0 (zero)

The 31st of August.  That was the deadline.  On the 1st of September, the new laws would be in full swing in Mexico City.

What would that mean for us?  Well, we would not be able to drive our van on Thursdays (it’s actually always been that way), or the 4th Saturday of every month (that actually started on the 1st of July), or on any weekday morning from 5:30am to 11am.

That’s right, we were going to be pretty limited!  Unless…

Unless we got a "0" sticker.

Supposedly in an effort to cut down on pollution, the powers-that-be were further limiting how often a vehicle could be on the road.  However, some newer vehicles (like ours – it’s a 2003) might be able to get around the restrictions by going through a verification process, which (I believe) involved some kind of emmissions test.

I arrived at the Verificentro to get the van verified late in the month (I hadn’t gone earlier because we had trouble getting our van started.  Remember that whole story?).  I couldn’t get in because of the chain across the entrance.  But there was someone there to ask for my papers.  He looked puzzled when he discovered the van was from Canada.

"We’re pretty busy here – you know it’s close to the end of the month," he said (all this conversation is in Spanish, of course.  Excuse my very loose translation).  "Why don’t you try the other Verificentro downtown?"

I got directions and headed down the road.  Eventually I found the other place – which looked far busier than the first place.  I parked on the street and walked up to find someone to talk to.  My first guess was wrong – he was just another poor guy waiting for his vehicle.  My second try was right – a bearded man who was letting the vehicles in and out.

"Hi – I need to get a verification done."

"Where’s the vehicle?"

"Over there."

"Do you have your paperwork?"

"Yes, here it is" (handing him a folder).

He wandered off somewhere with my paperwork, while I waited outside the chain.  Inside there was a washroom.  I was wishing I was inside.

Eventually, the man with the beard wandered back.  "Sorry, you can’t get a 0.  This paperwork is expired."

"Ah, yes – I know it’s confusing, but actually it isn’t expired…" I explained the paperwork I had given him.

"Ah, ok…" and he wandered off again.

This happened once more – I forget what the issue was, but I think he came up with another reason why I couldn’t get a "0".  But after checking one more time, he said,"All right – come on in.  The entrance is on the side road over there."

I got my paperwork back and headed across the street to the van.  I found the side street without a problem – it was a narrow pot-holed mud road, and the van lurched up to the entrance.  Another chain across the entrance.  The man who looked like he was in charge glared at me.

Apparently, I wasn’t supposed to go in, I was supposed to get in line to go in.  A bunch of other cars lined the road in a disorderly fashion, waiting their turn.  Oops.  I got in line.

At last, the line dwindled, and I was getting close.  A couple other men came up to the van and asked for my papers.

"Where is the vehicle from?"

"Canada."

"Oh, Canada."  One of them winked and said to me "You can speak English, you know.  He speaks English!"

Of course, he didn’t.  Anyway, after a few questions about my paperwork (and a few attempts at English words from the joker), they finally deemed me worthy — the chain was moved aside, and I entered the great courtyard where my van would be tested.

Or would it?

You’ll find out in Part 2….