Flat Tire
I knew it would happen sooner or later. You know, sometimes you just expect some kind of car trouble. Well, the other night was my night.Coming back to my apartment, we had a flat tire about two miles from my home. I was riding in our new bus. It was definitely overkill for just me to be riding in a bus, but then again, I like the 20-passenger bus for spaciousness and comfort. I can sit in the front row and stretch my legs up over the console. Stretching in any car over here in China is a rare pleasure.
As we rounded a tight turn coming off the turnpike, we heard an unusual noise. My driver was looking around and I was thinking: “Please not us.” Then as we pulled out from a stoplight, a different noise came from under the carriage. This time there was no doubt about it: “It was the bus.” But it only sounded like we were dragging something. My driver quickly pulled over and got out to inspect. I jumped out too, and soon he was pointing at something protruding from a rear tire. It was getting flatter by the second.
Well, the fire drill started then. My driver, in typical, efficient Chinese fashion, moved deliberately, and pulled out the spare and jacked up the bus. I was pretty impressed with his efforts. But then he could not get the new tire on the wheel. The wheel wasn’t high enough off the ground for the new tire to fit. It was then that I realized he had NOT put the jack under the axle, but had put it under the spring. The wheel was bending down. But that didn’t deter him. Realizing this wasn’t working he went right about correcting the mistake and put the flat tire back on the wheel so he could move the jack to a better location. But no matter how hard I tried to show to him, he wouldn’t listen to me and now he put the jack under the body. The tire never even lifted off the ground. The body went up, but the wheel just stayed down. Finally, he paid attention to my mumbling and hand motions to put the jack under the u-joint of the frame. YES… we finally got the wheel high enough to change the tire. It only took an hour and a half.
Now I’m not bragging about my prowess or knowledge about changing tires. I think most anyone knows I’m no mechanic. No, I’m more relating the typical nature of the way the Chinese go about things. They often act before they really think it through. [Some of ya might say: “That’s a typical American male.” But I didn’t say that.] And why would he listen to me. First he didn’t understand me. And second, I don’t really think my drivers believe I can even drive a vehicle much less change a tire. All I do is ride. Why should I know anything about changing a tire? Little do they know that I’ve been driving longer than they are old.
Luckily, we weren’t on some busy street at the time. We were on a wide boulevard near downtown Dongguan City. That meant there weren’t two or three hundred people walking along the street and stopping to watch us. Fortunately, there were only a few stray motorcycles. Otherwise with all these people, you usually get a lot of “help”, but no one really contributing.
Another new experience that I coulda done without: a flat tire!
posted by A Bryson (formerly) in China @ 7:41 AM
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