing tiles cut so it would fit under them!
The bunk beds!! I wanted standard single bed size, which in Brazil is 88cms (24.5 ins), and my plans clearly showed this. Again the beds were in pieces when I collected them so I put them together at home, and then measured them before going to buy mattresses (in the only shop here that sells them!). I couldn't help noticing that instead of 88cms, the bed was only 84cms across, so asked at the shop if they had 84cm mattresses - he looked at me strangely and said they did 78 and 88 only (78 being child size, common in bunk beds!). As it happened one of the carpenters was in the shop (I hadn't actually seen him before as all my dealings were with the other one),and he said that he had been unsure about my measurements so had come to the shop before they built them and measured up a bunk bed (child sized!) in the shop, but then added a little to that measurement! So my beds are 4cms, or around one and a half inches narrower than the mattresses I bought!

3. The old tiles on my kitchen floor were breaking up and though tiling is something I can easily do, and have done in my guest bedroom, I needed this doing fast as it was the kitchen. So I called my builder and asked if he could do it quickly, and he said it would take 2 days! I stripped the kitchen area, removing everything including the sink (we don't have fitted kitchens so all the units had been free-standing), leaving him an empty space to work in. It didn't take him long to remove the old tiles and start marking out for the new ones I had bought, along with a couple of packets of tile spacers, which he said he didn't need! By the end of the day about half the floor was tiled, though the lines were a little suspect, and he had used a tile saw to cut the adjoining tiles (it is open plan) where the lines got too close together!
The second day he completed the tiling by lunchtime, but said he would return the following day to do the grouting as he needed to go to the hospital now as he had the flu! I didn't see or hear from him for the next 2 days so decided I had to finish the grouting myself, and saw then how badly the tiling had been done! The lines weren't straight, the gaps were all shapes and sizes, and there was even a chipped tile! The grouting didn't take that long and I soon had the kitchen back into a functioning state.
A week later there is a knock at the door - it is his son (who was on the original team with hi when they did the first lot of work), saying that Dad had sent him to finish the job! According to his son he had damaged his back, and had been in hospital, which was why he couldn't come back, and looked surprised when I asked him about the (non-existent!) flu! I told him I had finished the work, though was not happy, but wanted to speak with his father and needed to pay him as well. He did appear 2 days later, shrugged at my complaints about the standard of workmanship, collected his tools - and payment - and left!

(Still no sign of the tradesman I am waiting for, over an hour later!)