– Fed up of being fooled by mechanics, Yvonne Trim decided she had to learn how to fix her own vehicle

By Neil Marks
The production of the first Morris Oxford cars began in 1913, and as time passed by, different models were developed.
Yvonne Trim, 78, who lives on the way to Hubu backdam in Parika, East Bank Essequibo, has two of them in her backyard.
We are not quite sure of the year they were manufactured, but one of them, PC 210, was registered in 1955.
Her dream is to get them in working order, and take them for a sweet drive. She can’t wait.
“Just for the joy of it,” she tells the Sunday Chronicle, bearing a broad smile as if she is already in the moment. And why else would she be knocking away at these decades-old engines, sometimes even way into the evening?
Her daughter, who she lives with, would have to be the constant human alarm: “Mommy, 10 O’clock gone!”
She’d reluctantly agree to retire to bed, but those old engines would be on her mind.
“I does dream about this work in the night; in the morning soon as a I wake I gone again. I love it, I love it!

Fleeced
Ms Trim was born at Paradise, East Coast Demerara, but when her parents bought a piece of farmland, they all moved to Roden Rust along the Parika road heading to Hubu.
She got into farming herself when she got older, and helped in caring for her ten children.
Of course, the farm produce had to be taken to the market. Her boys would mostly get that done and they were the ones who knew about vehicles.
With her boys all grown and out of the house, Ms Trim still had to get the produce to the market and tried to fix whatever little issues would arise with the vehicle.
“I had to turn my own little nuts and so to get by.”
But there was only so much she could do. She now owns a small minibus, and whenever there was a problem, she’d have to call in the mechanics, but often found that she was being fleeced.
“I was fooled by many, many mechanics. They would say that they do this and do that and then charge you.
“But they didn’t do anything, because I have proof for that!”
Before we could ask to back up her claim of being conned, she pointed to one of the Morris Oxfords, presumably a Mosquito, as the Morris Minor series first released in 1948 was called.
“One day I brought the mechanics here to work on this very engine.
“I see how they take out the engine, do something, and it went ‘vrrom, vroom.’
“But when they left it never started back. I called them back, but they never came.”
It was decision time for Ms Trim.
“This is wrong, get on the track,” she remembers telling herself.

Back to school
Just about two years ago, she noticed a neighbour’s son, dressed in uniform, heading off.
She was curious to know where he was going and headed over to find out from the boy’s mother.
She learnt he was heading to the Leonora Technical Institute, West Coast Demerara to be trained as a mechanic.
Her curiosity was heightened.

“You never too big to learn,” she remembers thinking at the time.
Sure enough, she found her way to the Institute and learnt that she was not too old to enroll.
She went home, bought material for her uniform, took it to get sewn, and she was off to the institute a few days after she signed up to study motor mechanics.
“The instructor is very nice to me; he explains things in a very simple way.
“From what I gather, I can handle myself much better.”

The Institute allows Ms Trim to learn at her own pace. But she is trying to be ahead of the game.
That explains why she acquired the two Morris Oxfords and an old Wolseley – she wants to practice and use the instruction she is receiving.
“I bought the old cars because with a new car you can’t go in and trouble anything on it. But with the old cars, nobody is there to stop me from doing anything.”
When she can’t wrap her head around a problem, Ms Trim would call up one of the school instructors or she would go in and tell them.
“I love the job, I really love the job. It keeps me healthy, it keeps me fit,” she says.
Ms Trim enjoys the classes so much that she has been encouraging other women to go, including a neighbour, whose husband works as a security guard.
“I will bug them to go; they have to go,” she insists.
“I am trying to tell them not to sit down and depend on somebody. When you have to depend on people you bring a lot of eyepass on yourself, but if you can help yourself, well that’s a different story.”

One of the women she is trying to encourage is all the way on the West Bank of Demerara, many, many miles away from where she lives.
“As women, let us feel proud and be proud people. Don’t sit and depend on anyone. Don’t depend on your husband, because it is when he brings a dollar you will get to spend, but if you have your own dollar, you will get to spend anytime you want.
“I was trained that way…don’t depend on nobody; get up and get what you want.”
Before we end, would it be too obvious to state that Ms Trim can drive “anything”?