Life as a Wings of Hope field director in Nicaragua can be
very exciting and interesting at times. But with every life saved – or
harrowing flight into unknown weather – there are days that are filled with
redundancy, waiting, frustration … and more waiting.
It's 5 o'clock in the morning, and I am awakened by the
sounds of my neighbor’s rooster. I crawl out of my mosquito net, silently
praying that this is the day that the rooster becomes my neighbor’s dinner.
With coffee in hand, I think that it would be nice to have something happen
today that I could write about. I haven't had an emergency flight request for
almost a week now, which is definitely a good thing. Because as an emergency
medical relief pilot, when I'm not flying, people are healthy. I rarely like to
sit around and wait for a call, so I decide to do some errands. I recently
bought a vise clamp for my work bench at the airport. The first errand is to
buy four bolts and nuts to mount it.
I get on my motorcycle and drive to the closest hardware
store. Halfway there, I am met with a huge mound of sand and a bunch of
workers. They tell me that the road is closed for repair. There aren't many
roads around here, so I figure finding a detour shouldn't be too hard. After 45
minutes of driving through dirt paths and people’s backyards, I decide to stop
and ask for directions. A man kindly gives me directions to an alternate road
that I have never used before. After passing a taco stand run by an attractive
girl, I decide that I like this detour and may use it more often. Although, it
seems as if I held my gaze for a little too long. Our eyes met, and I nodded. I
might as well have asked her to marry me.
The first hardware store doesn't have the bolts that I need,
and the second can only manufacture them. I'm not sure how they would
manufacture them, but I know that I don't want to wait for it to happen. With
no bolts in hand, it's time for lunch. I pass by a local place and order the
first thing on the menu: “aleta de tortuga.” I understand that “tortuga” means
“turtle,” which is a popular choice for the people of Atlantic coast. I've
never had turtle before, but I figure, “When in Rome...” What I did not know
was that “aleta” means “fin or dorsal.” So out comes my lunch, an enormous
turtle fin in a bowl of soup with a few potatoes in it. My brain may be saying,
“When in Rome...,” but my digestive system is saying, “Why do you hate me?”
With the “aleta de tortuga” churning inside me, I remember
seeing some random bolts in a storage shed near my house. The trip back takes
me through the detour again. This time the taco stand girl has a friend with
her. They notice me right away and wave. I wave back and wonder why I've never
had this happen back in the states. In the storage shed, I find one bolt that
will work. I then go to three more hardware stores and come up empty. I decide
to go to the airport and get the proper dimensions that I need and have them
manufactured. As I enter the airport, I mention my predicament to the security
officer. He quickly tells me of his friend who sells bolts. Halfway through his
explanation of where his friend lives, I stop paying attention because I
stopped understanding him two sentences before that. I understood “near the
baseball field”; that will get me close enough.
Of course, to get to the baseball field I have to pass the
taco stand. I hope I can sneak by without being noticed, but that's not
happening. She's wearing makeup now. I think, “Why did I nod?” I get to the
baseball field, which is surrounded by random shops. Half of them are closed
since it's coming up to the end of the day. I stop by a few of them that look
like they would sell bolts. None of them do, but they point me to an alley and
tell me that the second house on the right does. I enter the alley and find the
second house on the right. Sure enough, there is a sign about the size of
postcard that says “nuts and bolts.” I knock on the door and show the man what
I need. He lets me in his house, and on the floor are about a hundred different
kinds of bolts. He has the kind I need; the only catch is that he doesn't have
nuts to fit them. I figure that's OK, I can spend all day tomorrow finding the
nuts. Maybe I'll get some tacos, too.
