An inquisitive old fart with a camera
After almost four years here, I finally saw it: five people on a motorbike, an entire family.
Configuration: kDkM&i — kid in front, Dad driving, kid between, and Mom clutching an infant behind.
No helmets, of course. (To their credit, they weren’t on a fast/busy street, unlike the ones I showed here and here.)
Remember, here you often see cars like this. And if you want to see for yourself how ridiculous the prices for used cars can be, spend a few minutes rummaging around Mercado Libre…U$S means US dollars, simply $ means Uruguayan pesos, currently 20/USD. When we moved here in 2007, I sold my used Toyota 4Runner which, at best, might have fetched USD 7,500 in the US. Here, I found the equivalent listed for USD 32,500.
Helps put into perspective the otherwise insane thought of a young family of five on a motorbike, especially when you reflect on the difficulty of earning a living.
Long day yesterday with my son in the emergency room—badly broken ankle from early morning wandering around with his friends in town. At dusk on the way back, I spotted this truckful of girls. Technically a horrible photo, but then it captures what I wanted. Obviously enjoying themselves!
But they’re wearing helmets, which you’ll recall isn’t always the case.
“Doesn’t that guy know it’s dangerous to take pictures while you’re driving?”
Taken some time ago, this would be impossible tonight because the car is in the shop where they’re fixing the problem they said they had fixed a week ago. At that time, they were going to clean or replace the acceleration sensor to fix the hesitation the car has had for a couple years. Instead they replaced the ignition coil, which helped. For a few days.
Evening now approaches on day two. I hope they know what they’re doing this time. If last time is a clue, they’ll probably call at 7:30 PM or so to tell me it’s ready so I can jump on my bike and ride to get it AT THAT MOMENT.
…in the back of a 1950s truck. ‘Twas a notably hot day; fortunately rain came later to break the heat.
Anticipating holiday guests, a friend asked me to arrange transport (a flete) for her stuff, filling the guest space, to another friend’s shipping container in the country. With a local reference, I produced a hard-working driver with an ancient truck that did not inspire confidence.
But it worked just fine. The second of two trips. Truck: 1954 Commer.
Consumer goods in Uruguay tend to be shoddy, so bringing decent things when you move here makes sense. Linens and towels. Clothing. Hand tools, even comfortable chairs and a couch. Still, I marvel (sometimes poetically) at the quantity of stuff people feel the need to import.
Or perhaps I should say, feel the need to possess.
The 40′ container is now perhaps 60% full. Of unused stuff.
