Goodbye Old Friend

1998 Mitsubishi Space Wagon

       I sold the car tonight. Our faithful and trouble-free companion for the past 11 years. K. put up the ad today for la voiture, and by evening I already had several heavy breathing, heavily accented phone calls from men who wanted to look at "her" and hand over the money. It made me feel like I was in a slightly sleazy Cold War spy novel. A Bulgarian chef desperate for a car came by to look her over tonight. He inspected carefully, verified that there was a spare tire (I didn't even know there was a spare tire, under the car--this is how ignorant I am), and ran his fingers over her in places I bet she had never been touched before (in the little holes in the hubcaps). A short test drive, he said Yes, paid a deposit, and we shook hands.

       It's a relief that it sold so quickly, one less thing to deal with, but I'm also a little sad. Even though I don't even really like cars to begin with, there's more than a decade of memories bundled up with that car, ski trips, weekend outings, frantically trying to entertain screaming babies strapped into car seats, then fast forward a decade to listening to Agatha Christie mysteries, all of us guessing whodunnit.

Naroibi skyline.

       Now, the reason why we're selling the car, and the real reason I have been such a blogging sloth recently, is that I've been dealing with our impending move to Nairobi, Kenya. July 9 is the deadline. This weekend we head to Nairobi for a few days of house and school hunting. I know practically nothing about Nairobi other than the following: lots of petty crime and gated compounds, great Indian food, wonderful temperate climate year round, stunning wildlife and landscapes nearby. By next Wednesday I'll know a lot more, I hope.