Two weeks ago my car, a 3 year old Ford Endeavor, started making odd noises. After some investigation, my driver and I concluded that it was the clutch assembly and would need to be addressed immediately. The next morning, after dropping me off at work, he trundled (loudly) down to the local Ford Workshop for the repairs.
As with everything in India, getting your car fixed is neither straightforward nor easy. Yes, you take it to the local Ford authorized repair facility, but that is where the similarities and, for the most part, the sanity ends. To add further irritation, most drivers can be bullied into unnecessary repairs (due to their position in the food chain) and therefore have to call the boss to authorize any work adding more time to the already arduous process. Just to add insult to injury, the workshops do not stock any parts, so once they have diagnosed the issue, you must wait several days for the delivery of the correct part. This can turn an hour job into a week without a car. Lastly, like all jobs in India, people may be “certified” to do their job, but no one actually has any training.
But the impact is not restricted to just frustration of the process, it takes a personal toll as well. When the car is in the shop, I am forced to take a taxi and my wife is forced to stay home. These may seem like little things on the surface, but they are deal-breakers when it comes to surviving in India. Firstly, even though the taxis are arranged by the office through a vetted taxi service, the drivers are unfamiliar with where you are going and, worst yet, for the most part, have severe hygiene issues. There is nothing quite like a 30 minute ride in a cab with a guy that smells like 2 parts body odor and 1 part urine. Depending on how bad it is, you can actually arrive at your destination physically ill from the stench. Secondly, and more importantly, India is only survivable for spouses because of their network of friends and activities. Remove their means to get to their “functions” and their tolerance for your decision to uproot their lives and bring them to Hades goes down considerably. Combine a 30 minute taxi ride with a guy that smells like an armpit and a cooped up spouse and you will do anything to get the car back!
None of the aforementioned would be the exception for this case.
Kailash, the driver, took the car in on a Thursday morning and the workshop attributed the issue as predicted the clutch assembly. While it was in, we thought we would also have the scheduled service done – you know, oil, belts, etc. Two birds with one wrench, so to speak. After the usual telephone tag between the workshop, the driver and the office, we settled on a plan and a timetable and they went to work. They ordered the parts with an arrival date on Saturday and they predicted that by the end of that day, we would have our car back. Good news! Well… again in India, things are not so simple.
In order to pay for the car, we would need to cut them a check. Simply enough, right? Tell us the total, we will cut you the check on Friday and give it to you when you are done on Saturday. Not in India. The cost of the repairs can only be calculated when the job is completed which would be on Saturday. Saturday is also the day the office is closed and no one is in to cut the check. Hum? So we added another 2 days to the process. In the end, a job that actually took 4 hours to complete ended up taking 4 days.
Finally, Monday afternoon, the car was finished and I was finally picked up in my own, non-smelly air-conditioned, car.
Well, actually not…… but that is a whole other story for tomorrow!
As with everything in India, getting your car fixed is neither straightforward nor easy. Yes, you take it to the local Ford authorized repair facility, but that is where the similarities and, for the most part, the sanity ends. To add further irritation, most drivers can be bullied into unnecessary repairs (due to their position in the food chain) and therefore have to call the boss to authorize any work adding more time to the already arduous process. Just to add insult to injury, the workshops do not stock any parts, so once they have diagnosed the issue, you must wait several days for the delivery of the correct part. This can turn an hour job into a week without a car. Lastly, like all jobs in India, people may be “certified” to do their job, but no one actually has any training.
But the impact is not restricted to just frustration of the process, it takes a personal toll as well. When the car is in the shop, I am forced to take a taxi and my wife is forced to stay home. These may seem like little things on the surface, but they are deal-breakers when it comes to surviving in India. Firstly, even though the taxis are arranged by the office through a vetted taxi service, the drivers are unfamiliar with where you are going and, worst yet, for the most part, have severe hygiene issues. There is nothing quite like a 30 minute ride in a cab with a guy that smells like 2 parts body odor and 1 part urine. Depending on how bad it is, you can actually arrive at your destination physically ill from the stench. Secondly, and more importantly, India is only survivable for spouses because of their network of friends and activities. Remove their means to get to their “functions” and their tolerance for your decision to uproot their lives and bring them to Hades goes down considerably. Combine a 30 minute taxi ride with a guy that smells like an armpit and a cooped up spouse and you will do anything to get the car back!
None of the aforementioned would be the exception for this case.
Kailash, the driver, took the car in on a Thursday morning and the workshop attributed the issue as predicted the clutch assembly. While it was in, we thought we would also have the scheduled service done – you know, oil, belts, etc. Two birds with one wrench, so to speak. After the usual telephone tag between the workshop, the driver and the office, we settled on a plan and a timetable and they went to work. They ordered the parts with an arrival date on Saturday and they predicted that by the end of that day, we would have our car back. Good news! Well… again in India, things are not so simple.
In order to pay for the car, we would need to cut them a check. Simply enough, right? Tell us the total, we will cut you the check on Friday and give it to you when you are done on Saturday. Not in India. The cost of the repairs can only be calculated when the job is completed which would be on Saturday. Saturday is also the day the office is closed and no one is in to cut the check. Hum? So we added another 2 days to the process. In the end, a job that actually took 4 hours to complete ended up taking 4 days.
Finally, Monday afternoon, the car was finished and I was finally picked up in my own, non-smelly air-conditioned, car.
Well, actually not…… but that is a whole other story for tomorrow!
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