the scam artists

Big Jim ventured into what is typically my culinary milieu last night and made chicken fajitas for dinner. They were excellent. We then had a long chat on the roof terrace trying to find some stars, but no such luck. Because we had such a rainy 9 months before the summer and quite a bit of moisture is still left in the soil, it has been unusually humid during the day and hazy at night. Big Jim has been frustrated about the used computer M.A. recently purchased. When they went to see it, it seemed to work fine. But now that B.J. has brought it here it install some software, it has proved to be temperamental, sometimes refusing to boot up at all, other times doing so without a problem. He has tried to contact the seller, but he's not returning the messages. I tell Big Jim it is possible the guy has gone away for the weekend, but in my gut I believe B.J.'s instincts are probably correct, that the guy is a bit of a scammer. If this is the case and if the guy doesn't cooperate, we'll have our friend J., who is an attorney, file a denuncia (a type of formal legal complaint, which seems to cover everything from assault to not tying up your garbarge bag properly) against the guy. We unfortunately have run into many expats with fishy backgrounds and suspect motives. The first property we rented was a disaster. The women who managed the house and rental units frankly was a bit of a drunk. Big Jim first realized there was a problem when he went by her house one morning to drop off a check for the electric bill. At 11 am, she asked if he wanted a drink; he declined, joking it was a bit early for him. She then opened a double-door kitchen cabinet that was lined with wine boxes; a solitary wine glass stood in the middle. When one of the rent payments went missing in an electronic banking transfer snafu, she left rambling accusatory messages on the answering machine that became more hostile as the hours passed and her condition became more inebriated. We were relieved when after 6 months, she decided to resign from the management position (and we hope checked into a rehab facility). Our contact now was the owner directly. He lived in Ireland, but we had met him briefly and he seemed a decent enough sort of guy. Turns out we were wrong again. :-( On one incredibly hot September Friday morning, a man in a Land Rover turned up from the townhall. Big Jim was running errands, so I was home alone. The man had a notice to shut off the water. I did not recognize the name to whom the letter was address: it wasn't ours, it wasn't the former manager's; and it wasn't the owners. For this reason, I told the man I thought he had the wrong house. He left but returned 45 minutes later. He told me and Big Jim, who had since returned, that this was indeed the correct address, and he had been instructed to turn off the water because the bill had not been paid for two years. Two years! His advice to us was to go to the townhall immediately and try to resolve the situation. I looked at my watch; it was 1:15. He added, "And you'll want to go straightaway because they usually lock up at 1:40 during the summer. I swear he chuckled as he loaded our water meter into the Rover. Big Jim and I dashed into town, running up the fittingly named Calle Rampa, to the ayuntamiento. The door was unlocked. I explained to the receptionist why we where there, and she replied, "Sorry, the man in charge of the water department has just left for a two-week holiday, and there is no one else to help in the meantime." We were screwed. Fortunately, the property had a large water deposito, which was full, so the situation was not immediately dire. Regardless, when we returned, we immediately began water conservation measures and put in a call to the owner. We heard nothing from him until the following week, and he claimed the bills had been paid from his bank account in Spain. He also told us the name on the letter was that of the previous owners; he never bothered to have the bill swiched into his name. The water level in the tank was still high, and we patted ourselves on the back for our cut-back efforts. A couple days later, I was working in my office when I heard the man who owned the avocado farm that bordered the house. He was with another farmer, cursing up a storm. Straining to hear their conversation, I realized he was angry because there was no water at the finca. The man from the townhall had turned off his water by mistake! Not only had our water not been turned off, because he had taken our meter, we had had used almost a week's worth of water for free. The next day, the water man returned, and now our water really was shut off. It would be another week before the man in charge would return from his vacation, so Big Jim and I doubled our conservation measures. When we finally were able to meet with him, we were horrified to find out more than 2000 euros was owed for the water. Not one payment had been made since the owner had purchased the property! Letters had been sent to the previous owners, but since they no longer had any ties to the property, they simply ignored them. After we had all the details, we again contacted R., the owner. His suggestion was that we pay the bill and then deduct the amount from our rent for the next couple of months. He also implied that we should cover the water bill for the time we had been living in the house, even though there was no mention of the water in our lease. We refused on both counts. If the amount owed had been a couple hundred euros, sure, we would have done as he had advised. But 2200 euros, no way! That was equal to almost two months' rent. And although we could empathize with him regarding his claim that the water should have been covered in our lease, we refused to budge. We had agreed via the lease to cover the electric and phone charges, but nowhere had we taken on the responsibility of the water cost. His claims that the bills had been paid were false, as confirmed by the bank manager. The invoices were put forward by the ayuntamiento, but R. never had sufficient funds in his account to cover the quarterly bills. Six weeks later, our water was finally reconnected, but only after we had to arrange for a plumber to come reattach the water meter. At least our conservation efforts were rewarded, and we never ran out of water. A few weeks later, Big Jim and I took a holiday to the US to celebrate Thanksgiving and visit many of our friends. When we returned in early December, we had another most unpleasant surprise: an electric bill for 990 euros and a notice that the service would be turned off December 23 if not paid immediately! The concerned us greatly because we had been paying the electric bill to the former manager and later to R; clearly they had not been forwarding our payments to the electric company sevillana endesa. We were doubly worried because we were having guests arrive for the Christmas holidays in two weeks. First we contacted the former manager. She insisted she had forwarded our payments to R. to send to the electric company. She had records of the transfers, so we focused our attention on the owner again. After the water debacle and now the problem with the electric bills not being paid, Big Jim and I also began looking for another place to rent. We had had enough. R. first denied not forwarding the payments, but after sevillana endesa sent us copies of the complete billing history, he conceded there might have been an "oversight" on his part. Not wishing another 6-week battle to resolve the problem, as well as risk having the electricity shut off during the holidays, Big Jim and I agreed to pay off the debt and deduct the amount from the next month's rent. Sorted, but by the end of the month, we had given our notice to R. that we would be moving out. Our landlord now, Pepe, is the dream landlord, attentive and considerate but not intrusive. We have only had one problem, and that involved a contractor we hired to install a new sink unit in the kitchen. The previous was ancient and built for someone much shorter than Big Jim or myself. Before we moved in, we gave a copy of the keys to L., a plumber recommended to us by a contractor friend of us, so that he could measure the space and put in the new sink. Several weeks passed, and there were no signs of work. One day, Big Jim arrived at the house early to meet the men delivering our new refrigerator. He found L. asleep on our recently purchased sofa. Long story short, his wife had kicked him out after being told he had impregnated not one but two local young women; he then was booted from the local hotel after failing to pay his bill; according to the neighbors, he had been squatting in our house for several days before Big Jim found him. It turned out he had done no work to order the sink unit, but one of B.J.'s tool kits was missing. After we reported the theft to the police, it mysteriously reappeared outside the kitchen window several days later. Within the week, L. had left town. We were grateful we had given him no money in advance. Slowly reports came out that others' credit cards had been stolen, thousands of euros paid and no work done, etc., etc. We were some of his lucky victims. There are many other tales of woe....the real estate agent who sold building plots that were not for sale and then promptly left town with the buyers' money, the many people who buy properties but are never given the escritura (deed) to their new homes. We all would like to think we are clever enough to spot the scam artists, but some of them are very slick. It is important not to be blinded by the sun of southern Spain and leave one's brain at the airport. I was doing some work yesterday and came across a term in an article that looked a little funny. I did a quick search on the Internet, and it only found one match. I skimmed the referenced article and soon realized the work I was editing had been plagarized, including the misspelling I noticed, from the piece I found on the Internet. This is the fourth case I've found in the past year, without even trying; I dread informing the publisher tomorrow. So scammers come in all forms, from small-town plumbers to well-respected academics. I'd like to believe that most people are good decent honest sorts. And in my heart, I know they are. I think our village has attracted more than the average number of bad guys, though, because they realize people come here enthusiatically, without well-established connections, and with some cash. I hope that the situation with M.A.'s computer can be settled quickly and amicably. I'll keep you posted.... hasta manana, mylifeinspain