Monday, September 10, 2012

RC#59: Byways and Highways, Part 3

published in Eastern Economist #446, August 20, 2002

Summer weather may have turned sour, but lots of people are still looking for vacation tips. A couple of weeks ago, I started this story about travelling Ukraine in a car. Everything was fine until my engine stopped on the Zhytomyr bypass at two-thirty in the morning.
            None of our Kyiv friends with cars were able to come out [see RC#58]. A tow to Kyiv was going to cost at least Hr 620, nearly $120 – without even starting on repairs. I passed on the offer. Serhiy, the manager of a cafĂ© where we managed to find shelter and a telephone, agreed.
            “You’d be better off getting the car into Zhytomyr and repairing it there,” he said reasonably. “It won’t cost so much.” He was right, of course. The question was, how? So far, not a single car or truck had stopped to help. Another hour went by. The coffee and tea got colder.
            Just then, we heard a knock at the door. A heavyset man in a dark suit opened the door.
            “Pryvit, Serhiy,” he said.
            I paid no attention to their conversation as I sipped my coagulated coffee.
            “You folks need a little tow?” the man suddenly asked. Serhiy’s morning visitor just happened to manage an CTO, a state car repair shop, in Zhytomyr.
            “I’m heading in right now. I’ll get the boys to come out with a tow.”
            What luck! We thanked Serhiy profusely, paid him for our breakfast, and gathered up our belongings.
            Twenty minutes later, a smallish man in a white Neva pulled up. He hooked up our car with a rope and explained:
            “Steer the car behind me and keep the rope taut.”
            We wound our way down potholed back streets. A couple of times, I got the tension wrong. We ran over the rope, stopped, rolled back. Finally, we reached the CTO.
            “Nah, we don’t do imports. Not engine jobs,” said a guy in greasy overalls. “Not our area.” My heart sank. “But you can try the import place down on the main drag. They do Daewoos for sure.”
            Off we went again. Five minutes later, we turned into the import shop. I went up to the window with the CTO driver.
            “No, we can’t do a Daewoo right now. Our mechanic’s busy,” said an unhelpful man with whiskers behind the request window. “Maybe tomorrow.”
            The CTO guy shrugged his shoulders. He’d done what he could. I paid him his Hr 40 and walked back to my car.
            “Hello, hello?” A young man in a burgundy shirt and navy tie ran up to me. “You have a car that’s broken down?”
            “I think I blew my engine.”
            “And they wouldn’t take you?” he asked incredulously. “Hold on a sec. Let me see what’s going on.”
            I followed him back to the window.
            “What do you mean, ‘Ihor’s working on a Lada.’ We do Daewoos. That’s our business!”
            The young man waved me to follow him through the shop to a back room where engines were rebuilt. There, a sulky young man was carefully taking apart a motor.
            “Ihor, I want you to look at what’s going on with this Daewoo. You can do the Lada later.” He turned to me. “Here’s my mobile number just in case. I’ll be back around five.”
            Ihor reluctantly followed me back to our car. Lifted the hood. Tinkered around. I watched him carefully undo some tubes and connectors.
            “Your water pump’s seized.” He went back to work.
            The water pump? This was the best news I’d heard yet. It couldn’t be a tenth as expensive as a rebuilt engine.
            “How long will it take?” I asked.
            “Not long. You have to get a pump and a belt. I don’t know what we have in stock.”
            Neither, as it turned out. Half an hour later, we were in Ihor’s car driving around Zhytomyr picking up parts. The pump was no problem. The very first store had it. Just looked it up in their catalog, found it on the shelf, and wrote up a bill. Hr 195. That was a darn sight better than the Hr 500 the shop had quoted.
            The belt was another matter. We tried four car parts places. One even offered to order it for the next morning. I passed.
            We drove back to the shop. I went to the accountant to pay Hr 78 for the repair work. “Isn’t there anything we can do to get a belt today?” I asked her.
            “Well, some of our boys are driving back a couple of new cars from Kyiv today. Maybe they can pick up the belt for you.” Several phone calls later, she smiled at me. “I’ve left them the order. They’re due here by five-thirty or six.”
            Ihor had gone back to the Lada engine. Time dripped by. At five o’clock, he informed me that his day was over. I ran to the accountant and said, “Can’t you just ask him to stay on and let him come in later tomorrow?” I pleaded. “We can’t stay overnight for this!”
            Oddly enough, the accountant had the power to do just that. So Ihor went off happily to work on his own car, while we waited for the crew to arrive from Kyiv with our belt.
            Around seven-thirty, the boys finally rolled in. I grabbed the belt and went to the shop to pay for it. Hr 84.
            In less than an hour, Ihor had the pump installed and the belt on. I was so happy to be going home, I gave him a Hr 25 tip.
            Total cost for the whole mess, tip and tow included? Hr 412. About two thirds the cost of a tow to Kyiv…
            I told you this story had a happy ending. Now get out there and drive around Ukraine a little! •
–from the ramblin’ notes of Pan O.

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