More on elephants and an experience in car shopping

Another exciting encounter with elephants the other day…. We were on our way to town, driving in Charles’ tiny Japanese Subaru when we came across a family of elephants.  The juvenile darted in front of the car as we came to a slow stop, and then the presumed and overly protective mother began to rear back and forth, not more than a few feet in front of the vehicle.  She waved her great trunk up and down and her entire body swayed rhythmically.  We now have experienced the shocking first glimpse of a female elephant’s giant breasts – an experience incomparably described by Robert Sapolsky in A Primate’s Memoir.  We thought a charge was imminent, but she showed us mercy and moved on.  Funny the feeling such an instance provoked.  At first I felt an instant pang of fear, which soon dissipated and was replaced by awe and paralysis.  So magnificent, so humbling a 6,000 pound beast can be!

Well, we had our first experience with our new ride.  A 2000-something Land Rover.  A Defender.  It is forest green with a white roof.  She has a row of back seats and then a large trunk area that houses sub-woofers (apparently the vehicle was government owned previously – hence the affordable presence of unnecessarily large electronics – so big that you might guess the car was once the star of that MTV show Pimp My Ride).  She is in very good condition and well worth the maximum we allotted for a car budget.  Still overcoming the hurdles of foreign banking – but we project she will be in our possession by next week.

The car inspection was interesting and consisted of a rigorous examination of the vehicle.  We drove the car around town – even through the muddy remnants of the local car wash (which really just consists of several guys standing in a dirt patch on the side of the road with an endlessly running hose).  The car was tested through the sticky gorges, moved forward and reversed repeatedly, to prove its durability in the face of adversity.  Come rainy season, we will certainly use the 4-wheel drive.  Then the car received a car wash to show how beautiful it can be when squeaky-clean.  We then drove the car to the local gas station and pulled her into the garage area.  Bennett, Charles, our car-dealer-middle-man Kennedy, the sellers, the guy who worked at the garage, and I all walked down the stairs and took a look at her from below.  We then backed her out and half the town came to inspect and offer their opinion.  Luckily Charles is a trained mechanic and knows what the heck he is looking at.  And now, with Bennett as his apprentice, we can depend on being pretty self-sufficient when it comes to the basic operation of the car and minor repairs.  Bennett’s driving lessons amongst the herds of temperamental elephants and twitchy impala have also proven him an adept driver.  

We later made an official agreement (one based on word and a hand shake) that we would take the car and they would take care of it while we dealt with procuring the money.  All discussions were made while sitting in the parked Land Rover, in the middle of a bustling market filled with hundreds of staring eyes, during the apex of the suns ascent, all sweating profusely and exhausted.  We decided to celebrate by treating ourselves to the local favorite of nyama choma – roasted goat meat (goat being preferred) that is accompanied by your choice of chapati (a delicious fry bread) or ugali (a mushy corn meal type dish I think mostly useful for it additional calories and its ability to soak up the juices, taking on the flavor of the main dish), and some sautéed kale.  When ordering nyama choma, you approach the counter and the chef pulls out a representative hunk of goat leg.  The customer then examines it for quality and I guess for its fat and meat content, and then chooses how much they think they can eat.  Everybody take a seat and then your waiter brings over the boned meat on a platter and carves the whole of it in front of you.  All is scooped up and eaten with your hands – a heaping piece of goat, a sprinkle of tomato and onion garnish, and a torn piece of chapati.  I really enjoyed my kale, chapati, and ugali mish mash.  No sliver of meat is left unattended.  Traditionally the waiter then comes and pours hot water over your hands in order to degrease your fingers. 

Tomorrow we are making the trek into town to replenish our stock of vegetables, make some check marks next to our ever-increasing list of things to do, and perhaps even to get some work done :)

 More pictures to come within the next couple of days!

Maria