We have an annual insurance that we have to purchase for each vehicle that we have. Actually we simply view it as more of a tax for driving than anything like insurance. If and when I have had an accident in the past and would report it to the insurance office they were nice enough to look at the damage to my car, told me they would be in contact with me but I never heard from them. I guess I never expected to hear from them. You see, it is simply a tax.

The main problem with this little tax isn't having to pay the tax but rather the time and hassle it takes to get it done. First of all you have to find a place to park and take your papers into the building and give the car ID and old insurance papers to someone there who will then give you a paper in return. It has questions all about the car that is to be filled out by the inspector downstairs.

So the next move is to drive the car into a line and then into the basement of the building that I had just walked out of. After a long wait in line you (I) was to raise the hood so the workers filled out the papers with all the numbers, colors, license plate numbers, and number of rocks in the tire tread. Finally after this fun was completed you again try to find a parking place and take the "golden" paper into the building and wait the decision to see if we would be allowed to pay the costs. In my case they came out and advised me that the color was wrong. How could the color be wrong? Their own inspectors filled it out! They pointed out that the color written on the paper was beige. Well that is the color of the car! No, it's Champagne. For cryin stinkin out loud! So I again went downstairs and luckily the inspector wasn't at lunch so he changed the color to Champagne and all was now legal.

I did go in for the inspection a couple years ago and since the engine had a little dirt on it's numbers the inspector took this dirty, ugly rag from the ground and proceeded to dip it in my brake fluid well so he could wipe the mud off. I wanted to kill him. (This is my Christian missionary side coming out at this time. Actually the Christian part was that I didn't.

And so, after this fun I waited about 45 more minutes and paid about $150 to people who never had the right change and left. End of story. There are just days like this.

I know, it's my fault. I chose to live here.

And so it goes.

Here We Go Again

We tried again yesterday to have a clinic. I even had some good news that a friend of ours, Jan Flanagan, had agreed to come with me and help out for a while. I'm still limited on the amount of time that I can stand on my feet so she’ll be a great help to me.

But this thing that I wasn't expecting happened again. As we got within hollering distance of Prospere the roads began to be running with water and we again came to a place where passage was impossible. There were large ruts in the road and when I drove off road in the fields I came to areas of flooding that were simply mud. If I would have tried to get through them I would have ended up to my axles in mud and Jan and I would have spent most of the day out there waiting for the young guys to figure out a way that they could get my car out of there. Here are a couple pictures of the young guys that came around to talk. They were trying to convince me that I would have no trouble getting through. None of these guys drive anything more mechanical than a donkey. So we returned to town.

And So it Goes.

John

Just Checking It Out

Last week Jodie and I took the time to drive out to Prospere just to see what condition the clinic was in and to do anything that may need done to it prior to the clinic that was coming up next Thursday. As we got within about three miles from Prospere it became evident that we weren't going to make it. It seems that the nightly rains that have been coming down recently have filled the canals to overflowing and the road to a stream. Over time the streams gouge out the dirt road to make it impassable even with a four wheel drive truck. So we simply hope for the rains to subside for a while and permit some heavy equipment back in this area in order to again make the roads passable.
There is one thing that I see as good about this though. In lots of places and times I could feel all guilty that I wasn't doing what I could to keep the clinic open but this situation is absolutely beyond my ability to overcome. I just can't imagine my knees walking the last two miles through flooded fields in order to get to the clinic. In fact I can't imagine my knees walking a mile over good sidewalks, where there are none that I've seen recently. And So It Goes! John