Note: in Spain, “wifi” is pronounced “weefee” and often used in plural. I used to use this ironically with my friends, but now it’s how I refer to “wifi” as “weefee” or “weefees” both out loud and in my head all the time. Who’s laughing now??
Anyway, let’s begin: I just had wifi installed in my apartment. I had been trying with all my might to avoid this by working (with Raquel’s permission) to get a wifi amplifier to shoot her wifi down to my apartment too. Unfortunately, after 4 trips to a local tech store buying and then returning various amplifiers, I had to come to terms with the fact that I’d have to get my own wifi. Thankfully, I was able to wrangle a good deal out of my phone provider. Thinking that getting the deal would be the hard part, I waited a couple days to go back to give them my passport and bank details. Unfortunately, I decided the apt time to drop off said details was an hour and a half before I needed to prepare for a flight then catch a bus in order to get to my flight on time. And when I decide to do something, I needto finish it. There is no other option. My passport details were fine, but I needed a different document from my bank which required me sprinting across the street to a branch of my bank, waiting in a short line that took a ridiculously long time, getting a print out of the EXACT SAME INFO I’d already given the wifi company, and then sprinting back. After a much longer process than I’d planned on, they told me they would call in a few days to set up an installation time and I ran back to my house to whip up pancakes, change, and throw my last few things in my bag. Why, you might ask, did I make pancakes when I had less than 30 minutes to get to my bus? I recently added eggs back into my diet and found out you can make delicious pancakes with just bananas, eggs (and I toss in cinnamon and flaxseed) and in my planning of the week I’d decided I was going to make pancakes before my flight on Thursday, so, again, it had to happen. I threw everything together for my pancakes – changing my clothes and doing my last minute packing between pancake flipping and then dish cleaning. I scarfed down the pancakes and was two minutes ahead of schedule when my phone rang. Thinking it must be Gonzalo, I answered without looking at the ID and was slightly surprised to hear a woman’s voice asking me, in Spanish of course, if they could come in 20 minutes to set up my wifi. Honestly. When does that EVER happen?? I explained that I was leaving for a trip and would be back Sunday. She seemed kind of annoyed, but we settled on a time for Monday afternoon and then as she’s about to hang up, she tells me to have the key to a certain room. I, naturally, have NO IDEA what she is talking about, so I ask what that room is. She just repeats the name huffily and as I’m now 2 minutes late, I say okay and hang up. As I begin speed-walking to the bus stop I quickly text Raquel asking for an explanation and who I should ask. Raquel explains it’s an electrical room in the lobby of the building that’s locked and the person who has the key has been sick for a few weeks, but that she’d check with some neighbors. I thanked her and continued my hurried pace to the bus, where I arrive 7 minutes before it left and then arrived to the airport probably and hour and a half before I actually needed to be there. Better early than late though, right? Anyway, I spent my weekend enjoying Rioja, and, not wanting to bother Raquel, I didn’t check with her about the key until we got into her car Monday morning. She’d forgotten, so I quickly texted the person who manages the apartment I rent. That person tried to help me, but tells me that no one is responding. I’ve gotten used to this delayed action in Spain, especially on the Canaries, but I was starting to worry. I couldn’t do anything else that morning as I was teaching, but as soon as school let out for the day, I began furiously searching who to call in order to reschedule my appointment. Finally when I found a helpful phone number (Orange, you need to step up your communication game) I explained my predicament and then asked the man responding to slow down approximately 5 times until I deduced that he wanted me to proceed with the appointment regardless of my lack of key. He said if they couldn’t do it, they’d reschedule directly with me. I crossed my fingers that I wouldn’t waste anyone’s time and waited anxiously for the call saying the technician was on her or his way. Fifteen minutes after my scheduled appointment time, I got a call saying the technician was running late, but he’d be there in between 40 minutes and an hour. I decided to pop down to the ocean to swim and soon after my own return to my apartment (after getting dressed thankfully), my apartment was buzzed and I let the technician in. Now, I was not planning on writing a blog about getting wifi in my apartment, but as soon as he walked in with so many bags of tools and the like hanging around him that he almost didn’t fit through my door, I thought maybe I would end up having a story to tell after all. Immediately after (barely) making it into my apartment, he laid down his stuff all over. Literally, all over. There was stuff on the floor, on the futon, on the kitchen table, and even, yes, on my bed. The then moved my dresser so quickly, a glass bowl nearly slid off. I grabbed the bowl and quickly moved other things off other surfaces, while pointing him to another site that I thought might have the connection he needed (as whatever was behind the dresser was not). Sure enough, it was what he needed. I was too nervous to say anything about the key, so as he pulled out certain instruments to test the connection on the wall, I hovered around with my fingers crossed. Soon after connecting an instrument to the wall, he let out a Spanish “YAY!” Kissed the instrument, and thanked god. I could only hope this meant the installation would be simple. Calmer, he began to ask me the usual questions, starting with where I’m from. I said the US, he smiled and said “Donald Trump!” Exasperated, I responded “ugh, yeah, are you a fan?” He laughed heartily and told me no. His second question was whether I liked the island. I told him I did, that it was very calm and beautiful to which he responded (translations mine) “Yeah, it’s very relaxed, not like the peninsula [mainland Spain] where everyone is running around in a rush, busy all of the time.” I genuinely had to stop myself from laughing out loud. Yes, the islands are more relaxed than the Peninsula, but sometimes I couldn’t even take how “relaxed” the peninsula is! [Read my last year’s No Pasa Nada blog if you have any questions]. Compared to the way many people live in the US, the idea of Spain being in a rush is laughable. As my friend from last year used to say, Spain just isn’t built for A-type Americans. Anyway, he proceeded installing my wifi. At one point he wanted a better angle to the connection in the wall, so shoved the futon without checking the space around it, nearly sending the lamp crashing through the window. Luckily, I saw that happening and like a slow-motion comedy, I ran to the lamp and caught it before it hit anything. He then proceeded to talk on the phone with his mom on speaker phone while he worked and later pulled out a hot glue gun to adhere something to my wall. I didn’t ask questions. When he was packing up, I finally got the courage to tell him about the key. I explained about my call to reschedule and not wanting to waste his time and he was SHOCKED. He just kept reiterating how lucky I was that he didn’t need it and that most of the time I would’ve been S.O.L. All I could think was how relieved I was that I wouldn’t have to go through days of figuring out where this key was JBy the end I was both amused and impressed. It took maximum an hour when they’d told me it could take up to three and so far, my wifi is functioning perfectly. He was very amiable and clearly did a great job. Alright, well, time to use that wifi to get back on my study jam. Until next time!
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November 2018
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