The car as a means of transportation

                The car as a means of transportation
               
               
As, Ostap Bender, the protagonist of a long-ago Russian movie, once said: “A car is not a luxury, but a means of transportation!”
The other day, I was driving on the highway, and remembered one episode from my life related to cars.
I'll start from the beginning. Before coming to America, our family could not even dream of a car. We got to work and downtown by public transportation, and getting to the school where I worked was as easy as crossing my backyard.
And so, here we are in our small town of Columbia, the capital of South Carolina, in which there is almost no public transportation—buses travel certain routes, far from our house. The money from the sale of our apartment was enough to only buy two old cars. So, Kim and Vlad started driving them, while I walked on foot, carrying my groceries in buggies from the store. This was not easy, considering the summer heat at over 100;F!
I quickly got fed up with this pastime and decided to look for a job that would be up my alley. I was hired at a daycare as a nanny, although in English, these employees are called teachers. I was flattered, as though I was continuing to work in my profession! How nice! I had “grown up,” in my eyes—I’d arrived in America, at a respectable age and with no knowledge of the language, and suddenly became a teacher! Wow!
But in Columbia, you cannot get to work on foot or by bus. I needed a car (that I could not drive!).
But then, we found an offer of an inexpensive, Mazda minivan, which could all of our family there! We bought this car with pleasure, and my husband, Kim, gave me his American Plimus—red with velvet seats—which was not new, but in decent condition.
I had the car, but who will drive it? And so begins a new story about my learning how to drive—having to get an American driver’s license! I remember that I even complained to my son, Sasha, that his dad was making me drive on narrow streets where opposing traffic was very close! The men of my family explained to me that this always happens—people go about their business, in their directions. We took our grandson Zhenya’s toy cars and acted out how to behave at intersections and how to read and interpret the various signs.
Finally came the first day of my driving independently. At the time, we were living in a two-story house, on the first floor. I came out, all so proud of myself—but there was nobody on the street, no one admiring me. Well, I thought, I’ll show everyone the amazingness of driving a car! I sat down in the driver’s seat and remembered just in time that I needed to buckle my seat belt. I turned the ignition, everything worked (thank God!), put my foot on the brake—and off I went! Only I went not in reverse, but forward, right into the windows of the first floor of the house, where our neighbors lived. “What should I do?” I thought. I frantically slammed on the brake, and the car stopped—right into the bushes in front of the windows! Somehow, I reversed out of the bushes and still had time to get to work at the kindergarten. Since then, I remembered that, to leave this parking lot, the car must be in reverse, not drive! But my first experience was not easy! I would drive by myself and carefully look both ways, so as not to accidentally bump into other cars!
Although once, it happened (damn it!) at a 4-way intersection. I confidently drove ahead, and the car to my right did also!
I expected the driver of that car to stop, but alas… he continued on and we collided—I hit his side door with my fender! I had to repair his car and mine!
Another time, I was in an unpleasant situation when the brakes of my Plimus stopped working—and, without stopping, I travelled across the road. To my relief, there was nary a single car in front of me. I was scared and nervous, and will never forget this!
A car is not a luxury. What is a luxury is the means to operate it.
Another anecdote. A man was hugging his car farewell, kissing its hood and doors. He starts crying, and then sobbing. Someone nearby asks, “Are you selling it?” "No,” he replies, “my wife got her driver’s license!”
And so, as I was driving the other day on the highway, I remembered another of my adventures. I do not remember why, but one morning, I was sent to downtown for some documents. I completed the assignment and drove to my kindergarten in the car which I still had not mastered. I put the documents into a folder, which I put in the trunk, shut the door, and drove off! Just as soon as I’d gotten onto on the highway, the trunk opened! I couldn’t see anything behind me—and I was afraid to stop, the cars were travelling fast and were overtaking me! Anyway, I reached my workplace all in a sweat and nervous! Ugh!
So gradually, I gained experience driving, and when I bought the brand new Mazda minibus things were much better. Since then, twenty years have passed, but these memories have survived.
I have already quoted proverbs about the car—they are pretty well-known to everyone. One day, I decided to read Vladimir Kunin's book, Journey to the Other World. And suddenly, I read, “A Jewish husband is not a luxury, but a means of transportation!” [Ed. Note: Russian, non-Jewish women would marry Jewish men so that they could leave their countries, because Jewish men were allowed to travel to many places.]
For some, it was a luxury, but I had no other option—for me, the car remained a means of transportation!
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