Lawyers in Guate Part 3

If you remember from Part 2, I was expecting a final meeting with my attorney and the opposing party to sign papers and close the deal.  I brought a friend along to help me with any Spanish obstacles, and arrived on time for my appointment.  To my great surprise, the Pack of Seven had returned, and the documents were not prepared.

As I later learned, it is common for attorneys to prepare documents in front of the clients here, rather than doing them beforehand and having them ready for the client to review.  I thought about proposing to the attorney that I pay for his time and he pay for my time, but bit my lip.

I decided not to make a big deal over the pack, remembering that Santiago had told me that for many locals there is safety in numbers here and that they were likely frightened and intimidated by me, so I decided to let it go.  Big mistake.

As the attorney began preparing the document, the pack started making noise.  The attorney who had insulted Santiago the day before was prowling about the room, insulting my friend and urging the other pack members to dig up previously-resolved issues.  When we got to a section of the contract that specified the things agreed upon the previous day, all hell broke lose.

In short, the pack members wanted to change the deal.  The dollar amounts were not terribly significant in the big picture, maybe a few hundred dollars, but I was pissed off.  I sat impassively and simply said “No” every time they asked for anything beyond what was asked for the day before.  After about 10 minutes of this and 20 “No’s” from me, I could see the pack was worked up into a frenzy.  I desperately wanted to get down on all fours, roll my eyes back and start licking my lips and screeching like those hyenas do in the National Geographic films, but I knew that not a person in the room would get the joke.

So, instead I decided to returned the favor.  I told my attorney that I was going to call my friend Santiago, and that the assembled group could meet on another day and that we could restart negotiations then.  You can always tell when you’ve hit the mark, because the room went deadly silent.  (All that could be heard was a distant ayudante yelling, “Guate Guate Guate!”) It wasn’t my poor Spanish that did it, it was the reference to ‘Don Santiago’ that brought the pack together in their cowardly silence.

Immediately one attorney and her friend left, snarling and hurling insults at my poor friend whose only job was to fill in the gaps for me.  (I have since learned this attorney also does work for a local real estate firm and am happy to warn readers off individually from said firm).

I thought that this ‘divide and conquer’ strategy had worked but apparently the remaining attorney was the true leader of the pack and called my bluff.  She started in on the nickel and dime strategy and I let her go for about 10 minutes, another mistake.  I had to draw a line in the sand, and did.

I told the attorney that I had decided to change my offer.  My new offer was approximately $1,000 less than the price agreed on the day before.  I explained that this was in consideration of the re-opening of the negotiations, the  disrespect I had experienced and the waste of my time.  She reacted violently, little flecks of spit flying in my direction and insults to my attorney, who seemed, like before, generally irritated at the time this was taking.

There was no question in my mind what the next step was; I picked up my phone and keys, extended my hand to my attorney, and looked to the opposing party and said, “Vaminos”.

At this, everyone jumped up.  My attorney was yelling “It’s no problem! It’s no problem! It’s gonna be okay!”.  The translator/friend was half way to the door, the attorney appeared to have given just a moment’s thought to charging me, and the brother of the principal had his hands in the air, apparently beggin El Senor for intervention.  The principal had said very little, but came rushing over to me, begging in near-perfect English that I not leave, apologizing for all that had happened and saying we would have no more trouble.  The attorney was instructed to wait outside.  I winked at her as she left.

Thirty minutes later the contract was finished and signed and I shook hands amiably with the principal, her brother and his wife.  On the way out the front door, the attorney wouldn’t look me in the eye but told my friend that he should be “careful” the kind of gringos he associates with.  At hearing this I stopped, made sure I had her name and firm right, conspicuously took the notes on my Blackberry, smiled, and left.  Even Gringos can file denuncias.

What are the lessons to be learned here?

Well, for starters you can’t expect from attorneys here what you might in the US.  Don’t make that mistake.  You’re going to need to treat your own attorney like you would an opposing counsel in the US. You are just a gringo to them, a ATM of sorts, and you’re not going to get the best advocacy they have to offer.  As far as they’re concerned, you’ll be gone soon anyway.  So you need to decide what you want, press for it yourself, and not count on your attorney to voluntarily look out for your interests.

You also need to be prepared to spend lots of time, so don’t schedule anything close to an appointment when other parties are going to be involved.  Otherwise you’ve just negotiated against yourself.  Put a limit to it though, in your own mind, so you can throw it out there and use it as a lever against them, e.g., “I’m only going to waste 30 more minutes on this, and then I’m gone” or, “For every 10 minutes that we spend renegotiating, my price drops by 100Q”.  Next time I’m in this situation, I’m actually going to vocalize it, “I have an appointment to have my shoes shined in the park and I don’t want to be late, so it’s now or never amigos.”

You need to be ready to walk away.  This is a great strategy in any business negotiation, but more important here than in the US because your willingness to do so demonstrates you are in control, and not the opposing party (not unlike buying fruit at the mercado).  When I was ready to walk away, the principal in the transaction started  kicking the troublemakers out.  Don’t get so attached to the deal that you HAVE to have it, or they’ll sense that and move in for the kill (like the Wife eyeballing the fresas at the mercado).

You can’t show generosity.  In the US you are often taught that giving in on little inconsequential points can demonstrate generosity and flexibility and make the other party like you and want to work with you on other things.  Not so here; you’re simply showing weakness.  You don’t have to be mean, but you can’t give an inch.  If anything, you need to be ready to go on the offensive at the first sign of equivocation by the other party.  (Like backing off the agreed-upon price when they start changing the deal).

Finally, watch lots of Animal Planet and National Geographic.  Since this experience I’ve had other encounters where the pack mentality is employed.  Maybe it’s a cultural thing, maybe there really is fear of Gringos, but when it was one on one or two on two, we got the deal we should have.  Not a better deal, mind you, just the original deal.  This isn’t about taking advantage of anyone, it’s about playing fair and watching your own back.  At least for me it helped to take the edge off the whole experience and I think if you’re in a good mood and at ease and they’re all wound up, you’ve got the advantage.  (And don’t bother writing to me saying I’m equating Guatemalans to animals, that’s not what I said  and you’ll just look foolish).

Needless to say, doing business here is more difficult than in the US, and adds a lot to the experience versus simply living here.  It also means that there is less gringo competition for the business opportunities, and that lack of skilled competition translates to profits for the rest of us.