Yeah... this sounds like a good story!
In case you didn't know, we bought a car four weeks ago at the car bazaar -- the place to buy a bizarre car! Basically it's a place where people bring their cars they want to sell and you walk around looking at them. You can't test drive them so you'd better know what you're looking for or bring a mechanic. We did the latter and brought our school's auto mechanic. We spent the whole day there looking at cars with colleagues who also were in the market for an automobile and some who just wanted to see what the car bazaar was all about.
So, after four weeks of waiting to drive our car (waiting for the registration to be turned over to the school, and then to us) we finally got the keys on Friday! It's a not-so-bizarre 1997 VW Golf, which is a car I've been wanting for several years. I'm happy to have something that's reliable, easy to park, and big enough to tote friends around with us. The car now has yellow license plates, which signifies that we are non-Kazakhs. It also has Japanese registration stickers on it, since it was imported from Japan to be sold here (the steering wheel is on the correct side for Kazakhstan, though). It's a purpley-grapey-plum color.
Anyway, we were very happy to get to drive it... even though it was raining -- the Almaty streets are exciting enough without having to add rain! We noticed, however, that there was no gas in the tank. The mechanics have been driving it to it's registration and inspection appointments, so we were surprised that they hadn't put at least a quarter of a tank in it. Since it was after 5pm and the mechanics had gone home (there is a car shop on site for fixing teachers' cars and the school's buses), we decided to just drive the car to the closest gas station (about 4.5 kilometers away). We headed straight there, no dilly-dally!
And yes, you guessed right (did you read the title of the blog? Activate your schema, people! What do you already know? What can you already predict?), not even 3 kilometers from the school, at a red light on a very busy street, in the rain, the car lurched, and then died. The light turned green, and a fury of angry drivers leaned on their horns. Michael and I just looked at each other and tried not to panic. I started pushing (while he steered), then Michael started pushing (while I steered). Cars were zooming all around us -- and this is not a country that respects pedestrians, so we were freaking out. We were on one of the busiest streets in our part of the city, in rush hour traffic, pushing a car up a hill onto a street we'd never been on before. Don't panic! You just have to go into Bear Grylls mode!
Suddenly, two awesome guys came out of nowhere and started pushing the car with Michael. I steered us around the corner, out of the intersection, and into the parking lot of a hotel. Michael thanked the guys sincerely, then got into the car and caught his breath. He looked at his phone -- it was almost out of batteries. As it turns out, I had forgotten my phone this morning (the first time I've done that in Almaty!). We crossed our fingers that we'd have enough power to make a few calls, and called one of the school's logistical managers in charge of getting teachers out of emergency situations.
She sent us into the hotel to see if there were any taxi drivers who had a spare gallon of gas in their car. While she spoke on the phone to the receptionist, Michael and I started to realize what the hotel really was. Either people were renting rooms by the hour, or there was a convention for women in thigh-high boots and tube dresses (being escorted by guys with slicked hair and pleather jackets). Our school helper told us that no one at the hotel could help us with gas... She was sending the mechanic to us, and we needed to sit tight for an hour. So, we did. We sat in the car park, watching the action through the rain and our very steamy windows.
Finally, about 65 minutes later, the school's head mechanic who helped us choose the car at the bizarre a month ago, showed up with a smile, an apology, and a gas can full of fuel. He'd also been the one to register it and take care of everything that needed fixing, so I think he was a little embarrassed that he forgot to put a little gas in it.) We joked for a while, then gave him the beer we'd purchased for the get-together we were missing (our friends were really understanding and were glad to hear we were rescued).
Soon enough, we were at the gas station getting a full tank of gas, then at home having hot showers after a cold and wet evening in the car.
So, I think we are record holders at the school: trouble in under 3 kilometers! Champions.
But, hey... we still love our car!
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