The saga began yesterday, reporting a noisy phone line to Telkom, our monolithic landline monopoly here in the former apartheid Republic. Rose was asked, "are you aware madam that we now charge R512 (that's about USD 80) if we come and there is nothing wrong?". So the Telkom people call us back and hear for themselves that we do indeed have a noisy line, and declare they will be there in the morning.
Fast forward to this morning and there is this fool in a Telkom vehicle hooting at the gate I have left wide open so he can drive in and politely ring my doorbell. However, I think Doorbell 101 is a missing course in Telkom Repair Training university. I run out but he drives away, I run in and call the number, they apologise and say they will send him right back. He drives back and as I direct him towards my driveway, he ignores me and passes by, turning ito a neighbours house. Who hasn't called Telkom, whose phones work fine, but Comrade Telkom declares he is on a routine line inspection and drives in there. I run back home call the number again, and get another apology. They will tell him to stop playing silly comrades and get on over to fix my noisy phone. I wait by the gate, He reverses, drives slowly past me, ignores my directions, and heads off an easterly direction. That man will go far.
So by now, I am late for everything, grab my things, walk round to my office (a whole 200 meters) and call that number again. They are beside themselves with angst ... well not really, they ho-hummed the whole thing, and promised they would jump right on it ... but refused to tell me who that rude comrade repairman was - as if I would make trouble for his long term future!
About 11am a polite young Telkom fella whose name was actually Oupa (Afrikaans for Grandad), rocks up at the office, looking for me and wanting to fix my ... PBX. "Nope, it's a private line into a home" I declare wistfully, and frankly that confused the poor man.
But Oupa regained his compusure, quickly grasped the reality that the ladies on the other end of that phone number were mostly one sandwich short of a picnic, made a call himself, took
charge, sorted it out, and left promising me he would get the 'home phone people' to attend to my problem ASAP.Cool! At about 3.30PM they rang, I walked home to find the man you see climbing up a pole in the photo, waiting by my front door. He was very pleasant. Worked for Telkom for 22 years he said ... old school... happy to please. I even offered him some tea (prepared to part with some of my precious Tanganda Teabags), but his work ethic made him decline. I helped him a little, we talked about my dogs, he even apologised for the problems with his comrade in arms from the morning ... a nameless comrade because nobody at Telkom is willing to tell me who that silly nit was!
Our phone works now, the line to the house from the pole has been secured, and once again the rat that walks that wire from the pecan tree to the roof will keep us amused from time to time. Viva affirmative action, viva.
1 comment:
Mate in Oz, we have possums. They use the telephone and leccy wires as train tracks. Safer than braving the dogs on the ground! Every now and again one of them carefully steps onto the transformer posts on the pole, and there is a flash, a bang and leccy dimms for a while. In the morning we find a fried possum on the nature strip.
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