The Annual Autokeuring
It is that time of year again . I, like all Belgians, must make the annual pilgramage to the autokeuring for the mandatory safety inspection.
Although it is no “big deal”, it is a bit of a unavoidable nuisance and even if you maintain your car, you must pay another yearly fee on top of registration and taxes.
Today, I was reminded of my first autokeuring experience 7 years ago.
Yves had died 6 months earlier, so I was on my own in a new land with new rules and laws. I received the notice in the mail and deciphered what it was. I asked neighbors where I was to go and was advised to go to Alken. I was nervous, I had no idea what they were going to do and of course everything was going to be in Dutch.
I found the building and drove into the cue of cars. One at a time we were flagged into a garage. The door shuts and the man tells me that all the seat belts must be latched! I did not understand what he was saying (as well as missed the written signs) as ummmm, my Dutch was almost zero. He noticed I was a bit uneasy so he repeated the command and somehow I understood. He asks me to open the engine hood and step out of the car. I comply. He then shines his flashlight into the engine. At this point, I am standing off to the side observing and ready to spring at the next command. He looks at me and gestures for me to come over. “OH NO”, I think. “What is wrong with the car? What am I going to have to do? Will it be costly?” My mind is spinning as I already project I am going to have to spend a lot of money (that I don’t have) on a major repair.
I walk over to the man and the engine. He points and picks up a chicken egg. He is smiling and we both are baffled. I shrug with a big dumb grin. It is close to Easter (Paas) so we determine the Pass Haas (Easter Bunny) left a small gift.
The car passed all the inspections, I paid the fee and drove back to Zolder not only relaxed that it passed, but relieved that I had successfully completed another Belgian formality all by myself . “ A stranger in a strange land”
As to the egg mystery? I now was on the lookout for the renegade neighborhood chicken.
