The inspection decal on my license plate reads August 2010. Being the middle of August, I started inquiring this week amongst colleagues what I had to do to avoid a ticket on September 1. Apparently I have to have the car inspected so I started asking friends if they knew anyone who I could pay to go do it in the middle of the desert where all this stuff is done. I made tentative arrangements for this weekend and ironically, my clutch went out on the way home from work the next day. So instead of paying someone to deal with the inspection, I had to arrange a tow to the dealership's repair shop, also out in the middle of the desert. It's been 2 days and I still don't have a quotation. The South Asian clerk that received my vehicle and entered it into the system called this morning to advise that my transmission is being dismantled and I might have a quotation by Saturday. Since it's Ramadan, they only work 8am-1pm.
To take my mind off the vehicle misfortune, I joined a friend for a walk on the property of a barn where she has been riding a horse for the last year. The barn is out in the middle of the desert, in the other direction from the industrial area, and the property has a natural well that runs underneath part of it. We led her horse out of the stables and across a stretch of craggy desert into a verdant date palm grove with peacocks and peahens scampering around and screeching to alert one another of our presence. It was dusk and very warm (about 105 with the heat index), but a welcome escape from our respective daily grinds. Here are some snaps from the transformative dusk:
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