Come on baby, Light my DOORBELL..

On August 11 our doorbell caught on fire. Yes, you read that right…OUR DOORBELL CAUGHT ON FIRE! Anyone that has lived in the Middle East is laughing right now and shaking their head because they understand how these things happen. Surprisingly, it is really not that unusual. The same thing happened to a family in our ward a couple of weeks before. I had NO IDEA doorbells were even flammable!

We think that the doorbell switch was bad and that the wires fried when they received a constant prolonged current. Of course it was on a 220 volt wire and there was no breaker installed for that plug. Luckily we were next door when it happened.

Doorbell BEFORE and AFTER

We were at the Reed’s for Sunday Dinner (AKA Friday dinner) and Jon came over to get something from the house to show them. We were all sitting at the table when Marya’s door swings open and I hear Jon say, “Em! Come!” When I got to our front door I was really confused at first. It was so smoky inside that I couldn’t see to the back of the house. I ran BACK to Marya’s, swung open the door again and yelled “We have a fire!” (Brilliant, I know, but it was all I could get to come out.) I then ran back to our house and started opening up windows and doors to let the smoke out. By this time, Jon had put the fire out.

I could not believe how much soot that little doorbell created. Because all of our AC units were on, it just sucked it in and blew it all over the house. Luckily Jon thought quickly and closed the doors to our rooms upstairs, so they weren’t too bad, but the downstairs was completely covered in a thin layer of soot.

Even though we put the fire out and the danger was over, we thought we better call our landlord immediately to let him know what happened. (He was not too happy about being disturbed on a Friday, but we were not too happy to be burning on a Friday either.) He asked if Jon called the fire department. When Jon told him we hadn’t, he told him to call them right away and that he would come over. Anytime there is any sort of auto accident or fire or ANYTHING in Doha, you have to call the police to come and file a report. Especially with car accidents, you cannot get anything fixed without having a police report first (unless you know a guy who knows a guy.) So…Jon called the police department and explained (three times) what happened.

The other thing you need to know at this point of the story is that there are no addresses in Doha. Mail is delivered to PO Boxes only. People give directions and find their way around completely by landmarks. Sure, there are street names (for most streets) but most people only know the names of the major ones. Our street happens to be one with no name. Anytime we need to have something delivered to the house, we have to tell them to go to the neighborhood sports club (for soccer) and then meet them there to have them follow us back to our house. Three phone calls and 45 minutes later, the fire truck finally found its way to our house (actually Jon went out and found it and led it back to our housing compound.) If our house had still been on fire, there would have been nothing left. I would like to give them the benefit of the doubt and say they didn’t hurry because they knew the fire was out—but I really don’t think they understood that from Jon’s call because they pulled up with the siren going and looked a bit surprised not to find anything. (P.S. We live 10 minutes--normal drive time--from the fire station.)

They stayed for 20 minutes or so and checked out the rest of the house. During this time, the police also showed up to file a report. Apparently, reports can not really be filed onsite, so they asked Jon to come down to the station to file the report. (By this time it is 9:30 or so at night.) As Jon tells it, it took them 40 minutes to make a photocopy while everyone sat around talking and drinking tea. He then repeated the story to the same officer that was at our house and they filed the paperwork. He asked if we could have a copy of the report (thinking this was a standard thing), but the officer gave him a shocked look and just told him no.

In record Doha time, we actually had it fixed and the wall painted within a week. I was shocked that it was taken care of so quickly. Our landlord was very kind and sent over a team of 20 guys to clean the entire house from top to bottom (including wet-vacuuming the furniture.) That helped a lot, but it was just impossible to get all that soot cleaned up. For those of you who have not had a fire before, it is kind of like Christmas tree needles or Easter basket grass…just when you think you have it all…you find some more.

I had a pretty good attitude about the whole thing, but when the property manager came by with the electrician to make sure there was no more danger with those wires, I about lost it. He told me that the problem was not with the doorbell, the wires, or the switch. According to him, whoever rang the doorbell simply did not understand proper doorbell procedure!! He actually demonstrated to me how you are supposed to ring a door bell….press…and then release. The problem, he said, was that someone PRESSSSSSSED….and then released (and probably made the mistake of doing it several times.) I couldn’t take it anymore. Usually in Doha moments like this I just smile and say, “Well…no big deal. It is fine.” But this time I didn’t know whether to yell or to laugh (I think I did a bit of both.) I explained that I didn’t care how many times someone rang a doorbell, or how long they held it down, IT SHOULD NOT CATCH ON FIRE!!!! Doorbell safety training is not something that should need to be taught in our schools! I then pointed out the problems with the cheap-o doorbell and switch. I am sure he installed the cheapest stuff he could find and thought it would be fine. (There are no regulations here to make sure electrical equipment meets a certain standard—or if there is, I have never seen it and it isn’t enforced.) The landlord must have agreed with me, because not too long after we had a new, professional, eager-to-please facility manager who came over to see if anything else had gone wrong.

We never did have another doorbell installed because it just wasn't worth the worry to me. We are grateful that nothing was damaged permanently and all in all it was an adventure….or at least it makes a good story.

P.S. Five days later a hose broke in the bathroom on our top floor. Water dripped down the stairwell and gathered in a puddle at the bottom of the stairs. If only we could have coordinated the flood with the fire, they would have taken care of each other. (Insert appropriate joke about how our house has now been baptized by water and by fire.)