The saga of Isabela and the cabinet job gone bad

By Steven Rigney

Author’s note: Names have been changed to protect the guilty.

It all started innocently enough. There was a posting in the classified section of a local online gringo publication recommending Isabela, the English-speaking wife of an excellent cabinet maker. Susan and I had recently moved to Cuenca and into our newly built condo and we needed a cabinet so we contacted her. Yes, she was interested and offered to come over with Luis Rafael, her non-English-speaking husband, who was the designer/builder. He turned out to be the college-trained son of a respected local family woodworking enterprise. He actually worked in Guayaquil but was in town often for Cuenca jobs.

The final product … after the false start.

At the appointed time, they showed up and sure enough she could speak pretty good English. Him, not so much. Okay, not at all. But he had a solid professional bearing. They appeared to be in their mid-thirties or so, and both were very nice.

We talked about what I wanted and after going over my drawings, rechecking the measurements and exchanging questions, we had it all figured out. He could build our coat closet/entry seat with shoe storage/desk unit, all good quality and professional, for $750. I thought that it was a rather intricate job and expected it to be more. But, I was getting used to prices being quite a bit lower in Ecuador. So yep, that was the price, and it could be finished in about two to three weeks. We were leaving for the States in June, six weeks away, so that would work out fine. I confidently gave them $400 to get started and felt relief to have this project finally underway. And, at what I considered to be a bargain.

Now, mind you, I had heard all the stories and warnings of incompetence, theft and the many foibles of doing business in Ecuador. I’ve been around. Stuff can happen. There are also stories of competence, generosity and personal connection of which I could relate many as well.

I find it offensive when I hear gringos make blanket statements about how “they” do this or “they” do that, or “they” have an attitude or charge gringo prices or any number of unfounded prejudices. This is a subject that could warrant fuller expansion. But again, stuff can happen, and one does not have to be in a foreign country to be taken advantage of. Anywhere one goes, people are people, and most are upright and good. So don’t go there!

About three weeks later, I called Isabela to check on the progress. She cheerfully related, “Everything is going nice. We have been extra busy so we need just a little bit more time to finish it.”

This was pretty much expected, so no worries. Then a week and a half later, another call. Still not ready. She explained, “It’s almost done. Luis Rafael is in Guayaquil and as soon as he gets back it will be ready.”

Okay. I reminded her that we were going to the States in about a week or so we needed to get it installed as soon as possible. Fairly disappointed, the day before we had to leave, I called her to tell her that it was too late. We would have to wait on the installation for when we got back in a couple of months. She assured me that it would be ready by then.

After our return at the first of September, we re-established contact. Isabela was glad to hear from us but asked, “Could you wait just a bit longer? Luis Rafael is in Guayaquil until next week.”

Okay, fine. After another couple of weeks, another call. “Oh Esteven, I’m so embarrassed. Our delivery truck is in the shop,” I was dejectedly told. “Would next Tuesday be okay?”

I wanted to give her plenty of time, so I gave her a week from Tuesday. She then sorrowfully explained, “My baby has been sick and is in the hospital.” And by this time I was selfishly thinking only of my cabinet.

Okay, bad news. Life happens. I told her, “I hope your baby will be okay. I’ll call back in a few days.” Which I did, now it being the end of October.

Once more, after assuring me that her baby was okay now, “It’s all ready to go but it’s the Independence Day holiday and all of our workers took off early. We can deliver it next Wednesday.”

I’m all over this. So, I called on Tuesday just to make sure there were no more excuses. She enthusiastically reported, “We will be at your condo at three o’clock.”

Yippee, it’s actually going to happen!

Sure enough, at 3:30 sharp the guard in the lobby gave us a call to announce a visitor. “Send them up,” I happily said in Spanish. I opened the door to a nice young fellow all by himself; no crew and no cabinet. Just an envelope in his hand which he explained was from Isabela. Inside was $50 and a note scrawled out saying she was sorry, forgive her but she couldn’t deliver the cabinet and was going to give our money back. Oh!

Okay. So where in the hell is the cabinet? I thought it was all finished and sitting in the shop collecting dust. Nope. No cabinet. But no problem; she said she was going to pay us back. We would just start over and find someone else. We resisted letting little details thwart our wonderful life. That sounded lofty except now, no more money, no more answering my phone calls, no more excuses, no more nada. Seemingly, she went into witness protection.

I try hard not to lose my peace, but I also don’t want to casually give up $350! So, now we have a new game – Finding Isabela. I went several times to, what looked like, a large, professional, and well-run family shop and lumber yard in El Centro where she worked.

I would ask around, but no one knew anything. They didn’t know where Isabela was and didn’t know when she would return. It didn’t help that I had very limited Spanish, and no one at the shop knew English.

After a couple of months of showing up periodically and inquiring when I was in the neighborhood, they knew who I was and generally, what I wanted. One day, Luis Rafael’s sister, who could speak English, was there. I explained the situation. She understood and assured me, “I will speak with Luis Rafael and find out what is going on.”

This conversation took place in the company break room where it looked like Mama and a couple of other family members were cooking lunch and looking on intently. I got the distinct impression that Isabela was considered kind of a problem child in the family.

But now I thought, we were getting somewhere. I figured a little family pressure on Isabela to maintain their respectability would work in my favor. It did. When I showed up the next time, Isabela wasn’t there but I was told by Mama when she would be!

I arrived at the designated time a few days later and, lo and behold, Isabela was there! She acted very friendly, almost as if nothing was amiss. I asked about the $350 and, of course, she didn’t have it. I asked when I could receive it. Incredulously, she innocently asked, “It’s not that much money and you don’t need it, why don’t you just not worry about it?”

Well, I wasn’t expecting that.

Finally, we arranged that she would give me $200 the next Friday when she got paid and the rest the following Friday. I knew the family was involved behind the scenes so I felt confident that this might happen as planned.

Sure enough, the next Friday she cheerfully gave me the $200. The following Friday, the last $150 was handed to me. I humbly thanked her and we hugged.

Over the several months that this escapade played out, I was able to keep relatively calm and view the ordeal as another educational adventure in my new home. I certainly wanted my $350 back, but it wasn’t worth getting a bad attitude over. Isabela was correct; I didn’t need the money, but I still needed to pay for a cabinet to be made by someone and there was no reason she shouldn’t give it back.

I definitely wasn’t moved to give a positive recommendation to the online gringo publication which began this saga. But, while Ecuador continues to teach me patience and perseverance, the foregoing episode did nothing to change my favorable attitude concerning the culture and the people here.

The case was handled amicably on all sides. We parted on good terms and I am left feeling positive about the whole experience.
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Steven and Susan Rigney come from Washington State, USA and have lived in Cuenca part-time since 2012. When not writing, Steven enjoys hiking and mountain biking around the hills surrounding Cuenca.