A few weeks ago our next door neighbors came knocking on our door.  There has been water leaking from our yard into theirs under the wall — and it smells bad!  A call to the landlady, and a few days later, we had major septic tank repairs going on in our yard!             

The first day, Wednesday, a couple of workers came to dig up the septic tank.  It was covered with dirt and cement which was originally meant to be a car port, but we hang our clothes lines there.             

Day 2, Thursday, the truck arrived to pump out the contents of the tank – 3 tanks actually.  You’re glad photos do not communicate the odor we experienced!  The owner of the company was present, dressed in a nice suit, with surgical mask on as protection from noxious fumes.  He gave me great confidence in his team, giving such references as the U.S. Embassy and one of the Wycliffe buildings nearby.  He listed off about 4 different things that were wrong with our septic system, and assured me that once his team had finished pumping, the rest of the job would only take 2 days.           

Day 3, Friday, the landlady went out to buy supplies to complete the work, which took all morning.  Meanwhile, the workers were here waiting for her.  She arrived in the afternoon with cement, sand, pipe and rebar so they can fix the septic tank the way it should have been constructed in the first place.  The work began while she watched; much heated discussion ensued – in a language I don’t understand.  It was decided that it’s too late in the day to begin the work.  They’ll “be back tomorrow.”            

Day 4, Saturday, we asked our guard to come work overtime to be there while the workers are there… no workers showed up.  There the supplies sat, waiting.  

Day 5, Sunday, when we asked they NOT come, workers showed up and began the repairs to the septic system and tanks.  

 Day 6, Monday, would be a great day to finish the job, but again no workers showed up.  They said the cement needed to dry.  Meanwhile, washing and drying clothes in this work zone was a challenge!          

Day 7, Tuesday, while I was teaching kindergarten, the workers and landlady arrived.  By the time I got home, the landlady had left, apparently after much heated discussion again.  The workers told me they’re done and ready to be paid (with money the landlady had left for me to give them when the work is completed to my satisfaction).  I called them to the back of the house to look over their work.  After discussion between me and workers it was evident neither I nor they were satisfied with the work.  Apparently landlady had run out of funds to provide adequate quantities of supplies.  So I asked the workers, “what do you need to get the job done well?”  They calculated, I gave them money, they left.  So I began to worry: “Have I just been taken?”  I just gave them twice as much as I was to pay them.  They could leave with the money and never finish the job.    Trust.  It’s a risk I’m willing to make.           

To my relief, they did return with a taxi full of sand and cement!           

After we’d looked over the final job, and all were happy, I paid them the remainder of their due for this job.  Then one of the men reminded me that we’d looked over plumbing in the bathroom that had perhaps been affected, and he offered to go get parts in order to fix those problems with the sink drain and toilet.Trusting again, I gave him about $20.  This time my trust was not merited.   

 Day 8 we cannot use the bathroom sink since our “friend” removed the drain pipe and didn’t come back to fix it, toilet wasn’t flush properly, and the faucet in the kitchen sink was leaking.  And since they’d left the yard a bit messy, Emmanuel, our day guard, started to clean up, spreading the extra dirt around the yard (under the grass), and throwing all the old cement slabs in a truck for Ron to take to RFIS and make into gravel for future construction needs.

Day 9 Thanksgiving Day.  Still no workers.  Landlady arrived in the midst of our preparations for the evening’s feast.  Told her that I’d given them money to complete the job.  Told her the plumber took $20 (10,000 cfa) to buy parts for indoor plumbing, and hadn’t returned.  Apparently he took our money and went to his village.  She ranted and raved about not liking to work with people who do  not know Jesus (none of us asked why she’d hired them).  And she left muttering something about having the guy locked up.

By this time Ron was home from school early (because it’s Thanksgiving).  He tried to call a real plumber, Polycarp, a Cameroonian who had done work in our house before and is a trusted professional in the missionary community.  But Polycarp’s number is changed, so we sent Emmanuel off in a taxi to find him and bring him over.

So, within the hour he was at our house, working on both bathrooms, and while I mixed the gravy, he was in the kitchen with me.  Oh, and of course he had to turn off the water, so that made last minute preparations interesting.  But I was thankful to finally have ALL the work done, faucets that don’t leak, a drain that doesn’t leak, and toilets that flush properly.  And our neighbors are not getting smelly drainage in their yard anymore.  And that’s a lot to be thankful for.