Flat Tire

On Wednesday afternoon, Saturnin (one of our local employees) and I headed to one of the primary schools covered by our program. It is about 30 minute ride and the 90 degree heat coupled with the beaming sun made it seem much longer. The whole time all I kept thinking was how miserable it was to ride on a moto in this harsh heat.

Once we reached the schools and saw the mothers of the children arriving right behind us, I suddenly felt foolish. I was complaining about riding on a moto in this heat when they walked two kilometers one way just to reach the school. Their sweat drenched brows told tales of the unforgiving heat. In that moment, I knew my complaints were first world problems, as my friend Gabi would say.

After our meeting at the school, we headed back to Dassa, but had to pass through Saturnin’s village to give his mother a machete. A machete that had now somehow made its way onto my lap. As we were riding along, I was thinking about writing a blog post about how pampered a life we Westerners are used to living. I dare complain about riding on a moto when people walk miles in this weather and usually with large and heavy parcels on their heads?

Five minutes into the ride Saturnin said something in French but I didnn’t understand. Finally I realized, we had a flat tire. Isn’t this a b****!!! We hopped off the moto to see the damage. Luckily we were quite close to a village or rather a cluster of houses. We went into the village to search for someone to fix the tire. To no avail. Saturnin told me that we would have to walk to Gbaffo, the next village. I nearly collapsed. He told me it was two or three kilometers away. While I dreaded the notion of walking so far in this heat, Saturnin muted any complaint of pushing the moto that same distance.

The universe has a funny way of teaching you lessons. After a quick swig of water, we were on our way. The heat showed no mercy. Ten minutes in we both were visually affected by the beaming sun, with sweat forming all over. The lack of clouds and trees made us keenly aware of the sun’s almighty presence.

We had walked about one kilometer when another moto stopped and questioned Saturnin about the situation. He showed him the nail he pulled out of the tire and the man said he could help us, we only had to walk back one kilometer. o_O Once we got back to the village I was sure that I was knocking on death’s door. I collapsed onto a chair in the shade and drank that last bit of water that was now lukewarm, diminishing any refreshing effect.

The old man who was to fix our tire decided he would merely patch the inner tube so that we could get back to the city. After patching once side, realizing there was another hole and patching the other side, one hour had passed. Once everything was finished and the air had been pumped back into the tire, we prepared to leave but not before Saturnin attempted to slide the man 2000CFA ($4.50 or €3). The man refused to take the money, saying that Saturnin was like a little brother to him.

I was taken aback by this whole exchange. Here was Saturnin, a man whose salary is so insufficient that he has to borrow money every month to help cover the cost of feeding ten family members that he supports, offering 2000CFA to this man, which is a significant amount of money in this area. The service he provided generally costs about 300CFA. And on the other hand you have a man dressed in ragged clothes, with feet sans shoes, that look as though they have never felt the comfort of walking along the rocky earth with shoes, a man who was visibly poor and he was refusing to take the money because of a sense of brotherhood. As an outsider I could not believe this act of kindness but I also insisted that he took the money and did not leave until he did so.

So all in all while I was forced to endure a two kilometer walk in this unforgiving heat being able to witness this exchange of human kindness amongst two people who never have enough. It warmed my heart.