Looking Pitiful

from Elliott
I am not sure if I do it on purpose or just a subconscious response of mine. Either way, somehow in difficult situations we often have people come to our assistance. It is usually preceded with the look you give a lost dog or someone who is clearly out of their element.

It happened again the other day. Finally after much effort and misfires we took delivery of our 'new' used car. The dealer had said that he had taken care of all the paperwork. I soon found out that he had taken care of all the paperwork he was going to take care of. I had quite a bit to do on my end. So 45 km up the coast we went to the government seat with three pages of information. I had been told that all I needed to do was take those along with my passport.

Well it wasn't quite that easy. When we got there at 8:00am there was already a line but the line consisted of people sitting on a bench. The information officer instructed me that I needed to fill out some additional forms - four to be exact! I got to work; they wanted to know VIN numbers, engine numbers (seems like people steal engines here) , etc.

I then found out that my passport was only good enough to get a "Traffic Identification Number" My head was spinning at this point when I asked the helpful agent how I would get that. She said I would need to fill out another document and attach two photos. Where would I get those? "Go to Jay" was the response. "I don't know Jay, where is he?" I said. "Down the block on the left" I am sure by this point my eyes must have crossed and she immediately took pity on me, a confused foreigner. She came from behind her glassed booth and resurfaced at the other end of the room and motioned for me to follow her to the street where she then pointed down the street.

I went down the street amidst the throngs of people in the local market. There were lots of people having Jay take there picture - Jay had a job for life! When I went back, the agent immediately called me up and completed the process. For 180 Rand (about $25) I had registered my car. That seemed like a deal until I asked but what about the plates. She said, "Oh we don't do that. You have to go to the car plate dealer."

Down the street again, he is actually a locksmith that doubles making license plates with the number that the registration agent had given me. Once I had given him the appropriate paperwork he went in the back to make the plates. I looked in the back looking for the prison inmates that I had assumed made license plates just like in my home state of Texas. Not here, this was privatization at its best! For just 200 rand (about $29) I was in and out in 15 minutes!

Back to my original thought. I seem to attract sympathy when faced with challenging processes to jump through. Maybe it is the 'deer in the headlights' look or a clueless visitor look. I don't know if I am doing it on purpose but it sure does help navigating difficult waters!