Lies the cat told me

Waiting to get on the big boat

“Whew, what is that smell?” my human said, as she waved her hand in front of her face, and rapidly lowering the car window.  She turned to look accusingly at me. “Sparky, was that you?”

I confess.  It was me.  I accidentally let out a little gas.  We are going someplace called Cancun.   It’s my first time leaving Isla Mujeres, and Thomas (he’s my much older feline roommate) said that when dogs go to Cancun, they don’t come back – ever!  That’s why I’m so scared, and why I farted.  Thomas knows a lot more about traveling than I do.  He has lived in two countries, and he has been on airplanes several times, so I believe him. 

That big red and white thing is the boat 

My two humans – I call one Driver, and the other one Servant – and I are waiting at the car ferry terminal on Isla for a big boat to take us to Cancun.  I have seen this boat leaving and arriving many times when we are out and about on the island, but I have never been on it.  Big Adventure Day for me!

Eventually the boat arrives, and all the trucks and cars are jammed on board.  There are so many vehicles we can’t open the doors on the car, and I can’t explore the boat.  What seems like a really long time, only forty-five minutes in human time, we arrived in Punta Sam and drive towards Cancun. 

I'm a bit scared - and have a nervous tummy

My goodness, I have never seen so many cars, trucks, motorcycles, people, cats and dogs in one place.  Big buses whiz past, really close to our little Mini Cooper car.  Vehicles change lanes, buzzing in and around each other.  A few horns honk.   The noise and smells are overwhelming for my sensitive ears and nose.  I started trembling, but Servant turned around and gave me a reassuring pat.  “It’s okay, Sparky, nothing to be afraid of,” she said. 

A few minutes later, we stopped on Kabah Avenue in front of a building that said Centro de Especialidades Veterinarias.  

Oh, oh.  That can’t be good.  Thomas also warned me about going to the veterinary, or as he calls them, Cat-Doctors.  He said they do terrible things to animals.  I wish Thomas hadn’t told me all these bad stories.  I accidentally farted again as we went into the building. 

This big cat lives at the Cat- Doctors' place

Inside there was a huge fluffy cat that looked a bit like Thomas.  He didn’t seem to be worried that he lived in the Cat-Doctors’ building.  Still, I was well behaved just in case.  The two Cat-Doctors took weird see-through photos of my back, legs, and pelvis because when I am tired I run on three legs.  I was hit by a car a few years ago, before I adopted Driver and Servant, and my back right leg doesn’t work as well as the other ones.  The Cat-Doctors agreed that my joints looked okay, but my muscles on the right side needed strengthening – they prescribed less running and more swimming.  Swimming is okay, but I love to run!  I’m not sure I agree with their treatment.  We’ll see.

Christmas flowers at Home Depot store

Fortunately for me the Cat-Doctors let me leave without doing nasty things to me.  So far all the bad stories Thomas told me about Cancun have been big fat fibs.  I think he was trying to scare me.  Our next stop was at Home Depot where Servant and I waited outside in the shade and Driver went inside to buy a few things for our house on Isla Mujeres.  Servant was amused to see Poinsettia flowers and Canadian fir trees being delivered in early November to a store in Mexico.   Something about it was ‘way too early, or something like that.  Personally I don’t think it is ever too early to have a tree.  Every house should have a Christmas tree, all year around, for the dog to pee on.

Hardly any room left for me in the back seat

After Home Depot, we drove to an even bigger store, Costco, where Driver and I waited in the shade while Servant did the shopping.  I guess I’m not allowed inside the stores, so one person stays with me while the other one does the chores.  I’m okay with that.  I get lots of attention.

One last stop at Mega, next door to Costco, to stock up on Thomas’s favourite cat food flavours.  By now the trunk is full and more packages are stacked up around me in the back seat.  We have the top down on the car because I look so very cool, hip, with it, in a convertible.  I really like Driver’s choice of cars.

This is living - riding in a convertible

Finally we are headed back to Punta Sam, my ears are flying in the cooling breeze and I am looking forward to getting home.  

But, not yet.  We have to wait until the boat arrives for the three o’clock sailing.  I stretched out in the shade, keeping a sharp eye out for the gang of dogs that live at the ferry terminal. 

When the boat arrived and unloaded a man drove his big truck - the one my humans call the poo-sucker – on board and he emptied the holding tanks.  Then, at last thirty minutes late, we are allowed to board the boat.   We still can’t get out of the car, but I’m too tired to care anymore.  I collapsed on the back seat in amongst the parcels and tried to snooze while we headed back to Isla Mujeres.

Waiting at Punta Sam for the ferry boat

Arriving safe and sound back home the first thing I did was to tell Thomas he was wrong about dogs never coming back if they go to Cancun.  

He just flicked his bushy tail at me and smirked.  “Got ya!”  

Sometimes living with a know-it-all cat can be so frustrating. 

Anyway, it was a big adventure for me! 

Cheers from paradise,

Sparky  aka The Sparkinator!

The boat docking at Punta Sam

I hope you enjoyed my post.  If you did please feel free to share it with your friends and family.  

Trouble in Paradise

Paradise - 99% of the time!

Arrggh!  There are a few, rare, occasions that living in a foreign country, in a foreign culture and not being fluent in the local language can make us crazy with frustration.

We seldom “bitch” about anything in this blog, preferring instead to keep it upbeat and positive, but this week Home Depot Cancun pushed all of our buttons; the Frustrated Button, the Annoyed Button, and the dreaded Crabby Button.

We have four ceiling fans in our house, one in each bedroom, and two on the downstairs floor that have been working just fine for the last seven years but were getting to the end of their usefulness. Rust, corrosion, and squeaky motors: it was time to replace them all.

The store we love to hate.

Lawrie and I went into Cancun to Home Depot and purchased four matching Hampton Bay fans – made in China and sold exclusively by Home Depot and not available anywhere else. 

The fans were a decent price, dark brown fake palm leaf-shaped blades, exterior quality so they should last for quite awhile, well, until at least one week before ten-year warranty expires that is.

When we got back to the island we called Patricio, our friend who built our home seven years ago, asking him if his electricians could install the fans. Jose, Benito, and a new trainee Juan were at our house within a few minutes. Within an hour or so the guys had all four fans installed, but only three worked.  Jose tested all the circuits and connections still nothing happening with the fourth fan. I said no worries, just take it down and put it back in the box. I'll return it to Home Depot tomorrow.

Three fans installed and working just great.

Jose grinned at me, said something to the other guys making them laugh aloud. He went on to say in Spanish something about Lawrie should have lunch, go to a movie, and doing a bit of shopping while I waited at Home Depot. 

I nodded and laughed in that polite not-quite-understanding-way that everyone uses now and again when you have absolutely no idea what the other person saying.

The following day we headed back to Cancun to exchange the fan. 



Got the original receipt? Check. Fan and all the original parts? Check. Original box? Check. Okay, good to go. We will just pop in and exchange it for an identical one. Easy.

At the Home Depot return counter we explained in Spanglish that the fan was not operating, and we would like to exchange it for a new one. Lawrie went ahead into the store to make sure they had more in stock. He loaded one into a cart and returned to wait patiently with me at the returns counter.

Hanging out at the returns counter - waiting, waiting.

The first clerk looked at the receipt, then she looked at me, looked at the box and re-checked the receipt and huffed indignantly. She took all the parts out of the box to look at them. Well, I was impressed. She must have had the parts list memorized. 

She could tell just by poking and prodding at the various little bags that we hadn't secretly held back any of the parts; that we didn't keep any of the 16 pieces of part AA Blade attachment hardware, or the 3 of part BB wire connecting nuts, or the 5 of part G Blade bracket screws, or the 1 EE a balancing kit, or even the 1 HH pull chain. What an amazing memory she must have.

Another clerk was paged and everyone repeated the process; look at us, the receipt, the box, poke at the parts, and look at us again. Nothing had been said up to this point by any of the staff members. 

The parts list

We are now feeling vaguely sleazy. We were certain the staff thought that we had somehow managed to steal this fan out from under the noses of the cashiers and security guards. 

These are the same security guards who are located ten feet from the cashiers, and consistently check every bag, box and item before stamping the receipt and allowing the customer to exit the store.


We are still waiting at the returns desk and a third clerk is paged. Same routine. Still no one is saying anything. We are now hitting the thirty-minute mark. I asked if there was a problem. No answer, instead a fourth clerk is called via a portable radio. He explains that since I had already been back to the store to return a fan I must have another receipt, that the one I had presented to them was incorrect.

Really? We purchased the fans two days previously. We live on Isla Mujeres. We have not been back to Cancun, or Home Depot to exchange any fans until today. This is the original receipt. All we want to do is exchange one non-working fan for a hopefully working fan. (Can you tell, my Crabby Button has just been pushed?)

The four clerks exchange knowing glances: “Whoa, Crabby Person! Better call in the big boss.” The department head is paged. He tests the motor to be sure that we aren't lying. It will work - if he pushes it with his fingers - but will not start on its own. No problem. He nods, and tells them to go ahead and do the exchange. He then repackages the defunct item and places it back on the shelf with the other fans that are for sale. Problem solved.

Headed home to Isla

At five minutes short of an hour we exit Home Depot with our replacement ceiling fan. Back home on Isla, I sent a text to Jose, and he was there within minutes to install it. 

That's when we read the 10-year warranty fine print: the warranty document must be stamped and signed at the time of purchase at the store where the product was sold. 

Are you kidding me? We were supposed to open the box at the store, read the warranty document, get it stamped and signed before we left the store! 

Double Arrggh!

Therapy! 

And just to be clear, Home Depot Cancun is not the only store that teaches their staff to provide poor customer service. 

It is very common. We marvel at our Mexican friends who nonchalantly accept indifferent treatment boarding on rudeness. 

They just shrug their shoulders and laugh: It's Mexico.



So, we take a deep breath, pour a glass of wine and sit on our ocean side patio. 
This is the real reason we live in Mexico. We enjoy the climate, we enjoy our island and our waterfront casa, and we truly do enjoy the Mexican culture – most of the time.

Paradise!

Oh, and did we mention the new fan squeaks like a rat caught in a trap? Sigh, looks like we will be visiting our “favourite” store again: Home Depot in Cancun.

Arrggh!


Hasta Luego

Lynda & Lawrie




A few days later .....

Success! Paradise Reclaimed!

We have another replacement Hampton Bay ceiling fan from Home Depot and so far, fingers-crossed, it is behaving beautifully.

And how did this miraculous event happen you ask? Well I went on the internet http://www.homedepot.com/c/Contact_Us and registered my complaint in a much shorter version than the blog article, and left out most of the drama and the Arrgghs! (It wasn't nearly as much fun to write.)

1. The first response was a email acknowledging my complaint:
Shirley A. Mitchell
Resolution Expediter
Customer Care Email Team
The Home Depot - Store Support Center-
2455 Paces Ferry Road / B-3
Atlanta, GA 30339
Phone: (770) 433-8211 or 1-800-654-0688, Ext. 77341
Fax: (678) 556-7614


2. The second response was a follow-up email from Ms. Karen Cortés letting me know that since the complaint originated at a Mexican store she would assist us with any language problems we had:
Karen Cortés
Resolution Expediter
2455 Paces Ferry Road
Atlanta, GA 30339
Phone: 770-433-8211 or 1-800-654-0688 Ext: 77519
Fax: 678-556-7614

3. The third response was a phone call and a very nice email, in English, from the General Manager of Home Depot Cancun, Seňor Juan Espinosa Silva.Seňor Silva arranged to meet with us on Monday September 1^st to exchange the defective squeaky fan. We, of course, had optimistically tossed out all the packaging when we got the first replacement fan, thinking “oh boy, this one will work just fine.”

He said, “don't worry, just bring the fan and the receipt and we will replace it.”

I also asked about 10-year warranty fine print: the warranty document must be stamped and signed at the time of purchase at the store where the product was sold. Seňor Silva advised us to just keep a photo copy of the original purchase receipt with the warranty documents.

When we entered the store, one of the clerks recognized me, smiled and greeted me by name. Oh, rats. I guess I made a really big impression on him last week when I did my Crabby Person rant at him. Rafa was very kind, and accommodating, taking another fan out of stock, un-boxing it, testing it, and re-boxing it.

So it looks like we have the problem solved, and so very much quicker than we anticipated.

Thank you to everyone at Home Depot.

Cheers

Lynda & Lawrie