When we broke off the house hunt story last time, my offer of $750 per month had been accepted, with the provision that I would pay the water and electricity charges. They wanted me to deposit $750 to their bank account to hold the house until we could sign a lease. There was a brief discussion about the lease start date. I wanted June 1st, they insisted on May 15th. I gave in, as I had gotten a rental price lower than I had expected.
They also wanted the equivalent of two months rent as a deposit. I objected to this. They said it was because of the cats. It was an unfurnished house, I countered. What were the cats going to damage?
They then said that the previous two lots of tenants had been problematic. One didn’t pay the utilities. One did damage to the floors. Both had moved out before the end of their leases.
By way of background, I knew by then that the deposit here, is truly a deposit against damage done by the tenant. Most leases make a point to specify this. It is not a question of first and last month’s rent. Or first and last month’s rent with an additional month as deposit. The last month’s rent is to be paid when the last month of the lease rolls around. Then the landlord typically has a specified number of days to assess any damage and return the deposit, less an amount for whatever damage is claimed, if any.
This is the contractual obligation. In fact, what happens is that many tenants simply move out before the lease is finished, leaving the deposit against damages to be applied to the rent. I personally know several people who have done this.
One of my acquaintances found another tenant who took over her lease, so no problems there. But it is not unusual for the landlord who thought he had a tenant for a year or even just six months to find himself going to all the trouble and expense of finding a new tenant after, in one case I’m aware of, a couple of weeks. With the river apartment, the owner told me the previous tenant had signed a one year lease from the U.S., having never even been to Cuenca. Then she left both the apartment and Ecuador to return to the U.S. after one month.
While some landlords are philosophical about it, other are infuriated when this happens, especially if there is damage or unpaid utility bills.
I pointed out that I had never broken a lease and had always received my deposits back. I offered them the contact information for my previous landlords so they could check for themselves. Nope, they were fixated on the two months deposit. I caved, but stipulated that I be given a two year lease at the same rent for both years. I loved this house and really hoped to stay there for many years, barring catastrophic problems with the house, with my health or with Ecuador. Also, the house had been for sale or rent and I didn’t want it being sold out from under me.
They agreed. We had a deal.
Carla drove me to the bank and I deposited the $750 to their account. The next morning, we were to meet at the notary to sign the lease.
That’s when the drama started.
First, more context.
It kind of amuses me to realize that I have signed four leases here in Cuenca in something like 32 months. I never really lived in the river apartment. It was an experiment which I abandoned for my old apartment within the first month, although I paid the full six months there. I have never broken a contract and never intend to, at least not without cause. I am not one of the people who tells the landlord to apply the deposit and go whistle for the rest. I’m a lawyer and I take both legal and ethical obligations seriously. Indeed, shockingly, I would argue they are one and the same. Remember that as the story proceeds.
I came to Cuenca house hunting on my own in 2018. When John, back in Canada, agreed that the gorgeous house on Padre Aguirre was the best choice, I was invited to sign the lease and then go to the notary. Having not much Spanish and knowing nothing about landlord and tenant law in Ecuador, I said I wanted to take it to my lawyer first. Both Carla and Ana, who owned the house, seemed a bit surprised by this. They earnestly assured me that we would be having the lease notarised ‘for both our protection”.
For my part, I couldn’t understand what a notary was going to add to the process. A notary was not going to explain to me any problems with the wording of the lease or legal implications. I repeated that I wanted my lawyer’s advice. Clearly baffled, but agreeable, they said there was no problem with me doing this.
Grace, my lawyer (and subsequent landlady), had some suggestions and clarifications to make to the lease. Ana had no problems with the changes. Then off we all went to the notary.
This too, I found amusing. There was a great deal of producing of cedulas (national identity cards) and passports in my case, a great deal of photocopying, followed by a great deal of signing, followed by a great deal of vigorous rubber stamping, a great deal of affixing of seals, not to mention a great deal of standing in various lines.
Every page was like this.
It was like something from a Monty Python sketch. At the end, I had a beautifully collated document between lovely covers with the name of the notary prominently displayed, which, I was informed impressively, was now on public record.
Alrighty then.
I gained an all too painful further familiarity with those notarial functions after John died. The amount of documents that had to not only go through that process, but a further round of lines, stamps and seals with the Civil Registry was truly monumental. Ana, bless her, helped me with all that.
The general feeling here seems to be, that if something is important, get the notary to do their thing.
When I left the house where John died and moved into the comfortable but compact furnished apartment rented to me by my lawyer, I did a quick read through of the short and simple lease that Grace presented. By then, my Spanish had improved and I could identify clauses and conditions I was quite familiar with through my own legal practice in Canada.
Ironically this lease, between two lawyers as landlord and tenant, was the only one not notarized.
I later learned that if a lease has not been notarised, neither party has standing to sue the other in an Ecuadorian court. I think that on that occasion, Grace and I both being lawyers, tacitly acknowledged that the hassle and expense of litigation over any landlord and tenant issue was never going to be worth it.
My landlord here resisted having the lease notarized, but Carla insisted.
I didn’t care, as I had no intention of suing for any reason. Been there and done that in my professional life and now wanted only peace at any price.
All this is by way of explaining why I (former lawyer, let’s all remember) didn’t demand to see the lease for the new house before agreeing to Carla picking me up to take me to the notary to complete the lease.
I assumed it would have the standard clauses I was by now familiar with, and embody the terms we had agreed upon. Cookie cutter stuff.
The morning appointment was postponed to late afternoon. When I got in Carla’s car, I remarked that I hadn’t seen the lease yet. She said the other side was preparing it. We would get it at the notary and she would go through it with me. She was annoyed that the other side had insisted on using their notary instead of Carla’s.
We arrived at the notary’s where I met Nelly, the older lady who actually owns the house, and her daughter Diana, who was there to assist. Nelly and I sat down while Diana and Carla went to do their thing at the desk.
After a few moments, Nelly leaned over and said something, in Spanish of course. Not only did she speak quite quickly, but her voice was muffled by her mask. Also, there was quite a lot of noise in the office. All those photocopiers and the banging of rubber stamps create quite the din.
I naturally therefore believed that I had not heard her correctly. Because if what I thought I heard her say was correct, then either she was crazy or I was.
What I thought I heard her say was that the lease was going to show a rental of $550, for half the house and a $750 deposit.
I asked her to repeat it. Same thing. I went to seek out Carla who had just received the lease and the same news from Diana. The story Diana gave to Carla, as repeated to me in English by Carla, was muddled. It had to do with taxes. The number $7000 was mentioned. I’m still not clear whether these people owed $7000 in back taxes on the house, or whether the assessment on the house was tied to the value of the lease and they would save $7000 in taxes with this ploy, or if the taxes would be $7000 without it.
Whatever. It smelled of week old fish.
By this time I was scanning the lease that Carla had handed to me. It was a freaking mess. The owner was referred to as Señora Nelly Blank Blank Blank (her three other names). I was referred to as Señorita Heather. The clauses that followed didn’t make any sense, even leaving aside the incorrect numbers. It looked like a grade schooler had randomly thrown a bunch of sentences together, perhaps stealing a few legal terms from Google. I shook it at Carla, making inarticulate noises of a generally “Whaaaaa?????” nature and she told me, with a grimace, that the notary had prepared the lease. I guess that’s why they insisted on using their notary.
I was by now not just confused but alarmed. The more I read and the more explanations were given to me, the more it became clear to my befuddled mind that what was going on here was an attempt at tax evasion and even fraud.
I wanted to rent a house in Cuenca, not a jail cell.
We just had a riot at our local prison. There were actual beheadings and dismemberments. I’m not exaggerating.
Furthermore, I was seriously concerned by the possibility that there were back taxes owing. I expressed concern to Carla that the house would be seized out from under me by the city or the federal government for back taxes. She assured me this was not possible under Ecuadorian law. I asked Carla to excuse me for pointing out that she is not an Ecuadorian lawyer.
I may have raised my voice just a tad at that point.
Carla and Diana kept assuring me that Nelly and Diana were good, honest people. I just kept pointing to the fraudulent lease and shrugging.
Into the middle of these exciting developments, came the announcement that the notary’s office was closing. We were all hustled to the front door.
Carla said we’d continue on to the office of her notary, which would still be open. I informed her that I would not be continuing on to any notary’s or indeed with this lease; at least not in the form it had been presented to me. And maybe not at all. I was profoundly disturbed by this ambush and was seriously questioning whether, even if the lease could be rectified to reflect reality, I wanted to get into bed with the sort of people they had revealed themselves to be.
I told her to take me home. There I met my landlord and paid that month’s rent. As he wrote the receipt, he said he wanted a favour from me. I cautiously inquired as to the nature of this favour.
“If anyone asks you how much rent you pay me, tell them $300.”
I had to grab my head to stop it from exploding.
I informed him that I was not comfortable lying for him. But, I pointed out, who is going to ask me? I never answer either the phone or the door unless I know who it is.
Seriously, I couldn’t make this shit up.
Next installment, I dabble in drafting Ecuadorian leases. In Spanish. And go back to looking at real estate.
You must be logged in to post a comment.