To Change a Tire

To Change a Tire

I noticed the truck tire, still on the rim, on the ground next to the dump truck.  Someone had removed it the night before after noticing that it was flat.  The lug nuts were no where in sight and a piece of wood lay nearby.  Those were the facts as I saw them.

I thought about working on it this morning but I decided not to since I didn’t know if it needed replacing or needed patched.  The crew wandered in around eight so I thought I’d just sit and watch and see what happened.

It was a little strange as everyone seemed to know already about the tire.  I suppose Sony had let them know about it since he was the only one not around. 

Betta was the first to leap into action; of a sort.  He took the garden hose next to the sea container, turned it on and hosed the tire.  Meanwhile, Kiki, Mono, Andre and Jules filed out of the storage container loaded with assorted hammers and pry bars.  Betta took one of the bars and started prying the tire bead up.  Andre grabbed another bar and started prying, too.  An argument ensued.  Of course, all work stopped while a forum was held on whose prying was doing the most.  It wasn’t  just those two either, the other men jumped in just as fast to throw in their opinion.  It ended in a few minutes and the prying resumed along with two of the other men jumping up and down on the tire helping to keep the other side of the bead in the rim groove.

Eventually the tire popped off.  A new one was rolled out of the storage compartment and dropped onto the concrete.  Mono came out with a cup of motor oil and gave it to Junior.  He dipped his hand in it and started smearing oil around the tire bead.  Meanwhile Betta brought the rim up, found a rag and cleaned the dirt off of it.  Andre popped up with an oil soaked rag and started to lubricate the rim.  Once done they laid the rim down, put the tire on it and established another discussion group on how to position the tire on the rim and where to start prying.  Tensions rose, volumes reached feverish pitches and everyone was yelling at once.  It reminded me of a cock fight.  Eventually the hands  stopped waving, a pry bar was inserted and the tire started its way onto the bead. 

Once the tire was on the bead they set it up and leaned it against the truck.  I started the service truck up to charge the air tanks with the air compressor.  Once up to pressure Andre aired up the Cheetah, a tool used to blow a bunch of air at one time into the rim to set the tire beads.  Of course, Andre didn’t insert the air chuck correctly so all the Haitians in a radius of ten miles immediately informed him of such …. Actually it was only the six watching him; although it very well could have been all those in a ten mile radius by all the yakking in Creole, waving of hands and feverish emotions.

The tire finally got its initial charge of air.  The chuck was changed to a regular valve stem type and filling the tire ensued.  We have four air chucks, none of which work very well and all leak air.  Each one was used sixteen times during the filling process.  In between each chuck change tempers flared, Creole was exchanged in every note and pitch of the sound spectrum and I could feel the breeze produced by the hand motions and arm waving.  Of course that added another thirty minutes to the inflation procedure.  I could only sit by and watch with a small smile and a slowly shaking head.  I was amazed how many words per second could actually be expressed in Creole.  I think it exceeded the speed of sound.

The tire finally filled with air.  It was rolled over to the truck and aligned with the axle.  It appears the jack settled during the night and now it does not want to jack up.  That mysterious board next to the truck is placed behind the tire to keep it from rolling away and another board meeting is called as to its proper usage, and also to determine if there is another jack in Haiti.  Another one is appropriated from the service truck and further negotiations ensue as to its proper location.  Then the truck is raised enough to slide the tire on the shaft.  Lug nuts appear from thin air, all but two at least, and they are drilled into place with an impact wrench; no particular order or torque needed …. Its Haiti.  Another fiery, multilingual expression of blame and the additional two lug nuts come flying out of the truck cab.  Betta, in good form, screws them on and sets them with the impact; no specified torque required.  The jack is lowered, debris is relocated to another unimportant part of the lot and the tire is finished.

I could only stand in amazement and wonder how it happened.  A new tire was on the truck.  So I guess that in Haiti, it takes at least six men to change a tire.  One to do the work and five to explain how to do it better.

Sounds like the States.