The first summer I ever went to Mexico, I was out in bumfuk Colima, and a friend offered to let me drive his father’s high-horsepower Ford Maverick.
I was barely able to put the Spanish together at that time, but I understood “¿Sabes manejar un estándar?” (You know how to drive a clutch?)
Neither one of us knew if it was legal for me to drive there as I slid into the driver’s seat. He let me drive that rocket around on the country roads for a while. I’d never driven a car with so much horsepower (tantos caballos).
My friend ended up the event by saying, “Eres un buen automovilista.” (You are a good motorist).
This is my friend Cesar from Colima driving his father’s pickup. Nice guy. I didn’t have to do handstands to be his friend. He was so patient with my borked Spanish. 1980-ish.