So...once upon a time there were HEAPS of contract workers at the farm and it was the weekend, so there were HEAPS of kids around too... so the whitey decided that since everyone had been working so hard for so long that some music would cheer the place up a bit. There was no radio in sight so the whitey decided to use her car as a giant stereo.
Well, with african rasta blasting out across the landscape, the kids flocked to the car to dance and perform to their reflections in the paint work, while the mothers paused to watch and smile. The young men even heartily joined in singing - busting some moves with their hoes (the other kind)
It was one of those perfect moments really, where everyone is smiling and life is good.
Eventually the music stopped- which didn't surprise the whitey cos her MP3 player was low on battery. She explained with a smile that the battery was flat and continued measuring out contour marker ridges. Little did she know the truth of her words.
An hour later the 6 workers who jovially piled into the car to catch a lift home were sadly disappointed. After working 6am-11am, they found themselves pushing a car uphill along a bike track in the heat of the day. We tried roll starting it 5 times and eventually decided to push it the km back to the gravel road. 15 kids joined in for the fun.
The whitey was frustrated. It was Sunday. She was 45 min drive from help. The flat battery was her own fault. She called her dad :) her dad gave great advice but unfortunately was about 12 hours drive away, so the young men from the local village wandered out to show off their manly car fixing abilities. It was the village spectacle. At one stage a guy sat in the drivers seat pumpinng the clutch saying we needed to get fuel through the lines. The same guy wanted to take all the spark plugs off. Thankfully we didn't have the right tools.
Then a battery appeared from somewhere and they connected the terminals using a knife, a pair of plyers, a piece off the jack and a scrap piece of metal. That managed to get enough power to get the starter motor ticking, so they went off in search of wire and returned with some copper wire from a radio. Two hours after the problem was first discovered it was collectively decided that it was time to start pushing again. This time the bonnet was open with the new battery perched on top of the engine. This time a guy ran along side holding the wires to the terminals. This time the car car roared to life. The village cheered. The kids wooped. The 'mechanics' asked for money.
Money paid and arguements settled, the workers once again jumped in the car. Fanta? the whitey asked. Applause. Minutes later everyone was sitting in the shade drinking cold fanta and munching on peanuts, the car quietly idling nearby. 'no more music' the whitey said with a smirk.
