A Man Called Mehran

In Al Ain, there is an industrial area known as "Sanaya." It is where the all of the car dealerships, used car lots, car repair shops and shops with anything you can think of are located.

Mehran is the expat go-to guy if you need work done on your car. He's from Armenia, but has lived here in Al Ain for like 30 years.

So one day I found gas all around the wheel of my car. I thought I had a gas-leak and panicked. I called Mehran and asked if he could come out to my flat to see what what was wrong. He said, ok and I gave him directions. The problem is that we don't have addresses here. So you have to give explicit directions on how to get somewhere:

Me: So first you go to the Hilton roundabout like you are going to Bawadi Mall.

Mehran: Ok

Me: Then you turn right at the first street called First Street.

Mehran: Ok first street on First Street.

Me: Now this is where it gets complicated. After you cross over the speed bump, you make an immediate right into a dirt wadi (like a dry riverbed).

Mehran: Shu speed bump? (shu is Arabic for Huh?)

Me: You know a speed bump. For the car?

Mehran: Shu???

Me: Hump?

Mehran: Oh ok. Hump.

Me: So after after the hump, turn right on to a dirt road.

For the record, no on EVER gets the directions right. I watch people pass the turn every time and end up having to get in my car and flag them down. This time was no different. There went Mehran in his big yellow truck driving right by.

I got in my car and flagged him down.

Mehran: What is this? This is not a road!! It is just dirt!

He said it in an accusatory voice like my directions were bad or something.

Me: I know. A dirt road. If it's not a road, then what do you want me to call it?

Mehran just grunted at me.

We got to my car and I guess there was no leak. My gas cap was dry rotted and they suspected that that was the problem.

Mehran announced this to me with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

Me: Are you sure it is safe to smoke here? (I said this as he flicked his cigarette on the ground.)

Mehran: Smoke, make barbecue...do whatever you want! Not danger!

Me: Um ok.

The next day I went to Mehran's for a new gas cap. He went to the shop next door and came out with a new one. He took the old one off, put the new one on, looked at the old one for a second and just chucked it across the parking lot.

I chuckled to myself, because somehow that was exactly what I expected him to do with it.

Me: So, how much do I owe you for that?

Mehran: (he pointed to his cheek) One kiss.

Me: Ok, I can afford that. (I gave him a peck on the cheek and off I went.)

After that, I realized the problem probably wasn't with my car after all. I think some Pakistani guy tried to siphon the gas out. Hmph.

So is it Mahran? or Mehran? Make up your mind!

Me and the Germans hanging around Mehran's office waiting for our cars.

Mehran: Would you like something to drink?

Me: No thanks.

Mehran: Coffee, tea?

Me: No, thanks, I'm fine.

Mehran: DRINK SOMETHING!
(I had some water)