I sometimes wonder why I don’t do more homeowner projects, and today witnessed with awe the efficiency with which a highly-recommended plumber (not this one) repaired one of the results of my hanging some plastic gutter (a gift) and downspout to restrict growth of wet stuff on a wall near the barbacoa. (Note how well it worked: not.)
In drilling holes for the “Tacos Fischer,” the local name for plastic wall anchors, I managed to discover the hot water pipe for the barbacoa (which was a parillera before we enclosed it). To clarify: 1) a parillera (open) or barbacoa (closed) is where you gather with family on Sundays to eat meat meat meat, slowly slowly cooked over coals. Unless you don’t have family here, in which case you make it into a sort-of workshop; 2) discovering a hot water pipe does not constitute a happy result of trying to anchor screws in walls.
The plumber worked with surprising efficiency. Instead of tink-tink-tink with a hammer and chisel, he brought a mini-jackhammer that pulverized the wall in seconds to expose …
… not just the plastic water pipes (you can see the hole), but — see that orange a few centimeters above? That’s the electrical feed to the barbacoa. 220 volts. Ouch.
OK, I maybe be clumsy. But I’m lucky.
The whole repair — plumber and his son, and equal amount of time spent inside cleaning and rebuilding a valve that fed this line — cost UYP 600, or a bit over USD 25.
And, so typical here, they’re gentle and pleasant people, concluding the transaction with a handshake.
Okay, we definitely want the name and phone number for this plumber. It is only a matter of time before we will need him.
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