Street Legal

It was one of the first lessons that we learned here: things always take longer than you expect.

Sometimes, it’s because as clueless foreigners with a shaky grasp of the language and complete ignorance of the normal ways of business, we have absolutely no clue what we are doing, and so the simplest things—like buying a trashcan—take weeks longer than they should as we figure out how and where to buy something (we lived with garbage bags on our kitchen floor for longer than I’d like to admit).

Sometimes it’s because, as a developing country, infrastructure in Benin hasn’t quite caught up to the standards we’re used to back home and things just take longer to get done.

Sometimes, it’s because the Beninese seem to have absorbed the French penchant for bureaucracy, and so there is always one more form to fill out or box to check before we can, say, get our passports back from the health authorities after our post-arrival COVID test.

And sometimes, like for example buying a car (and writing this update, which I wanted to do AFTER we got our car), it’s a combination of them all.

Our first attempt fell through when—after finding a suitable car and negotiating the price—we told the seller that we’d return the next day with the cash to pay for it. He sold it to someone else. (See item #1 above). This was in early February.

Just one corner of the car park. Anyone want a silver Toyota?

Our second attempt very nearly ended in disaster. I spent some 6 hours at the car park (essentially a collection of absolutely enormous used car lots outside of town—the cars sit in these duty-free lots after being imported until they can be sold either in Benin or, more frequently, throughout the region) negotiating with someone I thought was the seller’s representative. The deal fell through when, upon returning to the car park a couple of days later to pay for the car, I demanded to see the car title and noticed that it was very obviously fake (wrong location, misspellings, it even had several words written in the wrong language!). This was in mid-February.

(In retrospect, the fact that “representative” refused to meet me in person, told me that I couldn’t speak directly to the owner since he was out of the country recovering from surgery, wanted me to pay for the car at some office downtown instead of at the car park, and couldn’t promise that I’d have all the necessary documents upon payment should have probably tipped me off that it was a scam from the beginning. Also see item #1.)

How many mistakes can you find?

Finally, our third try. A colleague introduced us to a trusted intermediary to handle the purchase. We hired a customs agent to handle the paperwork and make sure everything was above board. And we carried the necessary cash (oh yeah, you have to pay cash for these things) to the car park to actually buy the thing once we made our decision.

Car bought—a 2012 Rav-4 from Rhode Island, some 180,000 miles on the odometer, and a little bit of rust here and there (there was no avoiding that). This was early March.

And then we waited.

Our customs agent told us it would likely take 3-4 weeks for the paperwork to get taken care of and our plates to be delivered. That stretched into 6+ weeks as (per Item #3 above) each week seemed to require a new piece of paper that needed to be written, procured, or otherwise stamped. Once we were told that things were slow at the government offices because of a bad internet connection (Item #2). Meanwhile, the car sat in the car park as it couldn’t be released until the paperwork had been approved.

We asked our agent when the car would be ready. “Let us just do the next step,” he would reply.

Finally, a week ago, we got a call. “Are you home? I can bring you the car.” Joy! “But you cannot drive it yet until you get the plates.”

“When will that be?”

“I do not know. There is a shortage of the materials they use for the plates. I will let you know.”

So our car sat in our driveway—so close!—for a week until we got another call. “Are you free today? The plates are ready.”

Our agent came. We drove to the DMV, picked up the plates, and got them riveted to the car. Sweet!

One more step—a safety inspection.

We drove to the inspection facility where a guy made sure we had all the necessary safety equipment. A front headlight was out, so another guy replaced it. And then I waited—three, four hours?—before I got the little sticker that said we passed. Free to go!

There she is!

It was a long process, and we learned a number of important lessons. First, have someone you trust show you the ropes—it’ll help speed things up. Second, be patient—“Let us just do the next step.” Third, don’t be too ambitious—we plan on taking care of one thing per day. And finally—always, always bring a book—it helps to pass the time.

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