4WD it is not…

After a quiet Christmas Day, I did what I often ended up doing at home; a bit of DIY.  There is always something.  I started by opening up the common room fire escape gain, for some reason it had been nailed shut.  But the door was only the first bit, I then had to get out the back with my machete and clear the undergrowth which had grown across the entire back wall; it’s no use having a fire escape that you can be opened, it you can’t open it!  I sorted out a few doors that had seen better days and then fixed up a bit of leaky roof and then moved on to my main aim.  We repatriated a map of the area from the UN base next door; it’s too good, and too interesting an artefact to let it be stolen and used for firewood.  I started to restore it and hung it on the outside of one of the ISO containers for visitors to see, but it didn’t last, it’s a 7 feet square map on a plywood base so pretty heavy, we just didn’t have any good enough rope!  So I am now trying to source some chain.

Sunday was much more exciting.  I planned to go over to church at the orphanage run by friends, unfortunately I missed the turn so did a man thing and pressed on, to take the next turn and circle round.  A U-turn would be admitting failure after all.  Not a good move, as it has rained quite heavily over night so the road – ay the best of times it’s a mud track, was in a bit of a state.  Now mostly it was OK, I could keep one set of wheels on the high ground.  Now and again it was a little more interesting and I did think of turning back, but when I threw the ambulance into reverse, and Low Range 4WD I got nothing but the chilling sound of sloshing mud.  So there was no turning back.  Thankfully I got going and that was when I remembered, we don’t actually have 4WD.  The driveshaft went missing apparently after getting it repaired by a previously unknown mechanic.  We now have a regular guy.  The journey continued for a while longer but then I had to stop and think, the road was waterlogged now – to its complete width and maybe 30 yards, a brief respite and the same again.  I think I had 2 options both from Top Gear – Clarkson (just go for it, the support crew will get us out of any mess) and the May approach (walk it and find a path).  As I had no support crew, didn’t exactly know where I was, and have improving but limited Creole, there was only one option.  Fortunately I had shorts and sandals on.  It was the right call though because although there was a little fringe of grass beneath the surface to give me traction under one wheel and a depth of only 6 inches or so, when I walked the puddle (small reservoir) to the right of that track I was almost to my knee.  Bearing in mind that the floor has many holes in it, I’m glad I found a track on the left side that appeared none too deep.  In a happily boring end to this anecdote I made it without further issue to the orphanage, quietly proud at the old girl, who incredibly doesn’t have a name yet.

One of the house-parents was headed back to the USA for a few days so I gave her a ;lift to the airport.  This too was not without event, but in a fun way.  Traffic was unusually heavy for a Sunday a mile or two out from the airport.  I was in full drive-Haiti mode  and was making up the third of three lanes headed north, fighting against the constant stream of moto’s and tap-taps (cheap old taxis) coming south.  Eventually we realised the source of the congestion, a police checkpoint.  Uh-oh, as he approached with his ancient automatic rifle and body armour.  “Permis” he grunted which I took to mean “good afternoon sir, I apologise for the delays but can I see your driving licence please?”.  I’d like to think it was the discrete Union Flag in the corner of my licence that did the trick, but maybe it was the ambulance as then he nodded and said “siren” which I took as an order to switch on the blue light and siren and get the traffic to part like Moses and the Red Sea.  It didn’t quite work like that, but we did make progress after that and the flight was caught!