Oh Pitufa... (that's Spanish for Smurf, the name my new set of wheels has adopted). How I love you and all of your quirky attributes. As we make our way around this hilly island, unable to climb certain mountains moving over 40 km/hr (that's about 25 mph); when cars are honking and flashing lights behind us as we struggle to reach the posted speed limit on main roads; the times we need to pull over to analyze the map with a flashlight (no fancy GPS or dome lights here); or on windy days that I must grip the steering wheel hard as I feel the gusts rocking us from side to side, I can't help but just smile. I grin and shake my head as the springy clutch squeaks each time it is compressed, and at the sound of the transmission dropping with every gear I change; at the rattling doors bobbling about on their hinges, or the whistling air seeping through the unsealed window frames. How I love this unique rolling box that I've some how temporarily adopted. She gets me around with great persistence even though she whines to me loudly when we go too fast or the terrain is not perfectly smooth. Pitufa knows nothing of AC, heating, or radios (no speaker would be audible over her insistent noises anyway). When we hit the road it's just her and I, me trusting her to get me around this peculiar new land, survive the busy highways when I get lost around the capital city, and carry me back safely to the little dirt road where my hidden home rests. Thank you little Nissan That Could for adding to the charm of this experience and giving me just one more challenge to be thankful I have.