A Nicaraguan Tale

Due to the heat and humidity, my clothes, particularly my t-shirts, are wet all the time. Also wet all the time for the same reasons is my leather wrist watch band. It's even damp when I put it on in the morning. Not surprisingly, the small leather loop that holds the little buckle decided to break. I think it just hardened from the salty wet environment, cracked and broke. I resigned myself to buying a new watchband, maybe this time a synthetic one.

There's no "watch store" as such in Granada. There are guys who sell watches, bands, and small watch batteries from little wooden tables set up on the sidewalk near the public market. They even do watch repair.

I walked up to one and showed him the band with the torn leather strip and muttered something like "I think I need a new watchband." He put on his eyepiece with the practiced demeanor of a serious professional at work. He studied the broken leather part intently. He looked up at me like I was crazy and said something to the effect of "Are you crazy? A new watchband will cost you at least two bucks!" He then placed my watch and band in a small vise-like device and waved his hand dismissively at me. He said "Go walk through the market and come back in half an hour."

Now, who was crazy? There was no way I was going to follow that advice, for at least two reasons. First, the "market," as those of you who've visited third world countries know, is this covered (in this case) square block of densely packed stalls, rising up 4 meters on the sides. Every square foot of floor space, wall space, and hanging from the rafters space is packed with every conceivable kind of item: animal, vegetable, and mineral. Added to this, the narrow passageways are teeming with people, jostling, pushing, shoving, and moving by each other squish by squash. It's a pickpocket's paradise. I would compare it to being in the bowels of the New York subway system at rush hour. It truly is something to experience. Having experienced it once, I see no need to be a repeat offender.

Second, how do I know this guy is even going to be there when I return? or that he'll acknowledge he's in possession of my trusted, highly valuable (to me) watch? I should interrupt here and describe this chronometer treasure. Not only does it tell time, but it does so in analog fashion, not digital. For us dinosaurs, this is wonderful! It also tells the date (when traveling, dates can sometimes fall by the wayside). By pushing a button, it will also light up, letting me know what time it is in the middle of the night in the dark. Last, but not least, gloriously it even has an alarm clock built in! This is incredibly helpful when having to get up at 4 a.m. to catch some sort of ridiculous flight that leaves at 6 a.m. This treasure of a timepiece is a Timex and goes for $39.95 retail. I would sooner lose a tooth than that watch.

So I spluttered out something like "I want to watch you at work." He again waved his hand dismissively. He pulled out a small hypodermic containing some type of super glue. He had two metal prods. He dripped some glue on the offending part of the leather band. He pushed the prods around and then blew on the glue. He set it aside for a few minutes to work on another watch. Then he dripped some more glue, prodded, blew on it some more, and let it sit some more. He repeated this cycle about half a dozen times. Half an hour later, he examined it closely through his eyepiece. It seemed to pass muster. He held it out to me. I asked him how much. He paused, sizing me up and down, and then charged me fifty cents. I strongly suspect the same work would not have cost a local more than twenty five cents. Some out there might think I was ripped off.

I mentioned this experience to a Nicaraguan friend. He told me "This is Nicaragua. That repair will probably fall apart in a day or two and you'll have to buy a new watchband anyway." Well, it's been over two weeks and the band is going strong. All in all, I'm delighted to be out fifty cents.