Saturday, April 07, 2007
The “Electricians”
As I may have mentioned water is cold and full of baddies and minerals so boiling it is essential. We have two means of heating water: the stove and the kettle. The local term for kettle is water boiler. Ours is a mineral caked mess on the inside, but we only use it for washing dishes. It rests on the counter, always full, with its black plastic lid set slightly askew, its red automatic-off switch in the off position – though it sometimes sticks – and its removable cord hanging from its dedicated wall socket. I used the kettle a lot in the first few days as it is quick to boil and easy to use, when it works.
After the third or fourth use in a row the kettle stopped working. I thought nothing of it and learned quickly which was the best pot for boiling on the stove. After playing with the switch and cord for a day or two and learning a bit more of how things work around the workshop, I made an enquiry to see if someone could drop by to have a look at the defective kettle.
It took a while but eventually one of the electricians showed up followed shortly by a second. The boys, as Emma Stella called them, tinkered around with the kettle’s plug, which appeared to be a little melted inside. It was also, seemingly, welded to the adapter, which was in turn welded to the socket. The boys returned to the shop and came back in a while with a small pry bar. They worked at pulling the pieces apart for a bit before one of them decided it might be a good idea to flip the breaker, I agreed. To their credit the sockets here all have an on/off switch on them, but for safety sake we all thought killing the power at the breaker would be the best thing to do.
So they went to the panel and killed the main power and went back to the prying. It wasn’t long before they had broken the bond and had the plug out of the adapter and the adapter out of the socket. However, all that prying left all of the pieces of the puzzle unusable. So they went to work on the socket in order to replace it. It was a good thing that they had their little test light because even with the main power off the socket was live. There was a whole lot of head scratching and some loud Swahili before they decided to climb into the ceiling and trace the wiring to see what the deal was.
The hole to the attic is just outside the kitchen by the front door and the boys quickly gathered the necessary tools for the Tanzanian ladder. With a small table from the kitchen and a chair to step up onto the table the eldest electrician began to climb up. Of course with a table that is less than a meter high it was difficult for a man of about 5’6” to get himself through the hole. So I volunteered my shoulder and up he went.
The darkness of the attic prompted him to quickly ask for a flashlight but with his broken English and my broken Swahili getting the gist of the question took some time. Speaking of time this little kettle issue was taking forever to resolve and with the discovery in the attic of the wall separating our home from the attached home next door time was about to drag even further.
The plan now was to gain entry into the home next door by getting in touch with the Matron. The Matron however, like the rest of the management, was in an important two-day meeting. I was not optimistic that we would resolve the problem today and after a quick walk around the kitchen we found that none of the sockets worked, including the fridge’s. This was not a good sign as our main power had been restored. So off the boys went to find the Matron and get our water boiler back online.
I was surprised when, about 45 minutes later, the Matron led the electricians back to the house with keys in hand. She quickly opened the house and left without a word. But we weren’t after words, we were after action and that is what followed. With three electricians now buzzing around between the kitchen, our breaker and that of the neighbouring house, I was certain we would be boiling water in no time flat. But for some reason the work dragged on. I call it work, but in hindsight this period of about an hour and a half seemed only to be taken up by testing and retesting wires, screwing out screws and screwing them back in and a great deal of head scratching.
With the head scratching complete, the most accomplished or most confidant of my new friends gave the all clear and switched on the kettle. It steamed to life and in no time the little red automatic switch clicked down to signal that the water was ready for washing dishes. We checked the fridge for life as well and found it to be fine. The lights in the kitchen were once again glowing and the boys set off back to the shop for a late lunch.
We were happy that the work was done but shared a few laughs with Emma Stella over the amount of time it took to get this small repair done. Abby returned from Karina Neema’s house and was a little tired and wanted to watch a movie. This was fine with me but the laptop batteries were a little low and needed to be plugged in. I found the surge arrester and plugged it in to the socket in the living room. It normally has a little yellow light that comes on while it tests the circuit followed by a green light meaning its ready. Neither of these came on and I had a sinking feeling we had more electrical work that needed to be done. Then I almost slapped myself when I noticed I had neglected to turn on the socket switch, ‘oops’ I thought. I flipped the switch and waited for the yellow light, but nothing happened. Crap!
So I walked over to the shop to find an electrician and found one in the office. He came out to talk to me, or rather to listen. As this guy had not come to the house yet, I explained the work that had been done and the current (no pun intended) problem and asked that he come over. “No problem”, he said, and walked in the direction of the main shop office. I figured he was going to consult the shop manager and be over shortly so I walked home to wait. And, I waited. After about 45 minutes I headed back up to the shop to see what was going on, it was getting close to 2:30 and with a 4PM quitting time and the pace of the previous work, I figured time was of the essence if we wanted this new problem fixed today.
I found Alphonse, a guy I had spoken with a few times and asked for him to help me find an electrician. He turned to a guy that was standing close by and said, “here’s one”. It was the same guy I had spoken to 45 minutes earlier, but now Alphonse spoke to him in Swahili and made him follow me home. I realized on the way that he had no idea of what I had said earlier as he knew very little English. Oops!
Once we reached the house describing the problem was a little easier as I could mime it and Emma Stella could let fly the Swahili until he was up to speed. He grabbed his cell phone and called the guys that were in the house earlier and within a few minutes the whole gang was back. They spent some more time scratching their heads, testing circuits and climbing around in the ceiling. This was truly a confusing problem.
They were testing at the breaker and finding power and then testing directly above the ceiling, 12 inches away and finding a dead circuit. This caused more crawling around up there and more testing. Meanwhile, the guy that spoke no English unscrewed all of the sockets in the living room and tested them. To do this he had to go to the hole in the ceiling and call for the tester to be tossed down. With one tester for three guys, the pace of work was really slow. However, they were making progress; they had tracked the problem to, what I hope is, a junction box in the ceiling. The plugs soon had power again and they were all screwed back together. It was about 5 minutes to quitting time and the boys hit the trail after much thanks from us. I think we now have some good “electrician” friends. I hope the plumbers understand more English...
After the third or fourth use in a row the kettle stopped working. I thought nothing of it and learned quickly which was the best pot for boiling on the stove. After playing with the switch and cord for a day or two and learning a bit more of how things work around the workshop, I made an enquiry to see if someone could drop by to have a look at the defective kettle.
It took a while but eventually one of the electricians showed up followed shortly by a second. The boys, as Emma Stella called them, tinkered around with the kettle’s plug, which appeared to be a little melted inside. It was also, seemingly, welded to the adapter, which was in turn welded to the socket. The boys returned to the shop and came back in a while with a small pry bar. They worked at pulling the pieces apart for a bit before one of them decided it might be a good idea to flip the breaker, I agreed. To their credit the sockets here all have an on/off switch on them, but for safety sake we all thought killing the power at the breaker would be the best thing to do.
So they went to the panel and killed the main power and went back to the prying. It wasn’t long before they had broken the bond and had the plug out of the adapter and the adapter out of the socket. However, all that prying left all of the pieces of the puzzle unusable. So they went to work on the socket in order to replace it. It was a good thing that they had their little test light because even with the main power off the socket was live. There was a whole lot of head scratching and some loud Swahili before they decided to climb into the ceiling and trace the wiring to see what the deal was.
The hole to the attic is just outside the kitchen by the front door and the boys quickly gathered the necessary tools for the Tanzanian ladder. With a small table from the kitchen and a chair to step up onto the table the eldest electrician began to climb up. Of course with a table that is less than a meter high it was difficult for a man of about 5’6” to get himself through the hole. So I volunteered my shoulder and up he went.
The darkness of the attic prompted him to quickly ask for a flashlight but with his broken English and my broken Swahili getting the gist of the question took some time. Speaking of time this little kettle issue was taking forever to resolve and with the discovery in the attic of the wall separating our home from the attached home next door time was about to drag even further.
The plan now was to gain entry into the home next door by getting in touch with the Matron. The Matron however, like the rest of the management, was in an important two-day meeting. I was not optimistic that we would resolve the problem today and after a quick walk around the kitchen we found that none of the sockets worked, including the fridge’s. This was not a good sign as our main power had been restored. So off the boys went to find the Matron and get our water boiler back online.
I was surprised when, about 45 minutes later, the Matron led the electricians back to the house with keys in hand. She quickly opened the house and left without a word. But we weren’t after words, we were after action and that is what followed. With three electricians now buzzing around between the kitchen, our breaker and that of the neighbouring house, I was certain we would be boiling water in no time flat. But for some reason the work dragged on. I call it work, but in hindsight this period of about an hour and a half seemed only to be taken up by testing and retesting wires, screwing out screws and screwing them back in and a great deal of head scratching.
With the head scratching complete, the most accomplished or most confidant of my new friends gave the all clear and switched on the kettle. It steamed to life and in no time the little red automatic switch clicked down to signal that the water was ready for washing dishes. We checked the fridge for life as well and found it to be fine. The lights in the kitchen were once again glowing and the boys set off back to the shop for a late lunch.
We were happy that the work was done but shared a few laughs with Emma Stella over the amount of time it took to get this small repair done. Abby returned from Karina Neema’s house and was a little tired and wanted to watch a movie. This was fine with me but the laptop batteries were a little low and needed to be plugged in. I found the surge arrester and plugged it in to the socket in the living room. It normally has a little yellow light that comes on while it tests the circuit followed by a green light meaning its ready. Neither of these came on and I had a sinking feeling we had more electrical work that needed to be done. Then I almost slapped myself when I noticed I had neglected to turn on the socket switch, ‘oops’ I thought. I flipped the switch and waited for the yellow light, but nothing happened. Crap!
So I walked over to the shop to find an electrician and found one in the office. He came out to talk to me, or rather to listen. As this guy had not come to the house yet, I explained the work that had been done and the current (no pun intended) problem and asked that he come over. “No problem”, he said, and walked in the direction of the main shop office. I figured he was going to consult the shop manager and be over shortly so I walked home to wait. And, I waited. After about 45 minutes I headed back up to the shop to see what was going on, it was getting close to 2:30 and with a 4PM quitting time and the pace of the previous work, I figured time was of the essence if we wanted this new problem fixed today.
I found Alphonse, a guy I had spoken with a few times and asked for him to help me find an electrician. He turned to a guy that was standing close by and said, “here’s one”. It was the same guy I had spoken to 45 minutes earlier, but now Alphonse spoke to him in Swahili and made him follow me home. I realized on the way that he had no idea of what I had said earlier as he knew very little English. Oops!
Once we reached the house describing the problem was a little easier as I could mime it and Emma Stella could let fly the Swahili until he was up to speed. He grabbed his cell phone and called the guys that were in the house earlier and within a few minutes the whole gang was back. They spent some more time scratching their heads, testing circuits and climbing around in the ceiling. This was truly a confusing problem.
They were testing at the breaker and finding power and then testing directly above the ceiling, 12 inches away and finding a dead circuit. This caused more crawling around up there and more testing. Meanwhile, the guy that spoke no English unscrewed all of the sockets in the living room and tested them. To do this he had to go to the hole in the ceiling and call for the tester to be tossed down. With one tester for three guys, the pace of work was really slow. However, they were making progress; they had tracked the problem to, what I hope is, a junction box in the ceiling. The plugs soon had power again and they were all screwed back together. It was about 5 minutes to quitting time and the boys hit the trail after much thanks from us. I think we now have some good “electrician” friends. I hope the plumbers understand more English...
