A Trip to the Mechanic

I needed to go to the bank in Cap this week so I tagged along on the trip to fix the tires on the Clinic truck. We made our stops along the way (always multiple and never explained) and finally made it to the mechanics. It’s just on some street, somewhere. We pulled up and Ben told them what he wanted and away they went. We went to pick up a drink and some bread in a nice air-conditioned restaurant just down the street. Back we took our snack. I was given a chair on the sidewalk to sit on. Enjoying my snack in the shade, trying not to move to avoid getting sweaty. Apparently they were going to do all 4 tires, I found this out after about 30-45 minutes of them working on the first tire. Seriously? Why didn’t I stay in the nice cold restaurant!? Oh well. The sun is slowly getting closer and closer to me as it peeks over the overhang that I’m hiding under. Scared little white girl, hiding from the sun on her comfy chair. But the best part of the long tire-fixing expedition? I “blended in” for a short time. People didn’t stop and stare at me. No one called out “blanc”. No one snuck a touch/rub/caress of my arm, hand, or leg. The only comment was made by a lovely lady passing by, instructing the men to “fix the truck well as there was a beautiful white who would ride in it.” It was nice to not stick out for awhile, at least not as much.

You never know what you are getting yourself into when you take a trip into Cap. On Sunday Janelle and I went into Cap with 2 of our friends. Thinking we could get out of town for a bit (hadn’t been out in about 2 weeks due to sickness and no vehicle) we were looking forward to a nice meal and relaxing together with friends. We were told beforehand that there was trouble with the truck, but that all we had to do was have some guys push it to get it started. Put in third gear was what we were suggested. No problem! Well we get to Cap, and Ben decides to stop to visit his second father, “for only 5 minutes…” Anyways, we visit with “Monsieur France,” as I like to call him and then proceed to drive up the bumpy street (more like a terrible back lane). We find a place to turn around, by Haitian standards anyways, I’m thinking it’ll be about an 8 point turn. We get stuck in a little trench so we put the truck in 4-wheel drive. Next thing we know we stall. Ben tries to start it again, thinking no big deal. BIG DEAL! The truck doesn’t start unless you push it, we were told that when we left! How will we push it when we are perpendicular to the road!? Janelle and my reaction? We laugh. Hysterically. Because we are parked the opposite that we should be, blocking the entire road (thankfully it’s not a busy street and only one car came to pass). Sigh. After a little while, we get our hands on Monsieur France’s car battery, start our truck and head on our way. The guys still think we are going all the way into Cap for a nice meal. It’s 6:30pm at this time and we know it’s not the best decision to drive back on the road late at night. So we agree to eat at the nearest gas station. Ham and cheese sandwiches in a dark, freezing cold room, with a bunch of guys watching a movie/or us. Nice. We finish up and try to start the truck again. Of course, nothing. We planned ahead and parked where someone could push us. Out they get to push the truck. Nothing. A little boy comes along asking if he can get his friends to help push (they hang out there to “wash” your car in hopes of a few gourdes). So along come about 4 little 10 year olds. Ha! They push us backwards (with some other random people’s help), then try and push us forwards again. Nothing. Of course Ben won’t listen to the instructions of putting it in 3^rd gear, he’s in second. But what would we know… Janelle and I are hysterical, once again. We get yelled at by friends to stop laughing –that it’s not funny. We reply,” it’s this or cry”. Take your pick. Laughing it is. We borrow a battery from another tap-tap (very old beater truck that taxies people around – public transportation) and away we go. Back home. Sigh. Not exactly the nice night out we’d hoped for, but it would have to suffice. Sigh, lovely life here. So unpredictable. Sometimes so frustrating. Sometimes just hilarious. We were told by one friend that this is life here in Haiti. My response was, yes I agree, but there’s also a human factor to this. The battery could have been bought last week when there were troubles and then we wouldn’t be in this situation. But let’s not think about that okay? I might go just a little nutty…

Oh well. Made for an interesting night. Everything is always just interesting...!