The Search for the Perfect Car

So I want to dedicate this post to all those young women out there who are looking into buying a car. Unless you know exactly what you want, this process can be really daunting and confusing. So this is how I did it, I hope it helps you! 

The search for the prefect car was definitely not easy. I needed a car that would be reliable enough for me to mission the pothole-ridden roads of rural Mpumalanga, and that was affordable and economical as I was financing it myself (although my dad did help out with a deposit).

The options seemed endless, and the biggest decision was whether to buy  brand new or used. Eventually, I settled on a brand new car since I expected to be putting quite a lot of mileage on it in the first two years and I really wanted something on motor-plan! Also, you never really know what previous owners have done to the car. Even a year-old Avis car is still a risk (I know people who do wheely's with their rental cars!) I really couldn't stand the thought of being stranded on a lonely Mpumalanga road at night. Roadside assist or no roadside assist!

So once I'd decided on a brand new car, the question was, which one?
My budget was around R150 000. This proved to be a little low, so I restructured my expenses and savings to allow for a more realistic amount of R200 000.  Also, I wanted to buy the car, not lease it, and I plan on trading it in after 2-3 years. So trade-in value and depreciation was definitely a priority.

So here were the options: Polo Vivo, Toyota Auris, Mazda 2, Ford Fiesta, Hyundai i20 and the Honda Jazz.
I visited all the dealerships and test-drove all the cars (save for the Polo which I decided early on to exclude due to it being a high-risk for hi-jackings). I tried to stay away from European makes such as the Renault's and the Peugeots as in SA, the parts for these slightly more exotic models are hard to come by and rather expensive!  And here's what I thought of them:

Toyota Auris: This was a magnificently average car. Its drive was slow and smooth and the car looked as perfectly boring as it was. Apart from that, it was incredibly overpriced and the fact that Toyota's squeaky-clean reputation had recently taken a dive into a smelly pit didn't help much. Compared to its predecessor the Run X, which was really cool, this car was a real drag.

Mazda 2. This was a cute,zippy little car. It won car of the year in 2008 (followed by the Ford Mondeo and Mercedes-Benz C-Class) and I actually liked it quite a lot at first. It looks really great, but is admittedly quite small. The problem is,apart from its good looks, there isn't much else going for this car. Rumors got to me that the car was quite troublesome and gave lots of problems so I decided that it wasn't the car for me.

That left me with my final three choices: the Fiesta, the I20 and the Jazz. In no particular order:

The Ford Fiesta: Now I really liked this car. I liked the drive, I liked the interior, I loved the look. But there was just one thing I really hated: the NAME! Who would call a car a Fiesta? What were they thinking? It dropped the 'cool-factor' of the car quite a few notches, although admittedly, I did start to see these cars everywhere. And yes, they did look super cool! The only troublesome thing was that its profile was very low. On the bumpy Mpumalanga roads, with all the profiles, I didn't think it would do very well...

The Hyundai I 20: From the second I saw this car, I loved it. It was sturdy, reliable and safe. It was economical and affordable. The dealership threw in loads of great extras such as a 5 year/100 000km warranty and a special combo (smash-and-grab windows, paint scratch insurance and dent insurance) for only R100 a month (financed). The car had great resale (book-value after 2-3 years).  To be honest, I was absolutely ready to buy this car. Sure, the drive was a little machine-like, but compared to the pansy-like clutch of the Auris, it was refreshing. The only issue was this: I couldn't get the finance! Due to me not having a credit history to speak of (duh!) the bank declined my request! What?!! I'm a graduate engineer for God's sake! If I cant buy a car of this price, how can anyone? The finance woman at Hyundai told me to go out and buy some clothes on my Edgar's account. It turns out that she was just screamingly useless at her job, which cost her dealership the sale. Sorry for you, Hyundai!

The last dealership I visited was Honda. I went on Xmas eve but they had already closed, so I had to come back after I got my license drama sorted out. See Rhea Gets a Driver's License. Still, this was really strange since the Honda Civic has been my (short-term) dream-car for ages now! (My long term dream car is a Porshe 911) I guess I just wasn't keen on the idea of settling for a Jazz when what I really wanted was a Civic. And the old Jazz was just so small and unappealing (apart from the fact that I was in an accident in one last year) that I was quite put off. But my god, was I wrong!

Honda Civic hatch

The Honda Jazz: This is undeniably a good-looking car. Its classy and much more solid than the (admittedly plastic-like) exterior of the I 20! When I got behind the wheel, I knew that this was different to the other cars I'd seen. Everything about it, the attention to detail, the little things, (10 cup holders is a bit excessive, but is useful!) just put the Jazz a cut above the rest. The most amazing feature by far was the incredibly large boot, still leaving enough space in the backseat. The back seats fold down forwards and backwards at the lightest touch and the clever mechanical designs got my engine revving even before I'd turned on the ignition! Apart from the sexy physique, the resale was about R10 000 above book-value and maintenance wasn't an issue. Even though Honda parts are hard to come by, these cars DO NOT BREAK.

On the test-drive, I fell in love. I must say, a lot had to do with the sale's woman, a wonderful old bird from Rustenburg, complete with BIG hair and RED nails and the sweetest personality! She was just brilliant, and took her time to make my experience with Honda simply fabulous. Everyone in the dealership, from the sale's staff to the finance lady were equipped to help me, a young, female, first-time buyer, buy this car. It was so easy, so fast and when I picked up my car less than a week later (along with a large bouquet of flowers and champaign and gifts from the dealership), I was beamingly happy and very satisfied! I am so in love with my Jazz, its spunky and cute but a real performer when it needs to be (as it proved on the long drive to Steelpoort). In fact, it reminds me a lot of myself!

My Car. This is the exact colour and tint. (without the body-art and the sunroof that is) 

So thats my tale. The car is still awesome, but VERY dirty and every time I want to get it cleaned it rains...:( Sunshine where are you? My Jazzy jazzy jazz needs a make-over!

Updates Part 2-The License

Rhea (FINALLY) Gets her Driver's License 

I know what you're thinking: how can she have a degree and no driver's license? What kind of Engineer cant drive? Well, I'll have you know, I can drive, and have for a very long time! It's just driver's tests that I cant do...well, not anymore apparently. I got my license on my third attempt at the Greytown License Center. And no, I did NOT bribe the instructor...although I had R200 in my pocket just in case (not that I was going to use it!) I passed this time without rolling or climbing curbs or anything! But as is the usual way my life goes, there was drama. (There had to be!) 

PC practicing his straight-drive

during my driving lesson

My test was scheduled for the 31st December: New Years Eve. I had asked the lady to book me on another day, telling her that if I failed, I didn't want it to ruin the New Years Eve celebrations for me. But of course being the bureaucrat that she was, she couldn't help making my life difficult. "There ther-ty ferst", she said in her  heavy Zulu accent. So PC (Prince Charming) and I drove the two hour drive into the countryside the 30th and spent the night with family I have there. I go for one last driving lesson before the test, in a dodgy parking lot which the driving school happened to be sharing with goat vendors (Poor goats, destined to become New Years Eve feasts!) and swarms of flies. I pitch up at the testing station and lo and behold: they are closed. Of course they are closed! Its New Years Eve for God's sake! It turns out that I'd completely misheard the bureaucrat. She had said, 'There therd of ther ferst', and not, 'Ther ther-ty ferst' after all! Sigh...life goes on.

It didn't help that various car dealerships in Durban were all waiting (like the vulture scum they are) for confirmation that I'd got my license so they could go ahead and process my car finance! But yes, I had to drive all the way back to Durban...and all the way back to Greytown again 3 days later...But I did it, and I passed. I love leaving everything to the very last minute, just for kicks! (not really)

Updates Part 1-The Degree

After a long 5 years, relaxing at Camps Bay Beach before the 

Goldfish Submerged Summer concert

Wow, its been a whole month since I've blogged! Naughty me! Firstly, I cant believe I used the phrase 'motion in the ocean'. Secondly, there is just SO much to blog about, I just don't know where to start! Should I dedicate this post to the mad fiasco it was getting my license and buying a car the same week I had to pack up and move to Steelpoort, Mpumalanga (a rural village in the middle of nowhere!). Or should I instead tell you about the trip itself, complete with all the tears that ensued? Or maybe I should talk about why, one week late, I am in Johannesburg looking for apartments?

Okay, lets start right at the beginning: my graduation...

Rhea Gets a Degree

So I managed to get my crazy family together in Cape Town once again for my graduation ceremony. For once, things ran pretty smoothly! I had a beautiful dress, but even with the killer heels, I didn't make it to Prince Charming's shoulders! Not many of the (very few) girls wore full-length gowns, but I loved my dress. I even got my hair and make-up done. It really was my night in the spotlight and it was simply fabulous.  The gown and hood were a little ridiculous, but I really enjoyed wearing them. We all were seated in neat rows, the nervous excitement in the room was so thick you could taste it. We were all just making jokes about our lecturers on stage in front of us and trying to not laugh.  

I'm an Engineer! A real life Engineer!

When my name was called, all I could think about was not falling flat on my face on stage. I had the perfect combo for falling: long dress, high stiletto platforms, baggy gown, stairs, cameras, tons of people, the Vice-Chancellor...A real recipe for a classic 'Rhea-Disaster'.  Come to think of it, that might actually have probably been the most fitting end to this degree, knowing me...But thankfully I didn't. I tried to walk super slowly, holding my head up really high and just be graceful (a virtue I wasn't blessed with). But of course, I ended up walking too slowly and causing the guy behind me more nervous twitching than necessary.

When we all had our degrees in hand, the VC asked us all to stand and wave them at our parents and families for the sacrifices they'd made to get us to that point. Then we had to do the same for our lecturers (it got a bit lame after awhile I admit)...The guy next to me pretended his cylinder was a bazooka and 'shot it' at our least favourite lecturer (He Who Shall Not be Named)...and then it was all over.

That night, I dragged my sleepy Prince out for one last night out with a few friends on Long Street. We drank and talked long into the night, reminiscing about our classes, lecturers, assignments that almost killed us and generally good old stories from the past 4 (and in some cases 5) years. It felt surreal, it still does a little. We were engineers and could one day hope to be called 'professionals'. As one of my mentors said, "We haven't yet broken into the circle, but we had earned the right to stand on the edge and look in".

So was 5 years of blood, sweat and tears worth that right? I say definitely!

Good Morning South Africa

Sorry for the lack of blogging over the last week but I've had limited internet access. I had to jump on a plane and head back to Durban and then Greytown, the teeny tiny town I grew up in to sort out some admin. :/

I head back to Cape Town today for my graduation on Saturday! I have a beautiful dress, heels, and a whole weekend of fun planned to celebrate me (finally) getting a degree! I cant wait!

While I was here in Durbs, my mum dragged me out to an event and it ended up being pretty cool. It was a Johnnie Walker whiskey tasting evening at Plush Lounge. Okay, so the club was not really my scene, but I do love my Scotch (in moderation!)

Good news for the morning:
1. Prince Charming has returned to SA from his distant palace and I will see him tomorrow!!
2. I may be in the newspaper, I need to buy the Post today
3. EWB SA: there is a motion in the ocean!

yaay!

African Beer!

I absolutely love this picture! 

I was lucky enough to visit our Engineers Without Borders project site one last time before I hand over the reigns to the new leads. Our mission was to find 'hidden' traders to get a idea of how many traders were operating 'behind the scenes'.  Most of the traders selling meat or vegetables line the main roads of the Nyanga interchange and the taxi-rank, but those who brew African Beer or 'Umqombothi' in Xhosa. (Both 'umqombothi' and 'Xhosa' have clicks in their pronunciation just by the way). The master's student on the TD4SUD project, Rissa came with us with the minivol, a machine that collects air samples for testing in the lab. While she set up and waited for the minivol to do its thing (accompanied by two chaperone's who agreed to take care of her), Tumelo and I followed Jack, our translator through the township.

Steaming drums of beer, being cooked with
harmful treated wood

The sights, sounds and most of all, the smells of Nyanga never fail to surprise me. We passed groups of old men gathered, drinking umqombothi or just sleeping off Friday-night hangovers on their humble porches. I wanted to know more about the method of brewing the beer so Jack took us into a 'shebeen' or drinking house to speak to one of the mama's. We needed this information to be able to design a stove to meet their needs.  We sat on a bench in a small shack, facing another row of customers as they talked, joked and sipped on paint-tins of beer. Jack, respectfully as always, asked the elder if she would tell us the recipe of umqombothi, which she began to relate to us with excitement.

An elder explaining the significance
of the walking stick

Once she and the other customers heard about our project, they were all to willing to help with any information we needed. Jack paid the 'mother' R5 (about 80 cents) for half a can of umqombothi and Tumelo (who is Xhosa) and I had our first try of the drink. One of the mamas taught me that the cultural way for a woman to drink umqombothi was in a kneeling position. I obliged out of respect, a value which is extremely important in the Xhosa culture. The elders told us about the traditions and cultures of the people and told us they were really glad we'd come to visit. One of the elders then said something really special to us: he told us that when we were there, nothing will happen to us and nobody will rob us. This is a privilege afforded to people and NGO's that work to help the community in township areas.  The influence of mob-justice or vigilantism exacted on caught criminals in townships by the community can be quite powerful. A colleague who worked on the upgrade of Warwick Junction in Durban a few years ago had her stolen phone returned to her 20minutes after it was taken.  Although this makes me feel slightly safer, I still wouldn't take any risks as its sometimes difficult to control the younger 'skebengu's' in the area. 

Tumelo drinking umqombothi

Me drinking the African beer

We rejoined Rissa, who had been chatting to some young men about her home in Rwanda and sharing stories over a can of umqombothi.  A group of children gathered around us, curious about the strange new faces and machine. They pushed to be in front of the camera and begged us to show them their images on the digital screens. We chatted a while longer and Jack told us about how the community had been shaken up about the Anni Dewani murder and how his Township Tours business had suffered. This unfortunately was the result of the media rampage surrounding the murder.

A man selling trinkets and plastic jewelry came by to offer his wares. I replied, in Zulu 'Ngiyaxolisa Baba, kodwa siyasebenza namhlange. Asikhona iMali.' (Sorry my father, but we are working today and do not have and money to spend). Rissa was shocked that I could speak Zulu (although that is just about all I can say in Zulu)...but I was anxious that I may have offended the man, as he was Xhosa-speaking. Jack just laughed and said, "Sweetheart, you're speaking a language of the African people, of course its ok!"  The man beamed at me, answering is Zulu that it was alright and walked away, chuckling to himself as he went...

'Mama' in her 'shebeen'

Engineer Joke of the Week!

Hot Nerd Guy...Working for you? No?

Engineering Pick-up Lines

• I won't stop bugging you until I get the address of your home page. Cringe!
• You fascinate me more than the Fundamental Theorem of Calculus.
• Since distance equals velocity times time, let's let velocity and time approach infinity, because I want to go all the way with you. Ouch, this one is wrong on so many levels
• My love for you is like a concave up function because it is always increasing.
• Let's convert our potential energy to kinetic energy.
• Wanna come back to my room? ...and see my 1000 Mhz Pentium VII?
• How about you and I go back to my place and form a covalent bond?
• You and I would add up better than a Riemann sum.
• You're sweeter than glucose. Chemical Engineering Scum!
• We're as compatible as two similar Power Macintoshes.
• Why don't we measure the coefficient of static friction between you and me? They mean DYNAMIC FRICTION I'm sure!
• Wanna see the programs in my HP-48GX?
• Your body has the nicest arc length I've ever seen.
• Isn't your e-mail address beautifulgirl@mydreams.com
• You're hotter than a bunsen burner set to full power! Sigh, poor engineer boys...You gotta love them!

Boiling Point

So I have been known to get quite stressed out at times, and I must admit, I am not fun when I do! The thing that stresses me out the most though, is getting Visa's. I don't know why, but something about the complicated process, ridiculous documentation and varying waiting times just gets works me up into a frightful mess. Do you remember this post? Travel Trauma wow.

But you've got to understand, I have had to get four different visa's this year, plus a replacement passport for my lost one! USA, UK, Australia and Canada. Not only were these really expensive and most of them were valid for only 6 months (Australia gave me a 1month visa and USA gave me a ten year), I have a habit of leaving things a little late. At one stage, I had 3 weeks to get a passport, a USA and a UK visa! (I must applaud Home Affairs for their awesome new passport process). 

A few weeks before I left for Vancouver, right in the middle of possibly the most stressful phase of my thesis project, I applied for my Canadian Visa. There was a huge mix-up with the courier company collecting my documents. I had specifically told the operator to call me before coming to fetch them, since I was working late at camps that week and couldn't guarantee where I would be. So the courier comes for my documents, and I wasn't home and he leaves. The next day I call back, and ask them to come back and this time, to PLEASE CALL ME! Around 4pm there was still no call so I race home only to find that the courier was just there and had left. Again. Now with the clock ticking on the visa-processing, I panicked. I called the courier office, insisted that the driver return immediately. I was so angry, I think I may have even tried to lodge a formal complaint against the driver.

So this skinny dude arrives at my gate, and honestly, I am not proud about the massive earful I gave the poor guy! *Rhea, breathe, one, two, ok* (is what I should have said. I'm not going to tell you what I actually said)  To be fair, it wasn't really his fault since he hadn't even got the message to call me in the first place. 

So today, after a sweaty gym session I was cooling off in the shower when the door-bell rings. The book I'd ordered had arrived. Crap, I'd forgotten about that! So I race out in a bath-robe, with a towel on my head, leaving pools of water all over my floor. I fling open my door, clutching my towel around me, and my jaw drops! Standing in front of me is THE SAME DELIVERY GUY that I'd been so inexplicably rude to a month ago! For a moment I was lost for words, then I half close the door, pretend like I don't recognise him and proceed to sign for my parcel from behind the door. It was really ridiculous but I just couldn't face him! (By the way, to make matters even worse, I got my visa more than a week before I left for Canada! Cringe!)

Moral of this story: Don't lose your cool in stressful circumstances. Treat people well, even strangers, because the world is way smaller than you think! On that note...

By the way, the book I got is called 'Boiling Point' by Leonie Joubert. I've wanted it for ages...It follows the lives of people in Sub-Saharan Africa, showing how their lives are so severely turned upside down by the effects of climate change. Let me quote something from the intro:

"When you tug on a single thing in nature, said the conservationist John Muir, you find it is attached to the rest of the world. Nowhere is this more evident than in the climate crisis. Tugging on a thread of our shared atmosphere in China or the U.S., for example, by shunting pollution into the skies, causes the fabric of local weather patterns to unravel half a world away.

Climate change is the biggest moral problem of our time, as people who have contributed little to the pollution responsible for global warming are increasingly understood to be most vulnerable to the shifting environment around them. In Boiling Point, Leonie Joubert embarks on a journey in which she explores the lives of some South Africans affected by this phenomenon: a rooibos tea farmer in the Northern Cape, a traditional fisherman in Lamberts Bay, a farmer in the center of the Free States maie belt, a political refugee in Pietermaritburg and a sangoma in Limpopo mining country. Most of these communities live on a knife-edge because of poverty and their dependence on an already capricious natural environment. Boiling Point considers what might happen to them as normal weather trends are amplified in a hotter world."

I know this is going to be a good one! Enjoy!