Untitled
on Um Zayd wa Atheer (Uganda), 12/May/2009 18:06, 34 days ago
In the early years of our marriage Farid and I inherited several second hand cars which appreciated gentle handling and occasionally let us down at very inconvenient and inconsiderate times. Ultimately Farid thought it was a good idea if I had car maintenance lessons, presumably to boost my already impressive domestic CV. I declined and thought it was step too far for Mrs FixIt. I now realise that this was a missed opportunity and I lived to regret my hasty decision. In my single life I have not escaped car mechanical problems and I have been forced to acknowledge a big gap in my knowledge. The AA Man has become a significant other person in my life and his card prized over that of M& S and Laura Ashley.Last Friday evening was spent on a grass verge, stranded and faced with yet another incident of mechanical failure. There was no AA Man to call and no car maintenance classes to fall back on. I began to regret my foolish feminine pride. A very sickly looking Prajero had its bonnet open for 3 hours with 9 pairs of male eyes staring hopelessly into its innards. Nobody knew who all those eyes belonged to, where they had appeared from but nobody bothered to ask. Fingers became itchy and it was suggested that a spanner and pliers might be useful. Miraculousy they appeared from some mud hut and the tinkering began along with the theories for the breakdown. When the theories failed, sharp words were exchanged and sparks literally flew as bodies jumped back. The Outreach nurses took no interest in the procedings and after a lot of tutting they slunk off in search of a Trading Centre or opted for a snooze in the offending vehicle. They had seen it all before.Two hours later no progress had beeen made and clearly the Pajero didn't care much for this random prodding, poking and banging. It refused to move and it was decided that a real mechanic was needed. He arrived side saddle on the back of a bicycle, 3 sheets to the wind and he soon elbowed the amateurs out of the way. More sparks flew and the initial diagnosis did not rule out switch failure. Word was sent out that we needed a screw driver. Yes, somebody had one and soon the outer casing of the steering column was removed and the diagnosis was proved right. A bit of wiring, pushing and one big black cough and the Pajero submitted. we were back in action. The mechanic was a proud man and demanded his 5,000 Ush fee, presumably enough to fund another few evenings of supping local brew. None of the others got a cut and 1 onlooker thought she could have done the job for free with just a bit of background knowledge and experince.