In Madrid, everyone's enchufed to bits

Margarita wanted to get her three-year-old daughter into our heavily oversubscribed, state-funded school, but she was missing a crucial qualifying point. Might I have a word with the head teacher?

I sidled up to him a few days later. Had he met my friends? "Yes, of course." Did he know about their important, high profile jobs? "Yes, yes ..." he nodded. It was clumsy, and I was embarrassed, but it was my best shot at getting the machinery of " enchufe " - the age-old Madrid system of playing contacts - whirring.

When the list of new pupils went up last week, the little girl had mysteriously gained that extra point. Did I get it for her? I can't say. Will I get the " jamon ", the leg of cured Serrano ham that is a traditional thank-you present for providing someone with enchufe? I certainly hope so.

Doubtless, the head teacher will have been bombarded with similar approaches by friends, education department bosses, colleagues, mere acquaintances, maybe even the odd politician.

In Madrid, enchufe is a way of life. Getting a job, the best doctor, finding a school - all the essential moves in life are made easier by having the right contacts. Those who refuse to use them are considered excessively principled, if not plain stupid.

I resisted enchufe until, during a cold, damp autumn, we moved into our current house. Our first day there the gas man came to connect us to the mains but told us our kitchen was "illegal" and needed a new vent. He would be back in a few days.

The days turned into weeks. It got colder. There were no hot showers and our appetite for Telepizza takeaways was being stretched. After ringing "customer services" daily for three weeks, the baby fell ill and my patience snapped. I picked up the phone and rang the press office of the large corporation that owns the gas monopoly. "Could you suggest who I should talk to about this?" I asked.

Journalists, I discovered, have a high enchufe rating. We are deemed, mistakenly, to wield influence in the upper circles of power - as though we might be a good touch on the enchufe chain ourselves one day.

The press officer asked for my details. Two hours later a new gas man was at the door and we were connected. When I admitted to friends what I had done they were surprised by only one thing - that I had waited so long.

Since then I have used enchufe at occasional moments of crisis. A misplaced airplane ticket? Ring a contact at Iberia airlines. Need to be present at the birth of my second child? Ring the consultant doctor we met at a dinner party.

Nothing remains untouched by enchufe . A recent poll showed most students thought they would not get a job without it.

And that, of course, is the problem with the system. For every winner, there is a loser.

We used enchufe - calling on friends or people with influence in the local education department - during our own campaign to get our children into school.

Did it work? It is impossible to know. Enchufe at its best is subtle and, of course, undetectable. But if it did, some other child must have been pushed out. Perhaps I'll pass on that jamon 1919.