We needed a car. Well, need is a strong word. We’ve survived here for over a year without one, so I guess we didn’t need one. But, we sure enthusiastically wanted one.
We’ve been borrowing business cars when we had to go somewhere by car for the last year. Most people might imagine a business car as a sleek sedan with power everything, comfy seats . . . clean . . . Our business cars include trucks, a rattletrap SUV, and a little hatchback that was lovingly nicknamed Roachy (since it reminded the previous owner of a cockroach). Not exactly the executive fleet.
I am still a bit nervous about driving around here. It’s hard to get used to driving on the left, using a shifter with my left hand, and remembering that the turn signals aren’t the windshield wipers. Add to that the fact that there are very few traffic norms in this country. I can be driving along and a car will swing out from a side street directly in front of me. I may need to dodge a cow. Or wait for a flock of goats and sheep. There are no sidewalks, so school children and elderly men and women with a huge pile of grass on their heads frequent the road with me. It’s perfectly acceptable for someone to start driving in the opposing lane of traffic -- as long as they flash their lights at you to let you know they’re coming whether you like it or not. The middle of the road is a perfectly acceptable place to park. Or make a U-turn. Or play cricket. Chris calls it ‘Matrix driving’. You kind of have to just drive and feel what people are going to do.
Besides all this, I need to remember to honk. I must honk if I’m approaching a pedestrian, bicycle, or motorbike. I must honk if I am overtaking and passing someone. I must honk if I’m coming up on a blind turn or intersection. And sometimes I just honk when someone in front of me does something stupid. Oh, and there are no road signs that make any sense to me. No streets have street signs, so you never know what road you’re on unless you have heard the name of the road from someone. You have to remember how to get places by landmarks. And it’s hard to look for landmarks when you’re looking out for a motorcycle with 3-4 teenagers cutting you off.
One more thing: kids. Seat belts are a novelty around here, let alone car seats. So, I would never travel alone with my kids in the car because I can’t use the attention I need for driving and also make them sit down . . . or stop pinching their brother . . . or keep their hands off the door handles . . .
So, when I started trying to learn to drive here, my trusty tutor was Roachie. I wasn’t ready to try to maneuver a SUV or truck through the traffic here. But, a little hatchback? I can totally do this! I quickly discovered that Roachie has no power steering. So, while I’m trying to swerve to miss that bus, I have to crank with both arms. And, he has a problem with his brakes. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don’t. You can always get them to work, but sometimes you have to punch it twice. This is okay, except if it isn’t. And his shocks are almost non-existent. Hit a speed bump and sign up for chiropractic care for life. Roachie has a notoriously dingy rear window, so it makes seeing around everything kind of hard. Since driving here, I’ve stopped worrying so much about what’s behind me, though, I’ve got too much ahead of me to bother too much with the rear. And anyway, the guy will honk if he’s overtaking me.
So, you can imagine how often I got out on the roads. I kept Roachie pretty close to home and never left without another adult in the car. I was wondering if I’d ever get the guts to venture further. Not likely.
Until last week. We bit the bullet and bought a brand new car -- well, new to us. It’s a little van -- smaller than anything you’d find in the States, but not the smallest here by any means. It has seat belts. It has shocks. It has power steering. It has brakes. It is clean -- for now. It is my dream car. I’ve decided it’s name will be Smooth Ride Charlie (Charlie for short). Now we will see if venturing out will happen more often.
I was chatting with my friend recently about how God tends to work on us, mold our character, challenge us to be better, sometimes in pretty extravagant ways. He will do crazy things, like take us to the other side of the world, just so we don’t stay as broken and mixed up as we once were -- so He can teach us some things and make us better. It seems that He usually has to teach me some pretty hard lessons before He can use me in any way to bring hope or help to anyone else. We were talking about how He could use us how we are, but it makes it easier for Him if he works on us first. “Just like trying to drive around in Roachie!” She piped up. So true! We laughed about this for a while, but I’ve been mulling it over. How hard it must be for God to use me to bless anyone with my rusty brakes and stubborn steering! Maybe He’s getting me a little closer to working like a Smooth Ride Charlie, but I’m not so sure yet. I might need quite a few more tune-ups.
Smooth Ride Charlie in all his glory:
We’ve been borrowing business cars when we had to go somewhere by car for the last year. Most people might imagine a business car as a sleek sedan with power everything, comfy seats . . . clean . . . Our business cars include trucks, a rattletrap SUV, and a little hatchback that was lovingly nicknamed Roachy (since it reminded the previous owner of a cockroach). Not exactly the executive fleet.
I am still a bit nervous about driving around here. It’s hard to get used to driving on the left, using a shifter with my left hand, and remembering that the turn signals aren’t the windshield wipers. Add to that the fact that there are very few traffic norms in this country. I can be driving along and a car will swing out from a side street directly in front of me. I may need to dodge a cow. Or wait for a flock of goats and sheep. There are no sidewalks, so school children and elderly men and women with a huge pile of grass on their heads frequent the road with me. It’s perfectly acceptable for someone to start driving in the opposing lane of traffic -- as long as they flash their lights at you to let you know they’re coming whether you like it or not. The middle of the road is a perfectly acceptable place to park. Or make a U-turn. Or play cricket. Chris calls it ‘Matrix driving’. You kind of have to just drive and feel what people are going to do.
Besides all this, I need to remember to honk. I must honk if I’m approaching a pedestrian, bicycle, or motorbike. I must honk if I am overtaking and passing someone. I must honk if I’m coming up on a blind turn or intersection. And sometimes I just honk when someone in front of me does something stupid. Oh, and there are no road signs that make any sense to me. No streets have street signs, so you never know what road you’re on unless you have heard the name of the road from someone. You have to remember how to get places by landmarks. And it’s hard to look for landmarks when you’re looking out for a motorcycle with 3-4 teenagers cutting you off.
One more thing: kids. Seat belts are a novelty around here, let alone car seats. So, I would never travel alone with my kids in the car because I can’t use the attention I need for driving and also make them sit down . . . or stop pinching their brother . . . or keep their hands off the door handles . . .
So, when I started trying to learn to drive here, my trusty tutor was Roachie. I wasn’t ready to try to maneuver a SUV or truck through the traffic here. But, a little hatchback? I can totally do this! I quickly discovered that Roachie has no power steering. So, while I’m trying to swerve to miss that bus, I have to crank with both arms. And, he has a problem with his brakes. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don’t. You can always get them to work, but sometimes you have to punch it twice. This is okay, except if it isn’t. And his shocks are almost non-existent. Hit a speed bump and sign up for chiropractic care for life. Roachie has a notoriously dingy rear window, so it makes seeing around everything kind of hard. Since driving here, I’ve stopped worrying so much about what’s behind me, though, I’ve got too much ahead of me to bother too much with the rear. And anyway, the guy will honk if he’s overtaking me.
So, you can imagine how often I got out on the roads. I kept Roachie pretty close to home and never left without another adult in the car. I was wondering if I’d ever get the guts to venture further. Not likely.
Until last week. We bit the bullet and bought a brand new car -- well, new to us. It’s a little van -- smaller than anything you’d find in the States, but not the smallest here by any means. It has seat belts. It has shocks. It has power steering. It has brakes. It is clean -- for now. It is my dream car. I’ve decided it’s name will be Smooth Ride Charlie (Charlie for short). Now we will see if venturing out will happen more often.
I was chatting with my friend recently about how God tends to work on us, mold our character, challenge us to be better, sometimes in pretty extravagant ways. He will do crazy things, like take us to the other side of the world, just so we don’t stay as broken and mixed up as we once were -- so He can teach us some things and make us better. It seems that He usually has to teach me some pretty hard lessons before He can use me in any way to bring hope or help to anyone else. We were talking about how He could use us how we are, but it makes it easier for Him if he works on us first. “Just like trying to drive around in Roachie!” She piped up. So true! We laughed about this for a while, but I’ve been mulling it over. How hard it must be for God to use me to bless anyone with my rusty brakes and stubborn steering! Maybe He’s getting me a little closer to working like a Smooth Ride Charlie, but I’m not so sure yet. I might need quite a few more tune-ups.
Smooth Ride Charlie in all his glory:
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