One Day in Haiti, Part VI
We went to work on the manual pump (sorry, no pics because Alida was taking video that are on George’s website.) George didn’t really know much about it, but I did, being an old, experienced sailor. It was a very elegant engineering solution: a heavy duty marine bilge hand pump, 6 gal. a minute. George installed it, dropped the hose and filter into the well and the kids stood around singing while he pumped it for the first time. And no sooner did the water come jetting out the hose that the pump failed. George was mildly upset and perplexed as to what to do because the screws, way to short, IMO, had stripped from the heavy duty plastic housing. So we drilled the holes out and tried nyties. Nope. No go. Water squirted out from the sides; the pieces weren’t held together close enough.

So I asked Madame if she and her assistant would take me to the closest hardware store and off we went. We found bolts, washers and nuts here (I’m in the orange shirt).

And back we went. I drilled the holes out more and through-bolted the pump halves. Perfect. We had water! Lots of water!

We give the kids the plaque to hang at the orphanage.

It’s now 4:15, and we’re several hours behind schedule because of the time we lost while Customs held the truck hostage.

 

The border closes at 5pm. NOTHING goes through then, period. We did NOT want to spend the night. No way. So we bid a fond farewell, loaded up and headed to the border. We approach it.

There were a few minor paperwork hassles, but these guys watched.

They were Chilean, Uruguayan and Canadian.

 
 

Finally, back in the DR!