The Vehicle Hunt - Part 2

Sold. The vehicle we had wavered back and forth about and finally decided to buy had sold just when we made up our mind. Ripped from our grasp.

We were disappointed but figured that there must be a reason this vehicle was taken from us -- perhaps there was a better one just around the corner.

So we kept looking for this better car.

We looked at a late 90's Rav4, which looked nice, but upon closer inspection we became convinced that this was not the car for us.

Keep in mind that in Africa, cars are not considered in need of repair until they will no longer move. So strange banging and clattering noise emanating from the engine compartment are of no concern whatsoever. In fact, the seller may dutifully inform you that the angry sounds show that the car is really, really powerful.

Labour is cheap, and paint is nearly as cheap. So often times you will find freshly repainted cars for sale. This Rav4 had been painted, of all colours, black. We asked the man why on earth he would paint a car in Africa black. He muttered something sheepishly and declined to comment, but the consensus we have reached is that black equals luxury, even if you will roast alive under the scorching blaze of the sun.

While a fresh coat of paint is nice to look at, we found you're probably better off getting a vehicle that has not been repainted, as paint is also seen as a way to hide any critical blemishes. Like rust. Most cars we looked at suffered from serious rust issues, but rather than dealing with the rust and plastering the problem spots, the rust had simply been painted over.

As mentioned before, details are not the forte of the locals. We were informed that this Rav4 was 4x4. It wasn't even all wheel drive. A quick look at the dash or under the rear wheels could have shown that. Either the seller thought that we would be blissfully unaware or was somehow ignorant of the matter himself. Sort of a scary thought.

So we declined the Rav4, lurching us back into the realm of no vehicle and no leads.

We racked our brains all weekend and after a good dose of kicking ourselves for not buying the Land Cruiser when we first had the chance, we decided to go back to the Port first thing Monday morning.

To our surprise, we did indeed find several candidates, including Land Cruisers, right off the bat. But just as with our previous Port experiences, what you see on the outside doesn't always reflect under the hood. One of the Land Cruisers, an 86 LJ70, had a decent engine, but lacked a single VIN number. All VIN plates and numbers were removed and scratched off. Hmm. But the price was right. Too right...

A second Land Cruiser also had the right price and looked great from far away. But the magic of paint only works from distances over 10 feet. Upon closer inspection it became very evident that there was lots and lots and lots of rust that had been simply painted over. The interior was also infested with black mould. No idea how that happens.



Looks good? Step a little closer and you'll see loads of rust and an interior covered in black mould. Yeech.

The prices we were being quoted were considerably less than in previous weeks -- and I'm sure it was because Natalie was along -- but with all the work that would still be required to make these vehicles safe, the cost was rapidly increasing well above the cost of the now-sold '87 Land Cruiser.

I'll admit it, old Land Cruisers are not the most attractive of vehicles. They're boxy, uncomplicated, and don't have power steering or air conditioning. So naturally, Natalie started paying more attention to the other prime candidate for us: a Rav4. Far more curvy, a lot newer and quite a bit more comfortable.

But one mishap with a Rav4 in one of the Port lots made Natalie, who was completely hooked on the idea of a Rav4, refuse to buy one.

One of the dealers was proudly showing Natalie the comfortable drivers seat as I listened to the engine. Unsatisfied, I told Natalie, who was sitting behind the wheel to turn the car off, which she did. After she got out, the dealer put the car into first gear, since the e-brake did not appear to be functional. We continued to look at the car for a few moments, just to be polite.

The dealer, who was now sitting in the passenger seat, reached over to remove the key, which became stuck. Instead of cautiously wiggling it, he recklessly flicked the key back and forth -- into the on position, causing the car -- which was still in first with the faulty e-brake on, to leap forward. Several workers jumped to safety, narrowly avoiding crushed limbs, but the car proceeded to plow into another parked car. The polished plastic bumper splintered and cracked, the hood bent out of shape and the red-faced dealer frantically explained that the damage was no problem and was easy to fix and the car was still a good deal for us.



Natalie turned to me with a solemn look on her face and said, "we are never going to get a Rav4. If a 5km per hour collision does this to the front end, imagine a highway collision."

I agreed wholeheartedly, making sure to mention that Land Cruisers have a real steel bumper.

Even though the Land Cruisers we saw were real pieces of work, we called Robert and asked him to look over them with us, and he agreed to do so on Tuesday.

Frustrated, but optimistic that one of the lemons we saw may turn out to be OK after all, we fell asleep knowing that Tuesday would be another day with many more cars to look at.

I awoke to my phone ringing. It was Robert.

"Hello," I mumbled, expecting him to say he could not make it to the Port after all.

"Remember that Land Cruiser I showed you? The one I said was very good, but you did not like because it was too old and too expensive? The one that you then decided you would like, but it had just sold?"

"Yes Robert," I said. What I meant was, 'really, you don't have to rub it in. We get it. We missed a great opportunity.'

"The man who bought the car could not find all of his money. The car is unsold."

Merry Christmas!

Well, Christmas is nearly over.

But to be honest, there were only a few glimpses of Christmas for us. Everybody here in Togo gets all decked out for Christmas with laser beam artificial Christmas trees, way too many strings of lights, inflatable life-sized santa's sold by street vendors and BoneyM's 'Mary's Boy Child' playing on repeat day and night.



The Column du Paix, all lit up for Christmas. And we wondered why there was no power to our street lights...

Despite the festive atmosphere, there's no smell of the Christmas tree, none of Oma's amazing pastries, no turkey, no way to sit on the couch and just hang out with family..

Thankfully, there is Skype, so we've been able to stay in touch, but of course, it's still not quite the same.. So until we can spend a Christmas with you all again... know that we miss being near to you all. You mean the world to us. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and know that we wish we could celebrate with you!

Just so you know we're not entirely wallowing in despair: we are super grateful for some dear friends we've made and were able to spend Christmas with. Furthermore, to our surprise, there were some great Christmas concerts and even a German Christmas eve service! And the wonderful parcels from family and friends that arrived just in time for Christmas were also wonderful.

The Vehicle Hunt - Part 1

You may remember we were dissuaded from buying a motorcycle after a series of not-so-nice motorcycle related events.

So, the hunt for four wheels began.

First off, it is important to note that here in Togo there are no online classifieds -- or reliable old-fashioned classifieds either, for that matter.

And as we soon found out, used car lots are not the place to buy a car.

One afternoon, Natalie, another teacher at the school who speaks French and I trekked out to a conglomeration of vehicles parked outside the vehicle registration office. Dealers will buy cars from the port, register them and sell them right outside the office.



We made several observations rather quickly.

Firstly, cars here are EXPENSIVE. North American or European blue book values mean nothing. Don't blink twice if asked to pay 10,000 USD for a rusted, battered mid-90's Toyota 4runner. Car values are determined by the availability of parts and how easy they are to repair. For example, Toyota is more expensive than Ford, Mercedes or BMW because parts are readily available and mechanics know how to fix Toyotas.

Secondly, dealers don't only avoid telling you faults; they will bold-faced lie when you show them a problem. The smoke pouring from the engine compartment moments after you fire up the vehicle? It is only because they changed the oil just before you came, and happened to spill some. There is oil/other engine fluids seeping and bubbling from engine block orifices? No problem, the vehicle will be just fine. That is normal. Stupid American knows nothing about cars. Trust us, this car is very strong and will last forever. But for you, special price. Only 3,800,000 CFA (approx. $7,500 USD.)

Needless to say, we enjoyed the experience of looking at the car conglomeration, but vowed not to buy one there.

Which left two options. The Port and Robert.

Now, The Port of Lomé is full of vehicles of all shapes and sizes. Numerous dealers (most who happen to be Lebanese) have massive storage lots crammed full of Mercedes', Reneaults, Peugeots, Fords, and most any other brand imaginable. These cars, I am told, are often the 'rejects' from North America and Europe that have failed emissions testing or were police seizures. I've even seen a few with VIN plates removed and any identifying numbers scratched off.

And should you find a vehicle you like, the price you will be quoted will likely be quite lucrative. But there is a catch. Cars in the port lots have not had their import tax/port fee paid. And at 52%, the tax makes the price of a car quickly skyrocket.

Furthermore, the mechanics at the port are even more crafty than those selling cars outside the registration office. We've been told that several people have had experiences where they will pour some sort of syrup in the engine to mask any rattling sounds. Of course, it will hold together for the test drive around the small lot, but once you pay up and take it out of the lot and drive a little faster -- the engine seizes. And there is no Better Business Bureau. Your loss.

The last option we had available to us is a mechanic named Robert. Over time, many of the teachers at the school have asked him to help them find a car, and he has developed a reputation for being able to find the car you want at quite a good price. As a bonus, he guarantees the vehicles for 6 months and takes care off all the government paperwork to boot.

So we consulted Robert and asked him to find us our vehicle: a two-door 4x4, preferably Toyota. Preferably mid-90's.

A few days later, with our lack of French and his limited English, he informed us that he had found us what we were looking for. He described it as being very much like another teachers' vehicle -- which was a 94 Land Cruiser Prado.

It was at this point we learned another quirk of local culture: prices are not discussed on the phone, at all. But we were told it was within our requested price range.

So the next afternoon, we agreed to meet at 3:00 at the school. At 4:45, he showed up with the vehicle. It was definitely not a 1994 model. This is another cultural quirk. Car models and manufacture years mean nothing. If it looks sort of like something else, it is.

In fact, this one was a 1987 Land Cruiser LJ70. Despite the age, the kilometres were low, and the engine was in remarkable condition. But Natalie had informed me that in no way was she interested in a vintage vehicle. Besides, the asking price was at the top of our range -- and this was a really, really, old car.



Disappointed, we looked a few other cars in and around town, but nothing but a bunch of lemons showed up. We reassured ourselves that surely, by Christmas we will find something.

Robert informed us that he had bargained the price of the vehicle down nearly a million CFA. It was lucrative, but still felt a little too much for our naive taste.

I went back to the Port with Robert to look at some of the other Land Cruisers we had seen, but all had either serious mechanical issues or were even more expensive than the Land Cruiser LJ70 he had shown us. We began to rethink our decision. Maybe the oldie-but-a goodie was the way to go.

Besides, Christmas was just over a week away. And we had another complication to consider: the potential devaluation of the currency, rumoured to take place on January 1. If we were holding on to millions of CFA, we could stand to lose a lot of money. Furthermore, the cost of cars would skyrocket.

And after discussing it with many of our friends one evening, we decided that though the price was still a little uncomfortable, it was in our best interest to buy something now. And a vehicle that was easy to fix, with very few electronics (the radio is the most complicated thing in it) and a great track record was the way to go.

So we called Robert and informed him that we would like to purchase the 1987 Land Cruiser after all.

"Oh, Mr. Daniel. The Land Cruiser was sold in the last hour."

Unique

There are certain things we experience on a daily basis that are very much uniquely Togolese and definitely 'African.'

Supermarkets playing hits from the last decade with polished flooring and polite cueing at the deli counter are a far cry from the public 'marche's' here. You need vegetables or a bolt of fabric? Go to a market. You need electrical sockets or overpriced tourist trinkets? Go to a market. Used underwear or wheel barrows? Go to a market. Films still in theatre but somehow being sold on DVD? Go to a market. Live sea crabs next to a place selling used luggage? Go to a market. And you can do it all while being crushed alive by 2,000 strangers and just as many insane moto drivers eager to take out your knees. And whatever you do, don't step in puddles -- remember, there are no public washrooms.

African time. A concert is slated to start at 7:00pm? It probably won't get underway until 8:00 at the earliest. Church is supposed to end by noon? Maybe you'll get home by 3:00pm because the service doesn't end until 2:30pm.

Storms sneak up on you. What you thought was on the horizon will be on top of you in 2 minutes flat. And then it will rain sideways for good measure.

Night guards that sleep all night instead of guarding. Here the houses are assigned one night guard each. Many of these night guards are university students who are working to pay their way through school. Because of that if you drive around at night you will see many of them sleeping. Not napping but full out horizontally sleeping in front of your house.

Huge lines of ants in your kitchen or bathroom or living room or in the electrical sockets of your house. Just to comfort you, you may find out that they also live in the walls of your house.

Little children. Everywhere, all the time. Here they shout out 'yovo, yovo bonsoir' when they see you. Or they run away screaming because they have been told (usually by a parent in a moment of admonishment) that the Yovo will kidnap them.

Siesta time. Usually reserved for 1-3 in the afternoon when it is the most hot out, but given the chance, anyone will sleep anywhere. Even if they are the gas station attendant, selling veggies or are supposed to be building a road. Just chill and take a nap.

Substitutions for real things

When packing the 6 suitcases of our earthly belongings in preparation for the move to Togo, there were a few things we really thought we would miss. But, thanks to technology, great supermarkets and some pleasant surprises, here are a few things we actually don't have to live without.

Family & Friends - Going a long time without seeing friends and family is tough, but having Skype sure makes a whole lot easier! The other night we had the chance to talk to both our sets of parents and even the grandparents all within 1 hour, even though they live in different provinces and were on the other side of the world.

Current North American TV programs. We are able to stay up to date by accessing streaming TV thanks to websites like sidereel and watchseries. Due to the slow internet connection shows take a few hours to load but we can usually watch them the day after they have aired back home. Some of our favorites right now include Canada's Worst Driver 7, Glee, NCIS La and The Mentalist.

Oma or mom's homemade canned peaches. Here peaches in a can taste gross. They are almost salty tasting. At omas house or moms house canned peaches are available even throughout the winter months and they taste great with ice cream. The other day we went to the import grocery store and found this peach compote in a can. Not having high hopes we bought one can of it and one week later, it was empty! It tastes almost like home and goes great on toast in yogurt and in smoothies. We'll have to try some of the other fruit compotes from this company.

Cheese. Since Togo is a former French colony there are many French foods one can find at the import grocery stores called Ramco and Champion. Smoked Gouda, cheddar, mozzarella, Swiss, parmesan, it's all here.

Nutella. D loves this stuff and I have weakness for it as well especially on freshly ripened finger bananas from the market.

Fresh bread. White bread, whole wheat bread, baguettes, flat bread, rye bread it all exists here. There are bakeries that sell this stuff as well as bicycle riding vendors who will drive by your house every morning with fresh bread in the boxes on the back of their bike.

Root beer. Its one of our favorite types of pop. While there are rumours of its existence at the US Embassy, we found it locally! The other day we were in Ramco and noticed this can of pop which claimed to be Sarsi flavour. It was imported from Malaysia and Sarsi turns out to be Short for sarsaparilla -- root beer! We are not ashamed to admit that we are hoarding quite a bit of the stuff.

Swimming. The strong current in the ocean makes swimming impossible or very, very dangerous at the beach. But there are plenty of places with swimming pools overlooking the ocean. You have to pay about $2-$5 but it is worth it. At the club the school owns D and I get to swim for free and, yes, it's lovely.