Powerless

When I came home Wednesday evening, I had a note addressed to the previous tenant of my apartment in my mail box.  It said that power had been turned off because the bill had not been paid. I thought this better not be true, but when I came upstairs into the apartment it looked like this:

A few weeks ago I had signed a contract with Airtricity, one of the power and gas providers available. The company who actually owns the wires and sends out electricians to turn power on and off is ESB Networks, the former government owned provider. Until this Wednesday I thought it was cool to have multiple providers and was going to blog about how much better Ireland is where I can choose among multiple companies to deliver broadband (there are at least four), gas (two), electricity (two or three), phone (a bunch), etc. The hardest part seemed to be to figure out who delivered what. Vodafone, and maybe Eircom, seem straightforward enough, but what do O2, Sky, Bord Gais, ESB, and UPC deliver? It turns out that, as with Airtricity, in many cases they give you more than one thing: electricity and gas, phone and broadband, TV and broadband, etc.

The Airtricity sales guy proudly told me that they could provide cheaper service than ESB, which owns the wires, because Ireland has abolished state-run monopolies. When I called him Wednesday night from my dark apartment, he sounded less reassuring and said he would sort it out in the morning with the land lord and ESB. (The Irish are always "sorting things out".)
I had come home early to get some exercise done and then continue work, so I needed power. I called the number on the disconnection notice. I told the guy that I am the new tenant and that this was a mistake. He told me that all I had to do was to fax them a copy of the contract and they would determine whether I was lying or not; and then sort it out. (He wasn't quite accusing me to be a lier, but came close.)

The land lord needed a copy of the disconnection notice, while I was at the convention center. I love smart phones ;-)

Never mind that I don't have a fax machine, I reminded him that I had no electricity. He helpfully told me that post offices provide that service. Since it was long after any post office had been open, he told me, after prompting, that some off-license stores (stores that sell alcohol to go; I already knew about those ;-) also have faxes. I knew this was pointless, but I offered brightly to get that done right away and asked at what time later tonight I might expect to have power restored. Of course the answer was definitely not tonight, the electrician has gone home, and no promises about tomorrow either.
I left a few more angry messages with various people, unhooked the front lights on my bike, and went to bed reading a book by the glow of my bicycle LEDs. In the morning I had to get up and go to city center to the convention center where IBM was hosting an internal, all-day event. I had to sneak out and use break time to call ESB, Airtricity, my land lord, the sales guy, and fax in my contract.

The tilted cylinder behind the lamp post is Dublin's convention center.

 

Airtricity called back and said they could not accept the contract. I had to sign a new contract. And pay a reconnection fee.
I told her I did not understand. The contract said Airtricity on it. The sales guy's business card said Airtricity on it. I was talking to an Airtricity representative. What exactly about my contract could they not accept? And, if there was no previous contract, why was there a RE-connection fee?
Back to the sales guy and fill his voice mail box with a number of urgent calls. He was sitting with the land lord at the apartment complex, on the phone with Airtricity and ESB. He says I should have power tonight when I get home. The land lord says I will have power when I get home tonight. Sharon, the customer service rep says it usually takes 24 to 48 hours; and there is a reconnection fee. I go ballistic on her and she connects me with her boss.
I can live two evenings in a row without electricity, but I know that if I don't have power back up on Friday, it wont happen until the middle of next week. This is Ireland after all. Her boss starts talking to me about a new contract and a reconnection fee. And I tell him that the world will end, if I don't have power today.
Back at the workshop I explain to my colleagues from work my three-pronged strategy: Give the supplier, the sales guy, and my land lord hell. Keep calling them (I spent 30 Euros on Thursday out of my prepay plan) and assure them that later at night from the darkness of my apartment there will not be much else to do for me other than to keep them awake. Make sure each individually thinks they are the sole source of my misery.
The last session at the workshop is a motivational speaker. He was good and used a scale from 0 to 10 to measure how you feel emotionally at various times of the day and throughout your life. He said 2 was when you feel miserable, but not quite bad enough to not enjoy telling other people how bad you felt. That was me all day Thursday. I don't usually tell people off in a very serious voice (I think), but Thursday I cleared my system.
Of course, when I came home, there was still no power. When there is no power here, nothing works. Water pressure comes from an electric pump. Without it, it takes several minutes to fill a glass of water. The water is heated with gas, but that doesn't turn on without the electric thermostat working. The gas stove has an electric blower that needs to be on...

Keith, the manager guy told me that I had to be reachable by phone and near the apartment, when the electrician would come by to reconnect me on Friday. My cell phone that hasn't been charged in a while and had been used a lot lately, was near empty. Keith said, if I miss the call that was it; there would be only one attempt to reach me and reconnect power. I knelt on his chest (figuratively) and told him that things can go wrong (I frequently miss calls because I do something wrong with my phone or don't hear it) but I needed him to assure me that power would be back Friday. He said: be there.
Friday morning, eating breakfast, wishing for electricity for my Nespresso machine, my phone beeps. 29 cents of credit left, and I should "top up" soon. I even get four Euros for free, if I do it right now at vodafone.ie! There must be a way to do it over the phone. There is, if you set it up beforehand at vodafone.ie! This is the first time where actual panic begins to set in. I'm beginning to slide along my scale from 2 towards that 0. Then the phone rings and it is the electrician. Of course, I only understand every fifth word or so: "Rolf", "Parnell", "Electr&@#$", "Home", "10". Yes, I'm here, thank you, please, thank you, and I hope my phone lasts long enough. Turns out, incoming calls are free!

It all requires electricity.

Huge guy shows up, shoves a big fuse into the distributor station downstairs, tells me I'm the second Swiss he met this week, and takes off. Why exactly I had to be here for that, I'm not sure. Him or his friend, were able to disconnect me the other day just fine; without me.

The lights are back on.

On the way to work I made sure the land lord saw me throw away a big bag of rotten food from my fridge and freezer. (Most of the bag was full with stuff that had accumulated anyway. My fridge seldom holds more than some butter, milk, and a few yogurts.) But I don't think he is entirely faultless in this fiasco. Since the electricity company could not get a hold of the previous renters, they waned him to pay the 45 Euros that were outstanding. He says that is not his duty, and he never saw the notices sent to the previous tenant anyway. Right.

Each outlet in Ireland has a separate on/off switch.