The Gas Shortage

July 26, 2008
Saturday
5:25PM
Sayausi
Our Apartment


Last Saturday evening the gas tank for our calefon (gas water heater) se acabo (ran out). However, we were not worried because we had been told on countless occasions that a pickup truck loaded with gas tanks drives through the town’s streets each morning; once at 6:30am then again at 8:30am. Not only that but he comes through beeping his horn so as to alert those with tanks que han acabado can wait patiently in their houses or apartments and only when they hear the honking do they need to step outside and wave down the gas truck. Then it is only a matter of exchanging your empty tank with one of the many full tanks in the back of the truck. Of course you have to pay $2.00 for this full tank which will provide enough gas to heat piping hot showers for two people and scalding hot water for countless dishes and pans for just over a month.

So, worried we were not when our tank gave its last ounce of hot water halfway through a shower (luckily this happened to Mike and not me as having been raised in the Arizona suburban desert I lack a certain appreciation for all things surprisingly ice cold) on Saturday night.

That very next morning we were up at six and waiting inside our apartment for the sound of a honking horn that would signal the arrival of the gas truck. However, this waiting for the sound of a honking horn proved a very unreliable way of knowing whether or not the gas truck was passing by our apartment. You see in Ecuador the “honk” is not reserved solely for averting accidents and announcing the arrival of the gas truck. The “honk” or “beep-beep” or “beep-beep-beep” can mean any of the following things: the driver sees you, the driver is going to be passing by a person who is walking, the driver thinks someone on the street is cute, the driver sees another driver he/she knows, the driver will not be slowing down as he/she cruises through a pedestrian heavy area, the driver is saying ‘hello, good morning/afternoon/evening to the people in the streets/other cars/comedors along the street, the driver needs to scare some livestock out of the street, the driver is simply having fun driving and honking his/her horn, and lastly that the driver wants to avoid an accident, or possibly has tanks of gas to sell.

Therefore we spent last Sunday morning running to the window to see if the gas truck was passing by. We then spent Sunday afternoon sitting on our stoop (doorstep to the apartment building) waiting for the truck to pass by with the tanks of gas. We waited a good part of the day (expect when I was on the field with my soccer team) waiting for this truck to come….it never did despite the fact that people continued to tell us that he comes everyday…except maybe on Sundays, sometimes…it just depends but he definitely comes every other day of the week.

Ok, so he didn’t come on Sunday that’s no big deal, we’re living in a super Catholic community outside of a major city where absolutely nothing is open on Sundays. He’ll come on Monday.

The next morning we were up again at six. Mike took our empty tank down to the doorstep of our apartment building and waited. I stayed inside and started making breakfast. At 6:35am I heard the “beep-beep-beep”, the fast approach of a car/truck to our doorstep, then Mike’s voice asking for a tank of gas. Great! A few minutes later Mike came up the stairs with a full tank of gas. Not so bad for a small community in a developing country.

Mike proceeded to hook up the gas tank to the calefon after which I opened the hot water faucet….no hot water. Mike moved the tank to the kitchen and hooked it up to the stove…no flame.

After a few minutes of fiddling with the tank Mike figured out that if he pressed down on the regulator gas would leave from that tank and we could get a flame on the stove…without pressing down on the regulator nada de gas would leave the tank.

So, now we had a full tank of gas that didn’t work and another tank certainly on its last leg. The honking gas truck was of course by now long gone. Again, we were not too worried as we could just use the one working tank we had for both the hot water and the stove until the next morning when the gas truck would pass again and we could exchange the faulty tank for one that works. It’s a little bit of leg (and back) work moving the tank back and forth, but hey, this is Peace Corps.

Tuesday morning we were up at six, again. Mike took that faulty tank downstairs to wait for the gas truck to pass and I started to make breakfast. Six-thirty five rolled around and still no promising beeps. Seven o’clock rolled around and still no sign of the gas truck. We eat breakfast downstairs and wait until Mike needs to leave for work. No gas truck came.

Wednesday morning we waited downstairs even though Mike was supposed to go on a hike with the Biologist from Cajas to check out a backwoods creek that supposedly had some tadpoles in it belonging to an endangered endemic frog. He figured that while Andean paramo frogs are important so is our hot water (or lack of it). We sat outside from 6:00am until 11:00am and no gas truck! Everyone is still telling us that the gas guy passes by every morning and que mala suerte that we got a bad tank. Mala suerte indeed! Later that afternoon while we were in Cuenca looking into volunteering at the Cruz Roja we ran smack into a gas truck. Unfortunately we did not have our 100 pound tank with us to exchange with them but they did give us a cauchito (a rubber o-ring that fits in the valve of the tank and sometimes causes them not to work if it has dried out) for free and the hope that maybe we could get our tank to work if we just switched the cauchito. The first thing we did when we got home was swap the old cauchito for the new one and cross our fingers as we turned on the stove…nothing. Day four of our gas adventure closed with us sin gas, again. Our one depleted tank is quickly approaching empty as it has been doing the work of what two tanks had been doing previously. This double duty greatly increases the likelihood of cold showers or no showers in the days to come. And may I stress that cold showers here are not chilly or cool they are like liquid ice running all over you sucking every trace of warmth from your body until you turn off the water and you are left shivering, miserable, and very near some sort of diagnosable hypothermia. Muy mala suerte.

Thursday morning we waited again in the morning for several hours before Mike left for work and I for Cuenca for my first day at the Cruz Roja. Still no gas truck. However, as Mike was leaving the Cajas office in the afternoon, which is located several miles up the road from Sayausi, he saw the gas truck go zipping by headed for town. Unable to get his attention from the office, Mike left work early and returned to Sayausi where he proceeded to wait on the main street of Sayausi for an hour in hopes of catching the gas truck. And after an hour his hopes were answered. Mike began to wave his arms and call to the driver of the gas truck that was slowly driving down the road. The driver looked at Mike and held his gaze as he drove calmly by without pause. Needless to say this event was a tad frustrating and increased the feelings of mala suerte that we were already having about the entire situation.

Friday morning we wait again…no gas truck, though we do run to the window every time we hear a beep…a lot of beeps and running but still no gas truck.

This brings us to this morning a full week after we ran out of gas and five days of trying to find a truck that supposedly passes by our apartment every morning to replace a faulty tank we got from the guy the one day he actually came. So again we wait down stairs, this time from six until nine o’clock when we finally decided to go back upstairs and think of some other way to get a gas tank.

A few hours later Mike happens to be looking out the window when a pickup truck loaded up with gas tanks goes cruising by without a single beep! Needless to say, Mike went flying out the door in pursuit of this phantom truck.

A few minutes later he returned with the truck following shortly after. We exchanged both tanks, verified that they both worked, and asked the driver what days he passes through.

“We pass through every day in the mornings honking our horn.”

Mala suerte o mala informacion…tu decides.

Well, so we now have two full, functioning tanks of gas which means unlimited hot water for showers and dishes and plenty of gas for cooking delicious meals and hot tea. Buena suerte, right? However, for the past ten hours there hasn’t been a drop of water leaving the faucets of Sayausi, including those in our apartment. Not so bad for us, this sometimes happens on the weekends and we’re kind of used to it but tomorrow a trainee from the new group of Peace Corps volunteers is arriving and going to be staying with us for a few days…looks like mala suerte for him.



As always double-click to enlarge the photos and to see the captions!