It was the first time in over two and a half years. As expected, I did not forget how to ride a
bike. I did forget how smoothly and
quietly one can move through even the largest imaginable sea of humanity with
ease and grace on a bicycle.
S2 bought a bicycle a few months ago. We scoured the bike shops we could find by internet
searches and the “bike street” someone told him about. This is a street with several, no, MANY
second-hand bike stores, as well as twenty times more stores full of motorcycle
parts. It was always much more of his
quest to get a bicycle than it was mine.
I was just along to help with navigating. His mission was to get a bicycle that he
could commute to work on (in his adult life, there’s only been once he
couldn’t walk or ride a bike to his work place).
He found one in November and started pedaling in early December (just
after the typhoon).
It is a fairly complex sequential process for him, packing
the needed clothes plus work computer and various other projects that go back
and forth. He’s able to keep all the
needed toiletries in a locker at school, as well as all his dress shoes (he
inherited SEVERAL pair of size 13 shoes in early October – not easy to find in
southeast Asia). Colleagues provide us
with numerous photos of him cycling, as he can, at times, go faster than the
faculty buses that take us home after school.
Those phones with cameras, they are everywhere.
Side note: The library has white carpet, so it is one of the
“shoes off” venues in the school. Yes,
even the Coordinator of Library Services walks around the library with no shoes
on (my classroom is also a no shoes venue).
You can imagine S2’s excitement when I showed interest this
week in buying the bicycle of a departing, pregnant colleague who lives in our
building. S2 had seen the bike, knew it
was suitable for me, and felt the asking price was worth it. The colleague, departing in 2 weeks to have
the baby in her home country, was asking for a deposit on
10-pages of personal items she and her husband are selling. When I inquired if she was willing to take
the whole payment now (so I could start using the bike, since she’s going to be
gone for three and a half months having a baby and waiting for the baby’s
passport before she returns for two weeks and then MOVES back to her home country), she was hesitant, wanting to maybe ride it one more time. Her husband and I were able to reassure her
that she might not want to ride it again AND if she did, she could certainly
borrow it. Thus, I am now the proud
owner of a bicycle – a brand I’ve never heard of and can’t remember as
I write this (the bicycle is in the basement, with other bicycles and countless
motorcycles, and a few cars).
Once I mentioned I was interested in a ride this weekend, S2
eagerly brought it in the apartment to clean it and tune it up. He regaled me with the numerous options – a rear
hub brake, a hub-dynamo powered front headlight (that we can’t figure out how
to turn off), 6-speeds with a rear derailleur, a grip shifter, a 3-cross spoke
pattern, a basket, and a built-in quick lock (reminiscent of our Dutch bikes)
to name the most outstanding features.
The weakest parts were the decaying side walls of both tires and a back
rack that doesn’t meet our bike touring standards (not that I was planning on
going for more than an hour bike ride anyhow).
We set off before 7 this morning. I knew the hardest part of the ride would be
the three left turns of the loop we would ride.
I was not disappointed, but crossing the road in HCMC is a blog entry in
and of itself that I’m not ready to write about yet.
As I pedaled along with the flow of traffic, on a side
street void of buses, trucks, and delivery vans (shoot, there aren't even any cars on it), in what we affectionately call “the neighborhood” I was overwhelmed
with familiarity. As I breezed along, I
remember my cycling time in SE Asia, 30 years ago. I pondered what was the same and what was
different.
The same:
- the sea of humanity out moving, working, playing, eating, and shopping at such an early hour,
- the wide variety of items being transported on two wheels, or maybe three wheels
- the number of two-wheeled vehicles carrying two or more people (I have seen five on a motorbike, but two, three, and four are most common)
- the bright red, pink, yellow, and sometimes orange and purple, of the ubiquitous flowers that can grow anywhere and everywhere (as we approach the annual Tet celebration, yellow is the most predominant color in both flower and decorations)
- the familiar thwack of a meat cleaver hitting a chopping board as the open-air butcher prepares the meat for the day
- the baskets of fresh vegetables and fruits, many uncommon to North American supermarkets
- the stainless-steel fabricators selling shoe racks, shower racks, water racks, and my favorite – the porch swing (I want to get one for our balcony but it would have to be a one-seater given the narrowness of the balcony)
- the BIG wooden furniture shops (are those pieces made in the back, or delivered to such neighborhood shops – and if they are delivered, what motorized transport delivers them?)
- the countless clothing stores (where do they get all that clothing?)
- the basic, simple, plain café – plastic knee-high chairs and tables set up out to the very edge of the street, yet traffic is of no concern to the person enjoying their morning coffee or tea
- the occasional jeweler (selling gold and silver, most likely with a scale)
- the recognition that I am entitled to just as much road space as anyone else
The difference:
- the overwhelming presence of countless motorbikes
- the constant noise, including honking from the countless motorbikes
- the gritty, sooty feel of the air from the exhaust of the countless motorbikes
- the lack of open sewer ditches – they have concrete covering now with regularly spaced storm drains
- the number of plastic bags and bottles in the piles of trash that are being swept up by the stick-broom sweepers (the street cleaners) – the world really needs to do something about our addiction to plastic
We pedaled along this neighborhood artery (although we had
to be well out of the range of “our neighborhood”) until a cross street that
takes us past our school and ties into the more heavily traveled divided
highway that brings us back home. We
pedaled side-by-side on the cross street, reminiscent of the old days, sharing
impressions and feelings, as it had so little traffic on it. We passed a turkey farm, a geese farm, a
number of construction projects, including an obvious subdivision with a security
gate that does not let stray bicyclists in, and lots of trees before we could
see the two 6-story buildings we lovingly call “our school”. I’ve recently befriended a young man who waits
on the sidewalk for HIS bus transport to work at the same time I wait for MY
bus transport to work. He’s mentioned
more than once how BIG my school is.
From this vantage point, I had a new understanding of
his perspective.
Side note: The gardeners took all the Pre-K students to the
mango trees on campus this week. All 36
students, all 3 teachers, all 3 teaching assistants, and all 4 nannies were
given a mango to take home.
It seemed like an easy glide home on the big highway; two
bridges, one stoplight and Sunday morning traffic. Sure, there were the vendors selling fresh
coconuts (and the odd-vehicle stopped at the side of the road to buy one), and the
quail vendors – selling both live and dead plucked quails (but THAT vendor wasn’t
using a blow torch to remove all the feathers as I’ve seen before), but I didn’t
see anyone fishing in the median ponds, full of slightly more water this week
due to the unusually high tides brought on by the waning moon.
Yes, I’m sure to take another bike ride here, one day. It might not be for a few weeks, as we’ve got
a long break coming up this week. The Tet
Celebration (Lunar New Year) sees families return to the ancestral home to
spend a day showing respect for and honoring the FATHER and his side of the
family, another day showing respect for and honoring the MOTHER and her side of
the family, a third day showing respect for and honoring the TEACHERS and their
families, and a lot of eating and visiting.
We’re going to Laos, but don’t expect an update for at least two weeks.
