This is a backdated post… I originally thought I should write, warning potential customers about bad/deceitful service I received. I was discouraged from doing so, but this post by Seth Godin reminded me and its the right approach. I will publish any response received from those involved.
Bad experience #1: Grossman Air Freight, Munich airport office - Price deception
Schlechte Erfahrung #1: Grossman Luftfracht, M�nchen Flughafen - Preis Betrug (falsches, h�heres Gewicht benutzt. Beschwerde ignoriert)
Story: original quoting, service and pickup went fine. The final price was only determined at the airport when Grossman Air Freight officially weighed the goods. It was higher than the weight I had measured, on low quality scales at home and I mentioned it to Herr Neu at the time. Believing their scales to be superior, I paid.
The good arrived later than promised (which wasn’t a problem for me) but to my dismay all the documentation at both ends used a weight lower than that used to determine the higher price I paid in Munich. I wrote to Herr Neu and was told he was on vacation. I wrote again and was ignored. I politely requested the difference in official weight and quoted weight be restored to my bank account. Nothing happened.
Bad Experience #2: Skippers Auto Warehouse - Dishonest dealing
My Story: Looking at second-hand cars. This company advertises heavily trust in their honest dealing. I believe they should be held to that - its a double edged sword. With me, they fell on the wrong side. I took a thorough testdrive with salesman Mike Lukasik. The car made a noise that I could not identify. It was easily repeatable and audible. He claimed not to be able to hear it. I asked for a mechanic to come ride with me while I demonstrated it. Time was wasted with another salesman explaining the noise. I liked the car and believe it was a minor fault, but perhaps indicated an accident had affected the rear axle. The mechanic was “unavailable”.
I was promised the car would not be sold (“sold” would be placed in the window” and the mechanic would drive it and get back to me at the latest the next day. I called back and was fobbed off (not yet driven by mechanic). Then I received a call “the car has been sold”. Now Mike Lukasik told me his manager had not allowed him to not sell the car or put “sold” in the window. He did not inform me of that before.
I bet the customer did not have the problem causing the noise fixed. Even if they did, the dealings with me were dishonest and time-wasting. I am very happy with the vehicle I later bought privately. Its better than the Skippers Auto Warehouse one in every way.
A family friend recommended I talk to a Dr colleague of his, who runs a business making medical equipment, useful and cost-effective outside western hospitals. At the time little did I know Dr George O’Neil is well known (and somewhat controversial) for his treatment of heroin and other opiate addicts. You can read a journalist style report here and about implants here.
Having done some background research and conversed on the phone, we met on Wednesday and went to his clinic. On the steps outside we met a vacant soul desperate to be helped today. ‘Nice to meet you’, I said. We entered, met a policeman from Mauritius visiting through his church, a volunteer, a nurse, a filmmaker, a recovering patient and more anxious, fearful troubled souls. ‘Nice to meet you’, I said, shaking hands.
Within 5 minutes we were in a surgery room, Dr O’Neil, a nurse, an amazing volunteer, a very nervous 28 year old girl from interstate, her very pained mum, an aunt and an observer… me. Everyone got to know each other a bit as things were prepared and my education started. She’d been on drugs for 11 years, the boyfriend who’d started her on it is in jail. She had to get permission from the authorities to fly here. We didn’t ask what she’d done. He’s not getting out anytime soon.
The treatment involves sedation, a rapid detox and the insertion of naltrexone implants. Naltrexone was invented in 1964 if I remember rightly and blocks receptors, meaning the addict is unable to get high or overdose. In Australia, approved medical practice turns heroin addicts onto another highly addictive opiate Methadone, available in daily doses from pharmacists. They say its harder to withdraw from methadone than heroin. These implants should last around 6 months in which time the patient is independent of both opiates. Unlike with tablets, there is no ‘forgetting’ to take the blocker. The procedure isn’t open heart surgery, but enough for the squeamish, especially in a stuffy non air-conditioned room. I sat. A drip was inserted in the arm and the patient relaxed. The Dr repeatedly injects into an area above the hips over quite a few minutes, which causes some pain, then makes an incision and puts in implants - which look like a row of pills before stitching it up. The patient is then helped to recovery.
The next guy just wanted the procedure done. He had a $400 a day habit, a baby and a two month pregnant using partner. He came alone, also from interstate. This one struggled through the treatment, totally out of it and screaming in a foreign language nobody understood. The amazing volunteer I mentioned held his hands and arms. At one stage he unconciosly tried to bite her. She’s been helping here for 6 years since her son was treated. I never found out where he is today. I would have asked privately, There wasn’t time for privacy. They needed me to hold his legs. He fought…and I got a closer look at the operation than I’d ever have expected. His stitch was very tight.
I was in on two more male patients, both heavy users (for around 15 years), but easier patients. The volunteer from before was needed in the recovery room so I found myself doing whatever needed to be done, not quite an old hand, but somehow as-if. I then spent time in the recovery room. The detox occurs under sedation, with nurses and volunteers on hand. Its not pretty but over relatively fast. The first patient had a few problems and was taken to hospital in an ambulance for observation; her narcosis being a bit on the risky side of deep. By this stage her family were nervous wrecks, our amazing volunteer always cheering them up, offering strength and a hug. Give her a medal. At some point sandwiches were brought in for everybody alike. I got to helping and talking to more of the volunteers, the Mauritian policeman showed me digital camera film he’d shot in the other operating room. Maybe you’d like to see it, but I’m glad the idea never ocurred to me. My camera was safely at home.
It was a long day and I left early to get back to my less naive, but oh-so-trouble-free existence. I bought a wine barrel mum wanted for her garden and joined old uni friends in a group of 23 for a double birthday dinner. AFPC won the Ultimate league finals, but the beer ran out before I could get there, so I missed it all.
The big news last week was the farm. I hadn’t been out of the city really since I got back. An old uni friend comes from a farm 150kms from my front door. I last saw Mike in Chester and London for Christmas 2002. Before that he’d visited me twice in Munich. Its strange he and I have come back within months of each other. You would find it a very big farm.
Just driving out of the city environment into the red dirt verges and eucalypt forests had me in a damn good mood. His family are some of the best people ever. I can call just to talk to his mum. I got up there around lunch time on a thursday during harvest (grain). I’ve been there before around this time, so knew they’d be hectic and hard-working and visitors take second fiddle unless they’re helping. Within an hour, my hands started developing callouses. I love visiting this life, but I’m amazed at the people that live it. I can earn more pushing paper and numbers around. They feed us. Is that right? The farm mum gave me 2 dozen eggs to take home, 6 or so of which are duck eggs.
We spent time in the trucks, filling bins and silos. Down in a field, Mike was showing me how the new grain cleaner worked. climbing up we took a look and openinq it up he noticed a screen roller not working. Our timing was fortunate and made my visit worthwhile. A bolt had just sheared off and was potentially minutes away from really damaging the machine. A bit of searching in grain turned up the bolt, which Mike then welded, better than new. The delays meant taking a load to a CBH Receival Point first thing the next day, so we were in the truck by 0630. After some refueling, a ride in the harvester and some new problem with the grain cleaner blocking up, I spent a little time up at the house before heading back to Perth to walk the dogs, do Jacobs ladder 6 times, dinner with rellies, pub and live-music with friends and a very good nights sleep.
Saturday I cycled out in the Swan Valley, killing my quads on the return headwind. A Sunday afternoon round of disc golf was memorable for my first ever birdie. A 30m approach that went in. Oh baby!
Maybe its just as well I’ve been a bit slow blogging about my trip to a friend’s farm last week. I’d been thinking about writing how ‘real’ it seemed on the land. City folk like me appreciate the space and quiet, but easily forget the callous forming work required. If its broke fix it, all hands on deck together, take the ups with the downs: out there nothing else works. Surviving comes first, then they try and turn a profit.
That sounds pretty real huh? Not like a comfy office job (or vacation) in the city right? Then I went down to a clinic and observed opiate addicts getting a rapid detox and naltrexone implants closeup. ‘Survival first’, for a heroin addict apparently means getting to the next hit. Your last thought at night, your first in the morning. A profit? Forget it! The saddest thing… I was meeting the lucky ones.
Sometimes its nice to dwell on how soft our lives really are compared to what is and was. I got a jolt making me dwell on this more, even when its not nice. There’s millions of people out there whose problems make ours seem trivial. They’re real too. Its easy to sit back, do nothing and forget about it. Its easy to complain about our problems. Very easy.
Yes… I’m still here. But here is much less “here and there” than it was. I’ve been in Perth for almost 3 months. You can do so much in 3 months. Or you can arrive home and do not so much. In 2004 I’ve enjoyed both immensely.
I eventually bought a car (a 1999 Mazda 323 Hatch, badged as a Ford), which tonight enjoyed its 60 000km Birthday. Pablo - thats less than 40 000 miles. My old road bike is roadworthy again, the saddle firmer than I remember it. I’ve been getting pretty fit and really enjoying the Ultimate scene over here, which is only going to get more and more pumped up leading into the World Championships in 2006. BBQ season is in full swing, something I missed in Munich. Unlike Spain/Portugal, no Sardines (you can probably get them), but we did a great Red Emperor last Sunday. One first for me was the home brew Scotch that came out last Saturday night. It went down better than I expected. My brother was in town quite a few weeks back already and since then his best mate also passed through.
Job-search wise, I’m still loosely networking and researching and want to start narrowing things down in the not too distant future. In the meantime, there are so many better things to do than work… Enjoy the festive season and Happy New Year.