Johannesburg Debrief: Epilogue
Wednesday, February 28, 2007 at 10:56AM 10 minutes into our Saturday drive home, a loud tick-tick-ticking sound sprang from the engine of our Venture, the temperature gauge shot to the red, and steaming hot liquid exploded with a bang, spraying high in the air through the cracks of our hood. The students were terrified. When we pulled over onto a very small alcove alongside the freeway they jumped out of the car. An 8-inch bolt had rattled loose from the alternator, worn our fan belt and caused it to jump off its pulleys. The belt was worn thin, but wasn’t broken. But it was off.
I had no tools to dismantle the air conditioner and alternator and get the belt back on. There was no road-side service. We weren’t sure where we were. As in all of South Africa, garages were closed for the weekend. Because of the crime, people do not stop here to help stranded vehicles. But they do regularly assault, rob and hijack. The Toyota Venture, because it is used as a taxi, is the most stolen vehicle in South Africa.
Clearly, we were screwed.
But soon a car did pull over. A small Toyota, with two black men in it. One got out, with a map and a pen in his hand, asking us for directions. I was annoyed and said I couldn’t help. As he was driving away he stuck his head out the window and asked for our cell phone number saying he’d call us if he saw an open garage. Yeah, sure, I said. Then he left.
After an hour of grunting and sweating at the side of the road we did squeeze the belt on and took off up the highway. But five minutes later it wore through completely and the familiar brown fluid exploded again from the hood. Now we were stranded in an industrial area. It was 5pm. The sun was going down. All of us were shaken. Then the phone rang.
“I’ve got a mechanic in my car. Where are you?” the voice simply said. The guy with the map had come back. I gave him directions and he drove to us. When they arrived, the two men stayed in the car; the mechanic jumped out, surveyed the problem, and said he’d go get a fan belt and some wrenches.
”How much will this cost?” I asked. “I don’t want money, man,” he said. “Just the blessings of Jesus.” Yeah, sure, I thought again.
The driver promised he’d be come right back. He spoke very few words. “Are you really sure you want to do all this driving just for us?” I asked, feeling quite indebted and guilty.
“There’s something about today…” the man said. “I just feel I have to do this.”
“At least tell me your name,” I said, thinking we could pray for him or thank him personally.
“Is that important?” he replied. “Or can I just go do my job?”
“No,” I said, feeling a little stunned. “It’s not important. Please, go ahead.” And the car left. It was 6pm.
The sun went down, and by 7pm there was no sign of them. We presumed they had given up. At 7:15 the phone rang. “We’ve been to five stores and all were closed. The sixth was open. We have the belt and we’re coming now.” Thank God, we thought. It was very dark on the freeway. We could sometimes hear distant voices behind us, off the road.
The men arrived with the belt and two wrenches. Two of them stayed in the car again, and the mechanic began his work. Two minutes later he pulled his head out from the engine: he had the wrong wrenches.
The driver agreed to go get the right wrenches. They were gone 45 minutes. When they came back the mechanic began his work again. Two minutes later he realized again he still had one wrong wrench.
I was devastated.
They left again. 45 minutes later they returned—this time carrying the whole set of wrenches—and the mechanic went to work a third time. Knuckles were scraped and bolts were lost, but an hour later he was finished and the Venture was running.
Few words were spoken through the entire ordeal. I mostly stood helpless beside the car, stunned by it all and praying these guys wouldn’t suddenly turn and decide to rob us. Until, when it was finished, the driver turned and said to me: “There’s something special about today. I don’t know what it is and may never know. But there’s something about today.”
Then they left.
He never told me his name.
Reader Comments (12)
How great is God?
I tried calling the other night, but maybe that was the same night as this story.. not sure. Anyways I couldn't leave a message, but I'll try again soon.
Love ya!
God bless you
What a surprise to hear from you! Thanks for your comments on the blog. Please keep in touch as someone who has gone through some similar struggles as our students we value your input. Hope you are doing well! You’re in our thoughts and prayers too.
As a question spoken humbly and naively from one that may have little understanding of direct missions for some time, is it possible to request funds to purchase, or have someone send a Chilton or Haynes car manual and some brief tools (wrenches, etc.) over? Is there enough time to do mechanical stuff? Is this a possible training tools for some people in Masoyi? Are these tools instantly stolen, even before pick up? I find personal help from these books and tools on my own vehicle with some easier repairs - not that this particular repairs sounded easy though.
Again, this is an amazing experience. God is with us in the little and big things.
"In times of trouble, may the Lord respond to your cry. May the God of Israel keep you safe from all harm." Psalms 20:1