So, I think to myself: "I'm a strong, independent gal. This will be no problem. My daddy taught me how to change a tire. I can do this!!" So I get out the spare, and the jack, and the thingy that takes the lug nuts off the tire. Well, it turns out that my jack is obviously some sort of pre-world war relic. It's rusted and just won't crank down so that I can slide it under the car. After a lot of trying, I get it low enough. But, because it was so hard to crank down, there is no way to crank it up. Great...
So at this point, I realize I need some assistance - or at least a better jack. My next door neighbor, whom I have been told is an older Canadian gentleman, has been gone since I moved in. But he just came back 2 nights ago and I could hear him in his apartment. Maybe he has a jack! What better way to meet a neighbor than with grease on your hands? So I go up to knock on his door. Keep in mind that I can HEAR him in the apartment. Once I knock, he stops moving and doesn't come to the door. I knock again....nothing.... Ok. Maybe he's in the shower or can't get to the door. So I make my way back to my car and mess with the jack some more. I'm stubborn and refuse to give up!
Well, of course the jack isn't going to budge. So, I decide to try my neighbor again. I hear him in the apartment, I knock on the door, all falls silent, and he NEVER comes to the door. Needless to say, I am NOT a fan of this man that I've never seen...
But wait, I'm not in North Carolina! In Costa Rica, I have a guard on the street! So, I go introduce myself to Juan the guard. And in very broken, mostly incoherent Spanish, I point at the relic in my hands and ask if he has another. The neighbor he's chatting with has one and lets me borrow it. Hooray! I get it to the car, but it is too tall to fit under the car. Juan finds another neighbor with a different jack and that one works!
Yes! Now, I've jacked the car up, removed the lug nuts, and am going to take off the wheel...but it won't budge. SERIOUSLY!? I kick it, poke it with the bar to remove the lug nuts, kick it some more...nothing. I give up on trying to be an independent woman at this point and call my insurance agency. (Thank goodness they have an English option!)
30 minutes later a guy on a motorcycle arrives to change my tire! But then HE can't get the wheel off. He kicks it some more, bangs on it, and then tries to talk to me. So, I call my translator on-call Catalina and she talks to him. He just wanted to make sure I wasn't going to get mad if he kicked it some more. Catalina told him to do whatever he needed to do to get the tire off and I agreed! FINALLY, after lots of elbow grease the tire comes off and I have a spare on it in the blink of an eye! When he got the tire off, he showed me the rather large piece of metal jammed into it. That was the reason for the flat. When he showed it to me, I said a bad word in English, but apparently it translated because he started laughing. Oops! Thank you Mr. Motorcycle Man for saving the day!!
Ok, so now what? Now, I've got to get the tire fixed. My friend Krisya teaches me the phrase "Necesito arreglar la llanta" (I need to fix the tire.) So, this morning, I get up and head out to the tire place in the neighborhood. I'm nervous. How the heck am I going to navigate a tire garage with no Spanish!? But apparently, "necesito arreglar la llanta" is a magical phrase. I got out, said the phrase, and didn't have to speak for the rest of the time. The guy fixed my tire, jacked up the car, changed out the tires, replaced my spare, and sent me on my way! The best part, it was only $4!!! So, I drove away from the tire place very proud of myself and my accomplishment all on my own!
<3,
Amber
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