And then one day, we didn’t have any gas

I seriously feel like a homeowner. In the four months we’ve lived here, we’ve suffered through water shortages, cistern blockages, telephone-line installation problems, and now: a broken gas meter.

The gas problems started a few days ago, when the pilot light on our water heater went out. (Unfortunately, I realized this after I’d already gotten into the shower.) I thought: No biggie. Crayton will light it when he gets home. But when he got home, he couldn’t keep the thing lit. It’d shut off as soon as we turned the temperature dial. And then — our stove stopped working. After I’d already poured olive oil into the pan to make sauteed peppers and onions for tostadas. You can see said pan above, on the left.

Called the gas company yesterday, and at first they insisted it wasn’t their problem.

“I’m sure it’s something on your end,” a receptionist calling herself Señora Ibañez said. “If it was a problem with the whole building, we would’ve gotten more phone calls. You’re the only call we’ve gotten.”

Before I could attempt to argue with that ludicrous logic — I’m in a building with three offices where people don’t shower or use the stove; two other residents here have been on vacation — they agreed to send someone over and take a look.

Fast forward to several hours later. Two gas men were standing on our roof. One was maybe 16 years old, wearing skinny jeans and a white belt. The other looked about 40. Pablo was also standing there too, for some reason I wasn’t entirely aware of.

“Here’s your problem,” the older guy told me. Using a wrench, he removed the gas meter from its two pipes and showed it to me. “Your meter was made in 2005. See? It says 2005 here.” He pointed at the 2005 on the front of the meter.

I nodded.

“These things are really cheap, throwaways made in China. You should have gotten a 2008 version installed.”

Yeah yeah yeah dude, I wanted to say. Just get to the point.

“See, if I blow on it here” — he put his lips to one edge of the meter, which had just been on the pipe, and puffed out his cheeks — “The air doesn’t escape. See? It should escape out the other side. That means there’s a blockage somewhere in there. Try it.”

He passed the meter to Pablo, who immediately put his lips on the meter and tried to blow, too.

“How much is a new meter going to cost?” I asked.

“Well… with parts and labor… probably about $1,500 pesos.” This is about $111 dollars.

“Fine. Let’s do it.”

In the background, Pablo was still blowing on the meter.

So. They’re coming back today to install this meter, which is hopefully a 2008 version that won’t break again in six months. They’re also going to repair a leaky “llave,” which is basically a little tube through which the gas passes, in order to reach our meter. That’s included in our 1,500 peso quote. In the meantime, the guy jerry-rigged a pipe so that we could mooch gas off someone else, just so we can take showers today and stuff.

If you are a praying person, please say a little prayer that this is the last home-maintenance issue we have to deal with. I shudder to think what else could happen as time passes here.

And now, to celebrate the temporary return of our gas, I’m going to make roasted peach ice cream.