This week we bought a car for $3400. I’m ok traveling around town by bus. Occasionally a musician will come on the bus through the front door and pay the driver a small fee to play for the passengers. This week a musician strummed a ukulele and belted out a beautiful Mexican ballad. When he finished, he went up and down the aisles, collecting coins for his performance. That doesn’t happen often enough.
Neto has needed a car for a long time. It takes him hours to get around the city on foot and by bicycle. And then, two months ago, his bicycle was stolen. He used to have a beautiful blue 1996 Ford truck but that was impounded when his mechanic left town to live in Brazil. The mechanic’s family had been killed by gangsters and he needed to get out of town in a hurry. All of the vehicles he’d been working on were locked up behind a chainlink fence and that’s where they still are, unattended and turning to rust.
I wanted a car to take day-trips out of Mazatlan to some of my favorite places ~ Brujas Beach, El Quelite, Teacapan, and maybe even Las Hacienda, the town where Neto’s mother was born.
On Wednesday, Neto found a good car ~ a bright lime green 2007 Nissan Tiide. Those models are work horses. They can go long distances and are easy to fix. The car came without a radio (stolen the previous night when it was left outside), gas in the gas tank, a spare tire or a jack. And, of course, it needed insurance and license plates, a lock for the gas tank and one for the steering wheel.
Driving in Mazatlán is not like driving in Denver. There are potholes and speed bumps on nearly every street and very few stop signs. Drivers cut in front of one another. They dart in and out of traffic. They make U-turns wherever they want and don’t watch for pedestrians. It reminds me of a giant bullfight. Sometimes you are a toreador and sometimes you are the bull.
Neto’s driving ability has improved with age. It’s a good thing. One time, while taking his mother to La Hacienda in his blue truck, he hit a cow. He claims he didn’t see the cow because it was nighttime and the cow was a dark brown color. She was grazing on the side of the road when BAM! he hit her. Mamacita started screaming and the farmer came cursing out of his house. The cow was not killed but was badly injured. The same was true for the truck.
“You hit my cow, cabrone!” yelled the farmer.
“Your cow is going to be ok. I didn’t kill her.” argued Neto.
“No, but you have to pay me for hitting my cow.”
“How much is it going to cost?”
“6500 pesos.” (About $400.)
“No way. I could buy you a new cow for that much money.”
“Ok. Pay me 6500 pesos, I will sell you this cow.”
“What am I going to do with this crippled cow if I buy it from you?”
“You can take her with you in your truck or you can leave her here with me. I’ll take care of her for you.”
So that’s what Neto did. He bought the cow for 6500 pesos. He named her Prieta (dark girl.)
He continued his trip to La Hacienda. When he returned, he visited Prieta. She was fine.