The Saga Continues
Friday, 7 AM - Wake up from nap hearing the clickety sounds of pigeons on ceiling tiles.
8 AM - Call maintenance. I think I woke someone up. He hangs up on me.
10 AM - Call again. Attempt to make bird noises to express problem. Man on phone agrees to send someone.
11:10 AM - Call again. In the third cycle of the ring-back tone, an AirTel recording tells me nobody's home.
12:00 PM - Call again. Answer! I try English slowly and emphatically to someone who doesn't understand me. "OK, OK, m'am. "
12:35 Give up and go drop off laundry and get lunch.
2:48 - If at first you don't succeed...
2:49 - "The AirTel you have called is--busy. Please try your call later."
3:31 - Dialing...Answer! I use the phrase "like chicken. in ceiling." when asked what the problem is "OK, Madame. I will come." I say "bring ladder."
3:38 - The sweet sound of the doorbell!
The maintenance man shows up with a set of Allen wrenches and a screwdriver. I show him the problem. He laughs a little and tells me the word for pigeon is "belu" [Auntie Chai--do I have the correct word?]. I explain (in a sad, sad, I-am-American-and-could-not-find-Pimsleur-Kannada-CD's way) that the window is never open, the pigeons may be gone, but I heard them this morning, and maintenance guy #2 already caught them and put them out.
Maintenance guy #3 removes a couple of tiles--one of which has a ring of crap (literally) that was likely a nest at some point--and sees GREAT BIG GAPS around the pipe that Liz no doubt saw and I missed earlier this week, as did the other maintenance man. In fact, I think the other maintenance guy saw it and didn't want to deal with it.
He plugged the hole with some extra plastic bags we had here. No ladder. No mortar. He even refused my duct tape. He just climbed into the ceiling, bracing one foot on the bathroom window sill and another on a towel rack. I handed him the bags while he balanced. When he was done, he climbed down, scraped the shit off the ceiling tiles, swept up, and left.
Friday, 7 AM - Wake up from nap hearing the clickety sounds of pigeons on ceiling tiles.
8 AM - Call maintenance. I think I woke someone up. He hangs up on me.
10 AM - Call again. Attempt to make bird noises to express problem. Man on phone agrees to send someone.
11:10 AM - Call again. In the third cycle of the ring-back tone, an AirTel recording tells me nobody's home.
12:00 PM - Call again. Answer!
12:35 Give up and go drop off laundry and get lunch.
2:48 - If at first you don't succeed...
2:49 - "The AirTel you have called is--busy. Please try your call later."
3:31 - Dialing...Answer! I use the phrase "like chicken. in ceiling." when asked what the problem is "OK, Madame. I will come." I say "bring ladder."
3:38 - The sweet sound of the doorbell!
The maintenance man shows up with a set of Allen wrenches and a screwdriver. I show him the problem. He laughs a little and tells me the word for pigeon is "belu" [Auntie Chai--do I have the correct word?]. I explain (in a sad, sad, I-am-American-and-could-not-find-Pimsleur-Kannada-CD's way) that the window is never open, the pigeons may be gone, but I heard them this morning, and maintenance guy #2 already caught them and put them out.
Maintenance guy #3 removes a couple of tiles--one of which has a ring of crap (literally) that was likely a nest at some point--and sees GREAT BIG GAPS around the pipe that Liz no doubt saw and I missed earlier this week, as did the other maintenance man. In fact, I think the other maintenance guy saw it and didn't want to deal with it.
He plugged the hole with some extra plastic bags we had here. No ladder. No mortar. He even refused my duct tape. He just climbed into the ceiling, bracing one foot on the bathroom window sill and another on a towel rack. I handed him the bags while he balanced. When he was done, he climbed down, scraped the shit off the ceiling tiles, swept up, and left.
