I like our local church. I don’t know what denomination it is, nor do I care. I also like that there are not many more. Just as I liked Pátzcuaro, Michoacán, for the fact that it had no cathedral in the main square, extremely rare in Mexico.
Category: Atlántida
Soccer field grass cutting
Further road destruction
The very next day, even further destruction from the detoured buses.
Road repair and destruction
What do you get when you divert buses in order to repair the road they’ve destroyed?
Different destroyed roads.
“If at first you don’t succeed” redux
Ah yes, has only been a few days since I posted about an obvious bit of bad planning.
Looking back toward where I took that picture, you can see that it subsequently occurred to someone to make a clean-out access.
My “redux” refers to another 7-day wonder a few blocks up. See here and here.
*Sigh.* At least they tried to fix it.
Battery recycling
At Tienda Inglesa, amidst potted plants, posters and banners, motorcycles, video rentals (?), and even lurking dinosaurs, there exists a place to recycle batteries (pilas). Who knew?
Another engineering FAIL
Beyond the corner, the builders buried about 50 meters of culvert, inaccessible except from either end, eliminating the drainage ditch. I could have told them this was a bad idea. A few days later, I didn’t need to. Simply demonstrates that the private sector can match the incompetence of the public sector.
Curupay
I always enjoy looking at this house. In five years, I’ve seen people in it only a few times. Curupay, the name, presumably refers to the wood of the column (which needs some maintenance).
Sensibly, they’re not using it as firewood.
Trash containers, over time
It has been 2-1/2 year since the trash containers appeared. And less than two years since the one on our corner was burned to the ground (for the first time).
The spray paint on this one has mostly disappeared, showing the UV protection it offered the otherwise now-faded plastic.
I don’t know if this resulted from rough handling or solar ultraviolet. Probably a combo. It’s not the only one, by a long shot.
Hot water restored to the barbacoa we don’t use!
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.