Pubblicato: 05.01.2020
For a change, on Friday morning, January 3, 2020, Schrotti has the opportunity to give a fellow sheet metal colleague a jump start. The car of the hostel manager didn't want to start on its own, but our Moskvich doesn't hesitate even in the cool night. For all involved, it is unusual since we have always had to look for help of any kind ourselves. After we finished breakfast, our stuff quickly disappeared into the car, and we headed north. We have ordered some potential buyers to come to Schymkent for the weekend, hoping to sell our Russian fellow there. There is a lot of activity at the border crossing, especially at the pedestrian crossing. It reminds me of the good old days when I waited for admission to the party cellar at the Fuchsbau in Chemnitz at night. At that time, most of the pushy people were already slightly intoxicated and definitely in the stormy and impulsive phase of their lives. At the Uzbek-Kazakh border, most likely, the majority of people are sober and old enough for orderly queuing. But no, there is pushing, shoving, and sometimes angry yelling. You could say the older they get, the crazier they get. Rango remains quite calm nevertheless and ensures that I have more space than most other waiting people. Periodically, the door to the stamp room opens and a border guard lets a few people slip into the hall before closing the door again. After a while, we also made it and can comfortably pass the border from there. We even arrived a little faster than Marcus with Schrotti and had to wait a while on the Kazakh side. Then we continue driving north, exchange a few fresh Tenge, refuel with gas, and in the afternoon, we reach the Dream Hostel where we stayed last fall. After a cup of coffee and some chocolate bread, we empty Schrotti and Marcus drives to the next car wash. Meanwhile, I sort through the things that have accumulated in our Moskvich AZLK 2141 over the past few months. Quite a few things can be thrown away. After Marcus has parked our freshly washed gem in the driveway, we have dinner. In the meantime, the first potential buyer announces himself. Omar wants to take a look at the car on the same evening and shortly afterwards, he is already at the door. The young man looks at the car, takes a test drive with us, and wants to take the car away right away. We agree on 200,000 Tenge, although he only has 150,000 cash with him for now. He offers to leave his phone and ID card as security. The ID card is enough for us for now, Omar makes a very honest impression. It's time for a last picture with Schrotti and its new owner. There is a tinge of melancholy as we see Schrotti's taillights disappear, but in the evening, we celebrate with a beer. We are quite satisfied with the selling price. Now it's time to keep our fingers crossed that Schrotti will give its new owner fewer problems than it gave us in the first few days. Over the evening, we realize that I still have the key to the car, it was overlooked during the handover. Omar can't refuel, so he comes by again at night and rings Marcus's doorbell. I also have to get up at night when Rango's whimpering wakes me up. It's raining and the shelter I built doesn't reliably protect us from the water. So I evacuate the big guy, who will probably miss Schrotti the most. After all, he spent most of the last four months in the car.
On Saturday we relax at the hostel, and I sew some clothes. Rango and I go out from time to time, but we are both not very motivated due to the drizzly weather. So there is plenty of time for a game of chess against the weekend staff of the hostel. In the evening, Omar comes by again, unfortunately, without the rest of the money for now. He tells us about some problems and that his mother has already cursed him. Schrotti is not making it easy for him. Most of it is surely due to operator error, after all, it's not a new car and the Moskvich has its quirks. The young man still has a lot to learn. We'll see if we still get the remaining amount, Omar has promised it to us again.
On Sunday morning, we decide to stay another night in Schymkent. We walk to the bus station and inquire about tickets for the return trip to Tashkent and we can exchange the Tenge from the car sale into dollars. After a coffee, we return to the Dream Hostel and I pack my backpack. From tomorrow onwards, everything has to fit on my back again. Especially the winter clothes I bought take up more space than I thought, but I manage to fit everything. It's definitely time for the big guy to contribute again to transport.