Curaçao is full of sunny days but some of those are just simply too heated!
Most of the delicate things I have practically every week to solve are on my Monday's list. Since I live on the island I believe for an unknown reason that Monday is the best day for solving a problem. Perhaps this logic came to me by seeing each Monday the neighboring parking lot, belonging to a doctor's practice, filled with cars and droves of people as there would be a never ending party going on.
But some of those Mondays are almost too heated to keep on going through the week. Sure enough the first thing happening last Monday morning will fill up much of my time on upcoming Mondays! Living on a heavily trafficked road I am used to wait until allowing myself to enter the road. Never ever do I force my way into the traffic. So I waited as usual a long time until one of those rather rare gentle souls waved from the other lane leaving a gap for me open. After looking left and right and left again, I drove in. Reaching the middle of the road I see a car coming like a rocket and I swear it wasn't on the horizon as I entered the road. In horror, I saw it coming closer and closer why in God's name doesn't it stop? It seemed almost as it wanted to hit me deliberately, finally it crashed into my fender. “She was running the red light!” screamed my passenger angrily. The single brake line was almost twenty meters long. Anyway, half of my Monday was gone as I backed up my car into my driveway. Luckily it was still driving. The crashed car too but it looked like it must have been involved in other accidents. Its appearance was as it would have posed as a target on a military shooting range for some years. So how does one prove that someone was running the red light?
Having no quick answer to this, I decided not to drive to Selikor rather phoning them instead. Some days before Christmas someone has smashed his car into our garbage bin reducing it to several small pieces and also damaging our wall. This driver left some parts of the side window and the head lights together with several other plastic parts but regrettably no number plate. I didn't dare to bother Selikor with that problem during the holiday season. Beginning of January, I reported the regrettable loss of our garbage bin to a friendly looking lady. She was listening very concentrated and advised, it will take about ten days before we get a new one. She noted our address and phone number carefully and that was it. My husband always offering a last moment of concern asked: “Is there anything we have to pay for?” Even friendlier than before she replied with a Sophia Loren smile: “No, it is on us!” We were really pleased for quite some time about her exceptionally polite and friendly service. Four weeks were passing by and our garbage bags piled up to a hill. Only then it dawned on us that once again we were taken as some fools. “I knew it”, my husband said, “she was just too friendly!” The employee answering the phone is clearly the opposite asking sharply: “Did you report the incident to the police?” And he is seemingly offended because I'm saying “our” garbage bin. “It's not yours..”, he is correcting me more than once, “it is ours, we own it!” I asked him why our plastic bags aren't taken weekly by the Selikor workers? “They don't have to pick it up. That's against the rules!”, he explains as he would be an employee of the union's head office. “But we pay each month for that”, I argue. He fires back: “You know what, you pay us absolutely nothing. The money you pay is a tax and you pay that to the government. Selikor's service is absolutely free for everyone on the island!” Hearing this I knew I had to drive again to Selikor to look for someone with more inside into the garbage business schedule. That is a visit for another Monday.
But one more thing was urgent. Namely, transferring one of our water meters onto another one's name. Meanwhile, it became afternoon and so I pushed it to the following morning. Clearly one has to visit Aqualectra for that. As I walked in there weren't really many people waiting. One was serving number 62 and I got number 71. After four hours of dedicated waiting time, it was finally my turn. But it all turned out tragic for me again. The Aqualectra employee, a lady which can point me out under at least one thousand others, says to me as I hand over my passport for the purpose of identification: “We don't take no passport anymore for ID.” “How do you mean?” I am asking concerned. “When you live here you can't come with the passport”, she is lecturing. “What do you think a local passport is for what purpose?”, I ask back. She looks at me by biting her lips. “I travel with this passport around the world and it is accepted simply anywhere.”, I try to explain to her insisting that this is the identification paper of my choice and push it back to her under the thick glass. “No, I can't take it. If you don't live here I cannot take it!” “This is a very discriminatory business style”, I explain to her wondering about it. Meanwhile, behind me, the security guard goes into position while I ask for the supervisor but she is on vacation. I see a tall guy hiding in the back tall enough to be a supervisor. The lady phones him, it's her boss she explains but he doesn't come out. But another lady comes yelling at me: “What's your problem?” She also refuses to take my Curaçao Passport which is, of course, a Dutch one for the purpose of identification. Finally, by telling them that all of them will for sure go straight to hell, I left the place. Having another task on my list for next Monday, namely, looking for an attorney to take this discriminatory issue to court. As said, I really love the sun but some of Curaçao's days are just simply too heated!
By Marry Simpson