We left Dembi Dollo at 6:30 AM Friday morning, heading back to Gimbie after a visit to Mugi Clinic. Mark Squires was at the wheel, Ayantu and Yohannes were sitting in the other bucket seats, and Petra, Kristin, and I were bouncing and sliding on the vinyl benches in the back. Our goal was to make an 11:00 AM inspection appointment at Guliso Clinic.
All of a sudden, we were skidding and fish-tailing on the gravel road. Once we had come to a stop, Mark and Yohannes jumped out to investigate. “Is it a flat tire?” we called out to Mark? “No, it’s worse,” he said. I went out to see for myself. The front left tire was perpendicular to the other three. Seeing it gave me a sick feeling just like an out-of-joint limb would.
Mark sent Petra, Kristin, and I in search of a fallen nut and washer. We combed the road for 100 meters back and dredged the puddles but didn’t find anything. We definitely entertained the hordes of children and adults who gathered to watch us, though.
Ayantu met us as we trudged back to the ambulance. Yohannes’s finger had been “cut,” she said. Actually, the tip had been cut off! He isn’t a mechanic and didn’t methodically ratchet up the safety stand as Mark jacked up the ambulance. The jack gave out, and the ambulance fell . . . on his finger. About a centimeter of it lay on the ground for a couple of hours before someone tossed it into the bushes. We were all sick about it. Yohannes is a carpenter by trade. He received some informal training in optometry in January and came on the Mugi trip to sell eyeglasses. But his primary job is to be the hospital’s carpenter.
So the situation was basically bad. The ambulance was broken down 6 hours from Gimbie without the proper parts or tools to repair it; the inspection appointment in Guliso would be impossible to make; Yohannes the carpenter had lost the tip of his right pointer finger; all of us were tired and dirty and were grumpy at the prospect of not being home for Sabbath.
I was trying to roll with the punches and not get terribly frustrated, but I wasn’t being a Polyanna either. I wasn’t expecting to find a reason for our problems. I tend to think that God allows for a great deal of chaos to reign in the world because of sin. He interferes sometimes, but I don’t believe that “everything happens for a reason.” That’s why I was surprised by all of the convenient coincidences we started to encounter:
1. Right before we started skidding, the ambulance (which has an automatic transmission) switched into low gear. Mark was puzzled, because we were on a flat stretch. This resulted in our being at a slower speed when the bolt dropped and the tire turned sideways.
2. Ayantu, Kristin, and I walked about 40 minutes to Chanka to try to buy a match for the bolt that had been stripped and a corresponding nut and spring washers. I was worried, because the ambulance is an American vehicle, and it seemed unlikely that we would find the exact part we needed. At the edge of town, we met a mechanic. Ayantu explained the situation to him, and he immediately led us to another mechanic’s shop where he disappeared for a moment before producing the exact bolt and nut we needed. The washers required some more explaining, but he eventually found those, too. It was easier than any encounter I’ve ever had at an auto-part store in the US!
3. Mark was thrilled with the bolt and accessories, but he still needed a mallet to bang the front suspension swing arm loose from where it had lodged itself. He asked the men helping him if he could find one somewhere. One of them immediately went to his hut and produced one!
4. Shortly after Ayantu, Kristin, and I returned from town, a Land Cruiser pulled up and stopped. We started chatting about our problems and noticed their back seat was empty. “Where are you going?” we asked. “Gimbie,” the responded. We explained Yohannes’s plight, and they agreed to take him to the hospital. Petra and Kristin climbed in, too, because 3 people can sleep in the ambulance much more comfortably than 5 people. As they pulled away, I stood there dumbstruck. I’ve hitchhiked along that road a couple times and unsuccessfully TRIED to hitchhike along that road many times. I’ve NEVER had a nearly empty Land Cruiser on its way to Gimbie stop for me.
Mark and his helpers exceeded even their own expectations and had the ambulance in working order about 90 minutes after the Land Cruiser left. We set off eastward. I sat in the front seat, enjoying the comfort and the view, and pondering all the day’s blessings. “If God is concerned enough about us to work out all these details, why didn’t He just keep the accidents from happening? Wouldn’t keeping the wheel bolted together have been just as easy as forcing the engine to shift down? Wouldn’t have holding up the jack and saving Yohannes’s finger been just as easy as sending a Land Cruiser for him?”
An answer was waiting in Inango. A large crowd of people blocked the street. They parted as we approached, but a police officer waved for us to stop. There had been a lightning strike, and he wanted us to take a victim to the hospital. We cleared off the bench, and people carried in a man without a pulse. “Nama sedi,” he said: “Three people.” We thought that meant the patient and 2 relatives, but 2 more men were carried inside and set on the floor where the gurney should have been. Following them were 2 others with less severe burns. The patients were accompanied by 3 relatives and, for part of the way, by the policeman.
The first man was pronounced dead-on-arrival, but the other 4 are doing well. It seemed to me that our arrival in Inango at that precise moment with plenty of room in the back justified our difficulties. But then again, if God went to all that trouble to coordinate our arrival, why didn’t he just prevent the lightning strike?
God’s ways will always be mysterious to us. It is fruitless to try to untangle His providence from human choice and from the forces of nature and of evil in the world. God has promised to “work for the good of those who love Him” in any and all situations, but I still don’t think that means He engineers tragedies and other difficulties. I could be wrong, though.
However . . . as far as the finger is concerned . . . this accident might be Yohannes’s ticket to optometry school. His carpentry days are likely over, now that he is missing part of his right index finger and still suffers the effects of an earlier accident in which he cut the tendons leading to his left hand. There isn’t exactly workman’s comp in Ethiopia, so the least the hospital could do is find a sponsor for him and set him on a new career path. It would be great for the hospital to have a trained optometrist, too. And I think Yohannes would gladly give a whole finger or two for a chance like that. Any sponsors willing to contribute $30 a month?