When you live in West Africa simple things such as home repairs are never simple.
It all started on Thursday. Our kitchen smelled of natural gas and was too strong to ignore. This has been going on for a while- so finally we decided to find out where the problem was.
By turning off and tightening all connections between the stove and the gas bottle we determined a loose screw was not the problem. So Ed took apart the entire oven. The conclusion? The valve to the oven was leaking. Solution- get a new part to replace it. Dont worry that in the mean time, there were fireballs in my kitchen and lots of screws thrown about. That's completely normal.
After consulting a few veteran missionaries- we decided that the market would be the best place to look for the part, so on Saturday we set off! We arrived at the market, showed our part to a few venders and were pointed to the opposite side of the market. There we found the junk yard of everything metal.
Hopeful as always- we asked a vender if he knew where to get our part. He pointed us to a nearby stall. We walked over and asked where he pointed us back where we came from and gave us a name to ask for. We went back and asked for the person- who was not in at the moment. We were then directed another way, then another, and finally ended up talking to a man selling alternators to cars. He recognized the piece and told us, "Coulibaly by the mosque at the other market would be able to help us". For those not in Mali there are some major problems with this helpful advice.
1. Coulibaly is as common a last name as Smith or Jones in the USA
2. There are mosques on almost every corner
3. He was at the other market.
Rather than leave it at that, this man acted in a very Malian way and called his friend for us. He then gave us his number so we would actually find him. We all hop in a taxi and head to the other market (about 15 minutes away). Arriving at the mosque we called our new friend Coulibaly, couldn’t understand him and then handed the phone to the taxi driver. After a brief conversation we headed to the OTHER mosque (remember there are LOTS of mosques in Bamako).
We arrive at the shop and he looks at our part and starts digging around while we wait in the taxi- the closest I have been to a drive through since arriving. Five minutes later he comes back with a part- but not the right one. We shake our head no, but it doesnt end there. He decides that we can come back the next day and he will look for the part that night.
Sunday morning we call Coulibaly again, and he tells us he fixed the part. We are not really sure what that means, but excited that progress was being made in the right direction. After our morning of Sunday school and Youth group we head back to the market to meet up with our friend. Sure enough he has fixed our part! We pay him and head off on our way.
That night Ed re-installs the part and our oven is working! Oh, the joys of helpful people, lots of walking, hot weather, and success!
It all started on Thursday. Our kitchen smelled of natural gas and was too strong to ignore. This has been going on for a while- so finally we decided to find out where the problem was.
By turning off and tightening all connections between the stove and the gas bottle we determined a loose screw was not the problem. So Ed took apart the entire oven. The conclusion? The valve to the oven was leaking. Solution- get a new part to replace it. Dont worry that in the mean time, there were fireballs in my kitchen and lots of screws thrown about. That's completely normal.
After consulting a few veteran missionaries- we decided that the market would be the best place to look for the part, so on Saturday we set off! We arrived at the market, showed our part to a few venders and were pointed to the opposite side of the market. There we found the junk yard of everything metal.
Hopeful as always- we asked a vender if he knew where to get our part. He pointed us to a nearby stall. We walked over and asked where he pointed us back where we came from and gave us a name to ask for. We went back and asked for the person- who was not in at the moment. We were then directed another way, then another, and finally ended up talking to a man selling alternators to cars. He recognized the piece and told us, "Coulibaly by the mosque at the other market would be able to help us". For those not in Mali there are some major problems with this helpful advice.
1. Coulibaly is as common a last name as Smith or Jones in the USA
2. There are mosques on almost every corner
3. He was at the other market.
Rather than leave it at that, this man acted in a very Malian way and called his friend for us. He then gave us his number so we would actually find him. We all hop in a taxi and head to the other market (about 15 minutes away). Arriving at the mosque we called our new friend Coulibaly, couldn’t understand him and then handed the phone to the taxi driver. After a brief conversation we headed to the OTHER mosque (remember there are LOTS of mosques in Bamako).
We arrive at the shop and he looks at our part and starts digging around while we wait in the taxi- the closest I have been to a drive through since arriving. Five minutes later he comes back with a part- but not the right one. We shake our head no, but it doesnt end there. He decides that we can come back the next day and he will look for the part that night.
Sunday morning we call Coulibaly again, and he tells us he fixed the part. We are not really sure what that means, but excited that progress was being made in the right direction. After our morning of Sunday school and Youth group we head back to the market to meet up with our friend. Sure enough he has fixed our part! We pay him and head off on our way.
That night Ed re-installs the part and our oven is working! Oh, the joys of helpful people, lots of walking, hot weather, and success!
No comments:
Post a Comment