George the mechanic is just the guy you would want if your car was broken down in the middle of the jungle. Friendly, sincere and totally trustworthy George is also adept at hunting down car parts in obscure places. What he can't find he makes, of which my car/truck/horse is a limping testament.
Under the circumstances limping is not all that bad. In fact it kind of fits well with the pace of life here in the village of Ojochal, Costa Rica. Going anywhere in a hurry just confuses everyone anyway. Besides it allows me to fit in well with the locals whose cars too (those that have them) are no longer a specific type or brand but an amalgamation of various parts that together make up a vehicle of sorts.
Of course there are a few Ticos in the village with nice recent model trucks. Zeno from the pulperia (corner store) has a shiny green Land Rover Discovery bought with the proceeds from selling off the family farm, and my friend Juan and his brother, whose family owns the new supermarket, both have recent model pick ups. But they are the exception. How nice for me then to fit in so well.
Perhaps I owe more of my acceptance here to the car than I think. My green, well worn, once Isuzu trooper is a regular fixture outside George's garage. Anyone on his or her way through town has no choice but to pass it en route and, as with most fixtures, its presence has become part of the landscape. In this way both the car and I have become established as residents.
When the couple from Toronto lost their cash and credit cards they went straight to the policia to report their loss. They also gave a description of whom they believed to be the thief, a young-looking white male with short dark hair, brown eyes and blue shirt driving an old green trooper. Ah yes, said the officer with the gold tooth, the green trooper. We know it.
Although it was necessary to establish my whereabouts and alibis with them it seems that the car, a recognized member of the community, was the primary character witness.
I no longer begrudge my cars insistence on visiting George as often as possible. Indeed it has cost me dearly and yes, I often have to walk but surely I am still in its debt.
Posted by pike at March 11, 2004 12:46 PMhey Perry,
I don't think you should take your car to pavones, you'll probably end up sleeping in it in the middle of nowhere, wait till we go ;-)
Arnaud
Hola amigo, como estas? It's so cool to follow you step by step in your travel...
Hasta la proxima vez y cuidate amigo.
cello
George sounds like quite the Mcgyver...it's nice to see that both you and you're car are accepted in the community... Any Epic Days of Surf lately?? check out covesurf.com let me know what you think.
Posted by: ian at March 15, 2004 04:46 PMNice to see you keeping a sense of humor about it all. Of course that is probably a lot easier when you wake up in paradise every morning. Hey look, its snowing again...
Patty
Posted by: patrick at March 14, 2004 10:51 PMSimply outrageous bro! If I was born into the frightened family, I would say wow.
;D
wiz
hey Perry,
sounds like you've been having a superb adventure--see you back on the ice in, uh, july?!
Cheers,
Jamie