It was wet, so off to a good start.
They fixed it with a band-aid, but by tomorrow it'll be back to a drip...but that is too far into the future, because tonight he is going to swing me by...um...the shop didn't have a name...just a big Castrol Motor Oil sign and something that resembled fire damage. So we will call it Oil Fire's "Garage." We are going here because my car has a dead battery and is resisting all attempts to revive it for more than one trip.
He drove me to this place and we speak to the desk guy. Indian, and has the look of someone who just found their sucker in the form of a white guy wearing flip flops....
Which white person wearing flops do I mean?
Sup? Need a timing belt that is hung at eye level if you're 6'1"?
But Jaffar worked him over and we ended up striking a deal for a new battery for my dead Deathtrap-Mobile, (DTM). It started at 37 BD with a 6 month warranty, and after a series of whistles and finger waves, Jaffar got it down to 33 BD with a 12 month.
Not bad.
I just stood there and looked pretty.
Much like Randy in Christmas Story, it was my only defense.
Don't mind the white guy not speaking Arabic...he is just part of the scenery...
So they shake on it and as we leave Jaffar turns and says, "Do not forget his face now - he will be here tomorrow and you give him the deal"
Sheesh. Thanks, MOM!
Off we go and Jaffar points out a few places in the Riffa souk I should check out: a restaurant here, a tailor there, a market over yonder, etc. He also tells me about how funny he thinks it is that expats think it is dangerous, or they are afraid to visit the local areas.
He isn't wrong, we live in a gated community and all are neighbors. We tend to live sheltered middle eastern lives. Which is fine, get in, make that cheddar, and get out. But I am so tired of going to the same hypermarkets and seeing the same imported nonsense. My goal during this past Eid holiday was to get to one of these local spots and check it out, but DTM had other ideas and nearly killed me once and left me stranded another day.
But now was go time!
The next day comes and I get my friend to come over at 3:30 to jump my car right after work. So at 4:15 I ask where he is - hey, we all forget things - and from the time he pulls in it takes about 30 seconds to get the DTM running. And oh baby, does this thing purr.
It purrs like a cat with a lifetime 2-pack a day Marlboro Red smoking habit.
Seriously, doesn't he know those are bad for him?
But it runs. I tell my friend that if I am not back in about 3 hours to come looking for me - I do this because my phone isn't working outside of WiFi. It is a pre-pay phone and it just decided to run out of juice about 6 hours before I left.
Adorable.
But I head to the shop along what they call the Riffa souk. Here, have a look...at a souk:
Portabello Road...Portabello Road...street where the riches of ages are stowed....
That is the street vendor area view, now where I was getting my work done wasn't so extravagant as all that, it was more the auto/mosque part of the souk.
But something was wrong.
I did feel a little out of place, like something was missing as I drove towards the heart of the Riffa souk...and then this happened, and all was right again:
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Now look at the Toyota F1 on the right...that guy is backing into traffic. I followed the front of his car for a block until he veered off the road again. I love this place.
That was what I was missing! The batshit crazy driving!
Ahh, there's my fix.
I am courteous like that.
So I pull up over the curb, around the crowd, past a few half finished cars into the "garage."
Why did I put garage in quotes?
Oh. Because this:
That is the "garage"
The "garage" is really an open spot in front of the Castrol Motor Oil and some apparent fire damage we named: Oil Fire's "Garage" earlier. This shot is after it cleared out some. The praying is going on right on the other side of the car on the right in the lot out front of the small mosque. I am still uncertain as to how tolerant locals are of the white guy in flip flops snapping pictures, so I avoid the religious stuff and also end up with gems like this one:
Oil Fire's "Garage"
I could say I used a filter on that, but I don't think there is a filter entitled "blurry as hell" just yet.
So I pull around, over and in. The guy recognizes me - as he admitted to me because "You're very white, you know? I won't forget you. We don't get white like you, you know?" I thank him for having such a good memory and remind him the battery size and they pull my car into the....
Hahaha no no. They just fix the DTM right there on the curb. They were changing oil on a Nissan Pajero, realigning the front end of a Honda Accord and changing the tire on a flat bed truck, all on the curb. That is how you do it! No pesky bays or...like...tools...
DTM getting its worked on...um...on....
Sometimes it is the subtle things - the things people miss that make all the difference. I know the DTM is a pain in the ass, I know it, but sometimes it is good to know that it doesn't make things difficult just for me...it does this to everyone. Exhibit A:
How many mechanics does it take to change a battery?
It took TWO mechanics way too long to change the battery, because DTM wasn't giving up its dead acid box without a fight. Made me feel good that it took two people, and quite a bit of shouting, to get the battery changed.
It didn't just hate me. It hated everyone equally.
I respect that.
I got the thumbs up - it was done! The DTM was road worthy(ish) again!
Now...on to the most Bahrain pastime of them all...negotiations.
Meet the victim:
- Male
- Approximately 31 years old
- Height - 5'9"
- Weight - 160 lbs
- Hair - Brown
- Eyes - Brown
- Occupation - Owns Oil Fire's "Garage"
- Status - about to get owned
Now, I don't mean to toot my own horn, but I am actually a pretty shrewd negotiator.
Toot.
Toot.
Now, you'll remember that Jaffar negotiated for me from 37 down to 33 dinars, but check out my skills...
**WARNING**
YOU ARE ABOUT TO READ ADVANCED TECHNIQUES.
**DO NOT ATTEMPT**
UNLESS YOU ARE SKILLED IN NEGOTIATIONS AND MIND-CONTROL TACTICS!
Me: Looks like they're done.
Zing! Always start with a zinger!
Victim: Yes sir. You can pay now.
A retort! Snappy as well, I see he is also skilled in the art of the negotiation.
Me: Okay, we talked yesterday - still a deal?
Ha! Check! Good luck, buddy. I own you.
Victim: Yes sir, 32 dinars.
Nice try! Your powers are weak!
Me: I thought it was 33?
Oh I SO have him on the ropes right now!
Victim: It says 32 here, sir.
He tries one last tactic, but it won't work!
Me: Really?
I AM RELENTLESS!
Victim: Yes sir.
Yes! He caved in to my amazing powers!
Me: Awesome.
OH BURNNNNNNN!
Sometimes I feel bad about doing this to people. I know they have families and mouths to feed, but this killer instinct just swells up inside me and I can't hold back. I just hope he recovered and managed to get some sleep. No doubt took the day off to get his confidence back.
Poor guy never saw it coming.
So off I roll in DTM with an extra BD in my pocket. On the way out I pass a local market, and since I was pleased with my mastery of that last situation I decided to skip the hypermarket and shop local.
Everyone, meet NESTO.
The deals are so good the store is blurry!
I forget that I write these blogs and often have to swing back around to get pictures of things. So, ya know, there's that lame excuse for the quality.
NESTO has everything I need. The prices were fair, the people were helpful, although I don't expect they get too many pigmentally challenged people such as myself judging by the looks and shoulder nudges, but they were helpful and the place was everything it could have been. One thing I have discovered here, even at the hypermarket level, is the originality of organization. When I first got to Bahrain, it kind of looked like they just put stuff up wherever they felt like. Now, I have no problem asking why the garbage bags were in the deodorant aisle, or why the dates I bought came from the same place I got my silverware, but it is still a good time to see what you find where. But I am lately noticing a creativity, an originality some would say, in the organization now.
Like this next photo, for instance. If you wanted to cook some noodles, what do you need?
This is next level stuff right here.
That's right. A pot. Well - here they are way ahead of you! If you approach this from the right, you say "Hey! I could use a pot!" and you pick one up. And then the FIRST thing you see is noodles...FOR YOUR NEW POT!
Approach from the left? "Hey! I could use some noodles!" and you pick some up. And then the FIRST thing you see is a pot...FOR YOUR NEW NOODLES!
Clever. I love it.
So if you're ever in Bahrain don't be shy - get out there. People like victim and NESTO are friendly and happy to help however they can.
And just for a laugh, drive there backwards.
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