In the past two weeks, we have suffered two power cuts at home, at a weekend, been without gas, and therefore without heat, for two days and had the power cut to the building where my office is located. On each occasion the power cut out at about 10 am, leaving us not only without light but without phone, internet, heating and even water. We have no mains water supply; we have a well in our garden which is connected to an electric water pump. Just why there is no mains water supply to a growing residential suburb is a mystery known only to the water company – and perhaps the town hall.
We did wonder whether some random pedestrian passing the end of our road where the power junction box is fixed to a ramshackle fence had decided to trip the switch for fun. This box is a lightweight, rusting metal casing with no padlock, no protection at all in fact; any troublemaker would find it easy enough to open the door and flick the switch. How this is considered a safe and normal way to proceed is a mystery known only to the electricity company.
The gas was cut off for a day because they were working somewhere in the district. They did at least give us advance warning (by advance, I mean on the morning itself). When it didn’t come on again in the evening, we assumed, unfairly as it happens, that they had forgotten to turn it on again when they went home. The real reason is more bizarre. When the gas engineer eventually turned up at 6 p.m. the following day, after more than half a doxen telephone calls to the emergency number (it was below zero outside), he explained that the gas cut out because of air pockets caused by people illegally syphoning gas away from the mains. Just how they actually gain access to these pipes is – yes, a mystery, known only to the gas company – and the gas thieves. But it may have something to do with the fact that the gas company seems to think it’s perfectly normal to leave gas pipes exposed on the outer wall of buildings rather than conceal them underground or within the walls. The engineer’s solution was very scary: he unscrewed the gas meter from the gas pipe that runs up the wall outside our study, listened carefully until he could hear the gas whooshing out, and then jammed the meter back on again, carefully avoiding any friction which could have caused a spark and blown the whole street up. Fortunately, and unusually, there was no-one smoking within several hundred metres. This poor man had been following the same procedure at several other houses in the area. Whatever he’s paid, it isn’t enough.
These are not rare occurences. There are frequent power outages and gas works going on in the newly developed residential areas, chiefly because the basic infrastructure wasn’t put in place before construction started. I suppose we get hit at weekends because power usage increases when everyone is at home. But one would expect the power companies to anticipate that, no? And perhaps cutting the gas when there’s a freeze on is not the wisest course of action.
We have similar problems with our cable TV/internet service which seems to cut out for no apparent reason. Nor has the internet company been able to explain it on the rare occasion that someone in customer service is prepared to take your call. But the way the cable connection is buried in a pothole at the end of a road, protected by two large flat stones, might have something to do with it. As the cable controls the phone lines it’s difficult to call for help. Perhaps it’s all a conspiracy to prevent irate customers from calling the power companies. Though I have yet to meet anyone in this country who does not have a mobile phone. Now you know why.
Where is it I live again? In a developing country in the middle of Africa? In a remote rural village in the mountains? On a desert island in a Survivor reality show? Or in the capital city of a European Union country? And the most distressing fact of all: all these companies who provide such appalling service to their customers, yet charge them handsomely for the privilege, are foreign-owned and foreign-managed. I wonder whether customers in France, Italy or the US would accept these shortcomings with as much patience and resignation as the long-suffering Romanians. They deserve the same high standards of management and customer service that customers expect in the West. But before they can complain, these companies need to develop an adequate customer complaints procedure. So how about it, guys? A bit of service, please.
