We hopped in the car and went to visit a friend yesterday. While we were there, these guys pulled up to the house and asked if anyone would like their car washed. What a bonus! Children play; mom’s talk; car washed - all in one shot. The task master in me was thrilled.

Car washing is a bit of an art in Costa Rica. Almost everyone has clean cars. Since there’s no salt on the roads, most cars retain a pretty good look for many years. How some rickety old trucks spewing out black smoke or those wobbly Datson’s with the taped together trunk pass inspection leaves me only to wonder what goes on during those RTVE* visits. Cars are so expensive here - usually at least 1/3 to 1/2 more than what you’d pay in the States, so most people take really good care of the vehicles they’ve got. Usually, my security guard makes a few extra colones by washing our cars. But, since he’s out of town, I jumped at the chance to get the sand and goo off so I could load the kids into the car without getting my clothes full of it too.

After a couple of hours, Addison was getting tired, so I packed the group up; got them strapped in their seats; started the car. I put the car in drive. It didn’t move. I’ve had the transmission go out on cars before and it is a dreadful thing - very expensive. Then when I put it in Park, it made a horrific clicking noise as if the motor was edging off the axle and about to fall on the ground. In less than ten seconds, I saw myself car-less, schlepping kids and car seats in taxis while I waited for weeks to get the transmission fixed. I saw money flying out the window.

I looked at the shiny, finely detailed black leather of the car and noticed the 4×4 knobby thing. It looked like it was in a different spot than usual because while driving, I can store all sorts of coins in front of it. Now, there was no spot for change. At that moment, my friend’s father came up to the window. Coco unclipped her seat-belt and tried to entertain Addison. There are three buttons with a diagram and a red dot on them. I had no idea what those buttons are for and in five years I’ve driven this car car around Costa Rica. I don’t like touching buttons I don’t understand. What if that clicking sound got worse? What if I make it worse? My car is in the “it’s-coming-up-on-twenty-years-old-and-we-need-to- keep-it-running” category. Though I haven’t resorted yet to duct tape, I am careful with this old girl my daughter has named Black Bear.

I called my “soon-to-be-ex” and he had no idea what to do. He added a little bit at the end, which further added to my angst: if you drive it in the wrong 4×4 mode, you could break (I forget what he called it) and it’s about an $8000 repair. Great. I was on my own. I took out the manuel; it was in Spanish; it’s a German car. I walked over to my friend’s father - I’m not sure why I gravitate to men in these situations - but I needed someone to bounce off. My friends and I double checked our Spanish. The G must have been a word in German because it didn’t match with the description. The N we all nailed as Neutral - must be the same in all three languages. And the S didn’t mean stop because it was correct 4×4 gear to drive in.

I pushed the knob hard and got it shifted to S. The clicking sound went away, we waved, buckled up, and head for home. Now I know what that knobby thing that held my coins is for; I had a good morning with friends; the kids played; and I drove home with a clean car. Check it all off the list - and more.

*RTVE is the name of the inspection all cars have to go through every year in Costa Rica.