We've Got Wheels, Baby

We were thinking about the ubiquitous 4x4 Lada Niva (you can get it in any color as long as it's white or burgundy)...
but thought, nah, better stick with a Suburu. Meet our new Forester (whose idle is set so low it stalls out at stoplights)!
Having now driven to school all by myself, I feel entitled to post on "Project Get-A-Car." "Project Drive-In-Georgia" deserves an entirely separate post. Stay tuned!

Car-buying is a teensy bit different here than in the U.S. Just as there's an exercise bazroba and a veggie bazroba and a potted-plant bazroba, there's a car bazroba. The car bazroba is a series of gravel parking lots between a major highway on the outskirts of town. There's the Russian Car Lot, the Right-Side-Drive Car Lot, the Foreign Car Lot, the Expensive Car Lot, the Super Cheap Car Lot, the Around-Towning Car Lot, and the SUV Car Lot. People pick their way along the sides of the road dodging oncoming traffic and enter the gates where ladies sell pastries, peanuts, and sunflower seeds to fortify potential buyers. Guys (because, yes, they're all men) who are selling their vehicles sit in or around their cars and wait. Buyers stroll and peruse.

We had it in our heads to get a Niva. I mean, how could you live in a post-Soviet country and pass up the opportunity to own your very own Lada? Plus, as one of our students told us, "We have a Niva and an Audi. When the Audi's carborator goes, it costs a few thousand bucks. When the Niva breaks down, the repairguy just grabs a part from one of the hundreds of old Nivas hanging around and it costs 15 lari (about $8)." Plus, with its four-wheel-drive rough-and-tumbleness you can go anywhere.

Enter Kakha, the trusty school security guy aka the man who fixes all problems and makes all arrangements. Part of Kakha's job is to accompany new teachers to the auto bazroba and be the middleman. We just point at what we're interested in; he deals with the logistics (getting it checked out, making the deal, convincing newbie foreigners that, yes, used cars really are that expense here). I don't envy him.

So the owner brings the Niva to school, the school's mechanic checks it out, and we are invited to take it for a spin. Where are the seat belts? Kakha waves his hands and says, "This is Rrraashen car. What do you expect? The owner took them out; it's not a problem to put them back in." Wiper fluid only squirts out of one of the sprayers? Kakha laughs, "This is Rrraashen car." It becomes a kind of amusing refrain, but ultimately the Niva is just too small with a kiddo.

So starts the driving life with our new Subie, which Eli found during Auto Bazroba Take II. It definitely has its quirks but has yet to abandon us on the roadside for more than 10 minutes so far. But my Russian vocabulary for words like "jumper cable" is increasing by leaps and bounds.