I brought the car to our mechanic last Saturday. He wasn't surprised to see me. "You've got a strange sound when you drive over potholes, right? An ee-ee, ee-ee, right?" he squeaked.
"How did you know," I asked-- "Did our driver let you know I was coming?"
"No, no. I was at the ATM in town this morning when I saw your car drive by and heard that sound. I knew you'd come by soon."
There are two very good mechanics in town. We used to take our car to a man named Michael whose garage is on the outskirts of town. He's taller and wider than the average Tanzanian, with big oil stained hands that look too clumsy to fine-tune an engine. His garage has no sign--we found him with directions from a fellow car owner. To find his place, turn left on the dirt path just past the big mango tree before the Friends Peace Bar, and honk at the rusted gate just down the path.
His garage is impressive. The skeletons of ancient land rovers litter the lot. Michael's office, a building in the far end of the lot, is strewn with ancient papers on the floor, a calendar from 2007, and christmas decorations from some point in the past decade. A half a dozen young men loiter and insult each other, while two work on the cars for the day.
We took the car to Michael for about six months, but there was a chronic problem with the brakes that he couldn't figure out. We decided to see if the town's other mechanic had any idea why we heard that grating noise on muddy roads.
Panya's more compact garage is just off of Mwanga Market. The taxi drivers I talk to all bring their cars there, they swear by him. While Michael looks like he could pry the answers out of the car with his sheer strength, Panya seems like he could put his ear close to an engine, tap it a few times, and diagnose the problem.
Your mechanic must be someone you trust implicitly. Both Michael and Panya refuse any payment till the job is done, and when I forget for two weeks to pay a bill don't charge any extra for the wait. But lately we've been going to Panya for all our car troubles. I have to confess, it's mainly for his office. Panya has taken an old land rover, cut off the top, and laid it on a stand of bricks. You step into the door of his office, sit down on a stool next to his crowded desk, look around and realize that you're in a car. It's that creativity and frugality that draws me to Panya. Although I do like Michael's christmas decorations.
