Fix a flat

This morning when I went outside I saw that it had a flat tire. I checked the valve, was it in correctly and it was. I tried the pump and could not get any air out of it. Ah, it's the pump not me. This should be easy to fix, there are motorbike repair places every 10 meters here because the main mode of transportation is motorbikes. That's when you are not looking for one. The guys at the repair shop right out the hotel's driveway for the hotel wouldn't help me, though. I walked around a bit and found two fellows working on a motorbike beside the road. One was spray painting the front fender with a small spray gun attached to an air compressor. That means he has air.

I asked for help, and after a five-minute search, they located an air valve, attached it to the hose. They pumped the tire up and I was off.

Now that that is done, I can hunt for a laundry.

I picked up my clothes, less underwear, I was told the laundries do not do that here, and headed off for one of the laundries labeled on the volunteer map. When I arrived there was a man standing in front of the shop holding a young baby. He took the clothes out of my bag and told me that my laundry would be done tomorrow between 16:00 and 17:00.

After dropping things at the laundry I decided to ride around town. Up and down some of the streets, I passed the hospital, several municipal buildings and homes varying from very poor to opulent. I ended up near the bank where I now have an account. That was great I knew where I was so I turned toward town.

Because the road has one to two centimeters of dust and sand on the side I was riding on the pavement. A large truck passed me and I moved to the side, in the dust and dirt but it was unstable. A dump truck passed me and I managed to keep to the pavement. A few hundred meters further on, I noticed it was slowing and the driver actually put on a right turn signal, something you don't expect here. I slowed down and stayed behind the truck as two motorbikes passed me. The truck turned right onto a dirt road, I heard what sounded like a gun shot. What was that? At that moment, I was engulfed in a thick choking cloud of dust and sprayed with sand. The truck had just blown a tire. When you have to, you can think quite quickly.

I thought the truck is out of the way. Will the motorbikes stop in the dust or carry on. They are probably already thought the dust. I should just keep my eyes close and carry on. Squinting as I came out on the other side of the dust cloud, I passed a small crowd of people looking up the road to see what had caused the noise.