There are cars on the streets here that in the countries where they were made you might find in museums, or not even in museums. The culture of conservation was partly driven by necessity. Cars were prohibitively expensive during the economic crisis and military dictatorship of the 1970s that forced hundreds of thousands of Uruguayans to emigrate. Mechanics became wizards at keeping ancient machines alive. As the economy picked up and U.S. and European auto makers established high-volume factories in Argentina and Brazil, an insolent invasion of accessibly priced new cars has pushed cachilas out of the city center and toward extinction.
Cars are no longer an institution, something that the family conserved.
They have become an object of common use, like a refrigerator. This was always true in other nations, but it's new here. Uruguay had special access to such automobiles through credits granted by Britain in return for wartime grain exports. The Uruguayan government has done its bit for conservation by declaring historic cars part of the national patrimony, thereby restricting their export. But sales to foreigners are rarely blocked unless a vehicle was owned by a historic figure or is otherwise unique.