Ugh, these past couple of weeks have been a real challenge. My boyfriend was away, and I was bogged down with the arduous process of dividing my 90 acres of land into 100 smaller plots. Originally, we considered splitting it into 260 plots, but that seemed too complicated to get approved, and the more we delved into it, the more fees we encountered.
First, the architect charged $2,000 to draft 260 maps. I discovered that we’d need to submit these maps to the cadaster’s office—a new requirement here in the rural North of Guatemala, unlike in the capital city. Unfortunately, the public servants handling these new directives were overwhelmed, so processing times were lengthy.
I had to obtain a copy of the map the cadaster had of my land, which should’ve been straightforward—just a $20 fee and a supposed 10-day wait. However, they were backlogged, and the director eventually promised it would take no longer than a month. But when the month passed, the secured paper needed to print the map was out of stock and took another week to arrive.
As it turned out, our land is almost rectangular on paper, even though it doesn’t exactly look that way in real life. Incorporating the extra land within our fences wasn’t an option, as this would involve re-splitting neighboring lands—a complex endeavor.
Then, to proceed with the land split, the office of protected areas needed to approve, as we are adjacent to a protected forest zone. The process, which was supposed to take 2 days, dragged on for weeks. The legal team approved my file, but the director was away to sign it. When I finally got back, I was told my file lacked a map. They didn’t inform me, so it just sat there until I returned. Thankfully, I had the map and handed it to them. Yet another mistake crept in when they incorrectly recorded the land number, which needed reprinting and signing by the absent director again.
Meanwhile, my new architect, who replaced the one who quit, was working on the maps. He printed them on thick paper and affixed his $1 stamp on each one. He was dismissive and careless, producing shuffled and incorrectly labeled maps. I spent hours correcting them, only to find he repeated the same mistakes. After pointing this out, he finally agreed to print and stamp the corrected maps, but didn’t follow through, making me drive an hour needlessly.
He then ignored my calls and even hung up on my boyfriend. We assumed he might have been drunk on payday. I’m now waiting for the 100 maps and the letter from the protected areas office. It’s frustrating because we can’t rush anything, as these people hold the power. Confronting the architect might mean he stops the work altogether. We’ve already paid him $1,300 out of $3,000, making starting over with someone else impossible.
I suggested submitting 20 maps initially since each cadaster review costs $15 per map. This way, if rejected, we’d lose $300 instead of $1,500, and only owe the architect $150 rather than $750. Despite this, the architect was dragging his feet, likely unimpressed with receiving less money upfront.
This situation underscores the challenges of such projects: unexpected fees, procrastination, and bureaucratic hurdles. Here I am, waiting, losing patience, yet knowing I can’t do much as they hold the authority. It’s certainly been an ordeal. What was your most frustrating encounter with a public servant?
