Tuesday, May 28, 2019

getting gassed


Now and then, I need to remember what drew me to Mexico.

I decided I was far too comfortable in Salem. I wanted to get up every morning and not know how I was going to get through the day.

Mexico has kept its end of the bargain. In spades. And I need to remember that when I encounter the topes. They are supposed to remind me why I am here.

My latest life-affirming experience was getting propane. That sounds like a pretty simple task. I am not aware of any home in these parts that does not use propane for cooking. Some use it to heat water.

It comes in two versions. Propane delivered to your home in cylinders in the back of a truck. Or delivered in a truck with a large tank of propane to fill the tank in your house.

For six years, I was a cylinder guy. Both of my rentals had dual cylinders. When one ran out, I would switch to the other tank and order a new cylinder. If all went well, if the cylinder did not run dry before the delivery arrived. Sometimes, things did not go well. For a lot of reasons.

When I bought the house with no name, it had cylinders. I switched them out for a tank (the largest I could find in town) because I was tired of the cylinder two-step.

The tank has worked just as I planned. I use propane only to cook. My water has a solar heater. So, I do not use much propane. I thought that I had never had it filled other than when I first moved in. The Global Gas records show it has been filled twice.

Last February, the gauge was dropping close to the 20% mark when the pressure is inadequate to force propane through the system. But my timing was terrible.

I tried calling both propane company offices. Neither would answer the telephone. I drove to the office of one company three different times to schedule delivery. A truck never arrived.

There were extenuating circumstances. This was about the same time the Mexican government created its own gasoline shortage by cutting off the gasoline pipe lines in a quixotic attempt to stamp out cartel and free-lance puncturing of the pipe lines to steal fuel. I am not quite certain of the reasoning, but the gasoline embargo also created a propane shortage during the height of the northern tourist season.

Because the propane companies were short of supply and long on demand, they started their own rationing program. They would sell primarily to hotels and other businesses -- to keep them from losing custom. Of course, that meant very few home deliveries. The truck drivers were even refusing bribes. So I have heard.

Just as the propane scarcity was ending, I was off on three trips. Two in Mexico; one in Australasia. When I was home, I set up appointments for propane, but no one showed up.

The dial finally worked its way down to 20% this month. The pressure was still high enough to cook, but I desperately needed the tank filled.

Even with a house guest visiting Mexico, I would stay home for days at a time. I need to be here for two purposes: 1) to let the gas men drag their house through the garage door and 2) to shell out the equivalent of a good lunch in Portland.

Yesterday, I handed the project over to Omar. He called and received a promise that the delivery would occur before the close of business. Because it was now his project, I thought I would also let him wait. But he had both work and school on his schedule.

So, I waited. Not surprisingly to no avail. I was going to call again this morning, but I needed to drive to Villa Obregon to obtain information on setting up my Telcel modem now that it is in my hands.

And then a miracle occurred. Just as I pulled up in front of my house, the propane truck pulled around the corner.

I gave each of the workers a glass of water. Before they could finish them, my tank was filled. I paid the requested $1,200 (Mx) (about $62 (US)), and they were on their way.

The contents of the tank should hold me for about two years or so.

And I can then, once again, go through the do-si-do of buying propane in Mexico. After all, daily difficulties were part of the bargain of moving here.

And I would have it no other way.


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