No brakes. Flat tire. No worries.

Driving in Kenya, and I assume in any just about foreign country, is an experience.  Not only do you have to learn which side of the car to enter on when you are driving (or riding as a passenger in the front, you have to learn to casually act like you did not try to enter on the wrong side), learn to drive on the opposite side of the road, learn where the blinker is (not the where the windshield wipers are, giving the American windshield wiper salute every time you try to change lanes) learn to navigate roundabouts, roundabouts with traffic lights (which I think defeat the purpose) then roundabouts with traffic lights with cops directing people when to go (which I think negates the purpose of both of the other two and causes more harm than good).  If you are as fortunate and unfortunate, as we are to have a manual vehicle, you must learn to shift with the opposite hand, and as with any big city, get your calf workout with the stop and start traffic and your trusty clutch.  There are no real traffic laws that are enforced or behaved (except when someone one decides enforcing them may give him and extra dollar in pocket), and the biggest ugliest car usually wins.  Good thing for us we have a big an ugly car... We are currently borrowing a big white manual 80's Landcruiser that, as I wrote in a previous post, has been nicknamed the white buffalo in Maa.  A very apt name for our bohemoth with 4wd, snorkel, dual spares and batteries, locking hubs, roof rack,  high lift jack, and alas no power steering.  Not a big deal most of the time, you just power through the turns, however it does make bush driving a bit more difficult.  If you are not paying attention you can yank your arm out of socket, or if very unfortunate, you could break your wrist if you do not have a firm grip on the wheel when you hit some of these ruts.  This combined with the play in the steering wheel leaves a lot to pay attention to: potholes, ruts, rocks, thorns, glass, animals, nails, people, dust clouds, matatus, other crazy drivers, all along while having someone who does not speak the same first language trying to give you directions.  Quite the physical and mental workout.  

Since taking the road from Narok to Narosura we have not made the journey without getting a flat tire or worse...  Tires aren't too bad though, changing one is just as much hassle in the states (just a little dustier here).  Our jack is a little rusty and gets hung now and then but no real problem.  We have two spares, and getting a tire patched here is actually quite a bit cheaper than in the states (often under $5) large plus on the Kenyan side!  You have to find an honest mechanic, again the same as in the states, and haggle for a price, but it only takes about 15 minutes (another plus).  

The other day, however, on our way back from Narok getting groceries, I encountered something a bit more challenging.  As I approached one of the many bumps in the road I went to slow down and the brake pedal went to the floor with no resistance.  "Hmm..." Thinks I, "No brakes".  The next bump comes and goes and Audrey comments, "Hit that one a little fast didn't you?"  Still trying to decide what to say and if my brakes are completely gone, I decide to let her in to my secret, "I don't think the brakes are working too well".  She shoots me a worried look, but I assure her it will be okay, we'll just drive slower. So we do, and this is where one of the big advantages to a manual vehicle lies, the downshift.  If ever you are in a situation where you don't want to or can brake, the downshift can slow you down in a jiffy. So that's what we do, drive at a slower pace, downshifting, down the dirt rutted road with no brakes or power steering.  I did not let the rest of our riders into my secret until we arrived in town at the mechanic and I left to find some more brake fluid (nonsense to worry the locals).  The mechanic did not have the part that broke so we simply tied that brake line off and decided it would work okay with the other three, once we added some more brake fluid.  So now we await our missing part being brought in from a bigger town.  When we arrived back home we found we had a slow leaking tire as well.  Makes for a long day and an exciting story, but God's sovereignty and protection were with us at every turn and bump in the road, much like life.  Amen.