I couldn’t justify a nice motorcycle. I got all the way to the shop, found the one I liked, even sat on it and had that,
“Get yer motor runnin’......head out on the highway” sensation, but a few seconds after that I just had the feeling I’d enjoy it a little too much. It would be hard enough to show up in my village with a scooter, when most everyone else takes a taxi. As soon as I began thinking in terms of bibles, those hundreds of dollars began to weigh out in my mind, and I couldn’t go through with it.
But after my last tap-tap ride I decided it was time to do something. I couldn’t picture trying to get one of my kids to the hospital in Cayes on the back of a tap-tap, making 20 stops. I went with Patchouko and bought the cheapest little scooter I could find.
It will go from point A to point B. It will not go up the mountain. It will not go faster than 40 mph, and it will break down. Soon as I hit the gravel road on the way back to the village, I realized that I’m basically riding on an engine that feels like the equivalent of my push mower back home. It felt like nuts and bolts were already working loose.
We will use it to get water and to go the market.
We will use it to get a case of bibles.
It will ride one child in an emergency, two if it’s necessary.
The whole family won’t fit, but it will do in a pinch.
I’m still praying for transportation for all 4 of us, but for now we have the means to get to food and water, and I’m scratching transportation semi-off my list. Praise God.