Cupo

There’s a word we put in context when talking about warranty: tutelage. You see, the people, at least here in Venezuela and as figure of speech, give away their rights, so The State can manage them in order to balance (or try to) the society. Perhaps this is what Montesquieu implied; we use it that way, and I’m telling you such to make myself explained at saying when someone asks for a service, and the one who is to serve agrees, there comes an establishment of rights and an obligations (and the treat can be set just with a handshake. I heard it at law school) which gets, let’s say, sealed, by signing a paper. What’s my point? We live in a moment where a cell phone costs more than two hundred dollars, we do, but the average salary here is maybe over thirty dollars or even less than that, so; as you can see, a mobile could cost a year, a year few can have.

It wasn’t always like that. Ten years ago we flattered each other with the cupo: this sort of bonus in dollars Venezuelans used to have. And of course, everyone had a two hundred smartphone or higher. It was that way until 2012 perhaps. It doesn’t matter, the point is that it’s over, and, since people are not able to get a new phone, a whole world of repairers have emerged. It seems ok in words, but the problem is that these fixers are not certified, because there’s no such thing here. Many of them are just guys that disarm the device and replace the parts. They may not be real technicians, I mean and of course, there are no warranties…

My cell stopped working. I went to one of these tiny stores with a kind of technician to see if I can have cell phone again, otherwise I’ll have to wait several months; fewer than many because I do many things for it. I went there, they made me sign an agreement paper, they showed themselves very pro and a week went by…

I called them several times during the week and the only answer was a selection of delays; some understandable (because we are here) and some not so much. The week ended yesterday and I decided to show myself at the store. I must say it was a terrible week, you guys may feel me, because you do know the importance of the smartphone: the news, the councils, the translations, the wife, the mother and so on… once they checked my part of the paper and found my phone, a girl (and I’m keeping to myself the words I have for her, only because I consider myself a gentleman) looked at me and, wearing a gesture as she was bored because of me, she said to my face: it cannot be repaired…

This could be a joke to laugh about in any other time but, at this moment, it is a tragedy. I told her with the anger in my eyes why, why they took a week to tell me so if they could have said it days behind, she just did a pressing movement with her lips. I guess she was trying to say she didn´t know without using words…

Tutelage became a privilege. The State has removed us from any action to take. How about where you are? You will probably settle, which is accurate in this kind of cases. Here if you are violent enough you may probable hit the guys and spit on the girl’s face but I’m not that kind. I’m not even angry at them. I’m angry because there’s nothing to do but trying somewhere else to see if I get lucky this time… and this is pretty much what happens among people’s interactions…