20 January 2011

After a few prayers and persistent turns of the key, the engine finally started. I had given up for the night and pushed the car further off the road so I could sleep. But I also really wanted to make it to Posadas.

I had to slow down for a car and this caused the engine to die again. Not wanting a repeat of that and risking the car not being able to start again in the middle of nowhere I decided to pass a semi on a curve. I moved to the left just in time for the oncoming semi I didn’t see to ram my side and send me bouncing into the guardrails. The airbags deployed with a stunning violence knocking me senseless. It was all a blur. The kind of hackneyed blur you always hear about from accident victims. I was very upset that my adventure had come to such a foolish and sudden end. I almost cried on a bare chested truckers shoulder.

The semi that hit me and the semi I was following both stopped a few meters off. The trucker I was following was shaking his head and calling me stupid. I kept asking what we should do. Should we call the police? A line of cars was forming behind my broken automobile which was in the middle of the road. It started right up and I drove it to the dirt. A group of truckers who were parked not far away sleeping had come over to gawk.

One tire was wasted, the other was flat as well. I changed the worst looking tire, drivers side front, and filled the passenger front tire with fix-a-flat. It filled right up but I heard a hissing. I didn’t have much time. I took off as fast as I could. Everyone had abandoned me. No one had called the police. I was on my own and I needed to get to the next police station before my car completely died.

The car was already dead. The passenger side was smashed in, glass was everywhere, and strange clicking noises were emanating from the motor. I couldn’t believe I was driving the car or still alive. I hadn’t even checked my face for cuts and blood and bruises but the shirtless trucker said I looked fine and I didn’t feel any blood running down my chin. I as more concerned with the journey and my car. If the car was going now then I maybe I could still drive it back to the states. All my delusions were exposed when the car finally died and wouldn’t restart. Now I was completely devastated.

I was going to start walking but thought the better of it and was able to flag down a car to call the police. It was the fifth car to pass. While waiting I took out my guitar and played a song called “I’m Glad I’m Not Dead Cus I Should Be”. Made it up on the spot. I should be dead.

The cops came and we loaded up their truck with some of my more important things. While heading into town they got a call that the tow truck was on its way so we turned around back to the car. I gave two of the cops my California license plates. They were gendarmes, national police. There was a lot of small talk I had a bit of a time following.

The tow truck was a pick-up with a platform. We pushed my car onto the platform and headed into town. Alvear. The same place where I had just had my exhaust fixed. Both of the hotels we drove to were full so I slept in the dorm at the Gendarme’s office. One of the cops said he would drive me around to customs in the morning. Customs said all I needed was a detailed note from the Gendarmes detailing the accident and that my car was junk.

I bought a bus ticket to Buenos Aires for 7:45 pm. It’s time to fly back to the states. I’ve been hanging out with the Gendarmes all day. I even had lunch with them. The ladies cooked some rice and meat in the kitchen. There is a small vegetable garden and a few cats. I ended up giving away a lot of things I don’t need, can’t take with me, and shouldn’t have brought in the first place. It was very hard to pare down my possessions and even now I know I have too much stuff.

Aside from the pain in the left side of my neck, I don’t feel any hurt or pain from the accident.

In Alvear the aduana is right on the Rio Uruguay which separates Brazil and Argentina. There was a ferry floating a single car across to Argentina. I took a picture of the skyline, the steeple poking through the trees. This is the closest I will come to Brazil.

There's Brazil on the other side of the river

I walked to the bus station around 5:30 tired of sitting in the Gendarmes office all day. I had watched two movies on their T.V., Catch Me If You Can and some skateboard movie with Hilary Duff. I took out my guitar to play and the guy running the ticket booth came out to listen. He also played pretty well. All of a sudden his friend sped up, got out of his car, and began playing samba and singing. He was excellent. A girl in a sundress rode by on a scooter. The sun was bright. Two horses were wandering around town and had started grazing near the street. Two children from next door came out to listen to the music.

After the musician left, Edgar, the Gendarme who had provided so much assistance showed up with his girlfriend. The girl in the sundress was with them. She took several pictures with me. In one she was holding my guitar. She wanted me to play some Bon Jovi. I told her I didn’t know any. She and Edgar’s girlfriend were sipping maté brewed with cold orange juice. I had a sip too. Before they left Priscilla, that was the young girl’s name, said, “I love you.” I said, “Te amo.” Everyone had a laugh. No one else stopped by to talk or play guitar.