I was less than excited when, upon arriving in Siam Reap, we were told that most of our transportation over the course of the month would be by bicycle. First, I knew I would have to tell everyone that at twenty-three years of age, I never really learned how to ride a bike. Second, I knew that avoiding bicycles would only postpone the inevitable. It was time to learn. My team supported me in this challenge-turned-opportunity. Eric, though naturally athletic and somewhat unable to empathize, extended his sincere support and encouragement. Michelle, always the voice of reason, told me when I was taking myself too seriously. Mary laughed at my stories, and Kim became my personal coach, accompanying me to the side streets in the afternoon for practice.
The first afternoon, everyone jumped on their bikes and headed to the Old Market to check things out. I stayed back and got on my own bike for the first time in a long time. Mostly, I practiced starting and stopping and riding up and down the driveway. When the others would take off for school, I would opt to walk the shortcut road, at least until I was stable on the bike. It is actually a nice walk (when not raining). It takes about fifteen minutes, and I would pass by my student’s homes, only to be greeted with a chorus of “hello teacher!”
I spent a couple more afternoons practicing before hitting the roads. The learning process was discouraging at times, though mostly humbling. At first, I would panic if I needed to stop suddenly, and I would forget to use the brake. I would just put my feet down or skid off the road. The local onlookers would always find much amusement in the foreigner that couldn’t ride a bike. Adults and kids alike would giggle as they watched me start hesitantly, swerve unexpectedly, or halt suddenly.
The ride to the school is simple and relatively low in traffic. However, I was still pretty shaky, and jutting a little to the left might mean running into a car. The first day I rode to the school, Kim followed behind me and a little to the left, which also helped prevent motos and cars from getting too close. When riding on the side of the road, my entire body was tense and my mind focused on one goal, “steady as she goes.” Moto bikes, cars, and trucks would speed by me, beeping in advance to announce their presence. It was a successful ride to the school, though I stopped once or twice. When we finally arrived at the school, I was pouring sweat and my hands were shaking. But I had done it! I had ridden a bike all the way to the school. Success!
During the ride home, however, I returned to the school of humility. The traffic was a little heavier and the sky was getting dark with the setting of the sun. While the ride to school has only right-hand turns, the ride home has left-hand turns, which means navigating across oncoming traffic. Though I managed to avoid any major pile-ups, I did skid off the road once and run into the cement side of the bridge. Thus, I pulled into the driveway with some bruises, a bloody knee, a scratched up foot, and a swollen thumb (it is a feat indeed to catch you entire body weight on one finger!). (This picture, though representative of Cambodian traffic, is much more chaotic than our intersection).
I took a few days off after that incident. I treated myself to 50-cent moto rides and pleasant (wet) walks. Having noticed that I hadn’t ridden in a couple of days, Eric inquired gently, “how’s the bike riding coming?” I explained: “Ya know. I can take lessons in humility. I can even feel like an idiot most of the time. But every once in awhile, I just need to feel like a capable adult and a dignified woman.” We both laughed. And the next day, I was back on the bike.
Since then, I have learned that certain things can markedly increase the difficulty of bike riding. The blaring horns of semis and trucks right behind you. Added weight in the basket (yes, basket) on the front of the bike. Traffic going the wrong way on the street (very common). Skirts. Each a new experience. Each adding to the challenge-turned-opportunity.
Today, however, was a first for me. I had a wonderful experience on the way to school. I was actually able to relax and enjoy myself. I began to understand, finally, why people actually like bike riding. Having mastered starting, stopping, and dodging small obstacles, I also successfully used the break as a maneuvering tool and turned right-hand corners without a problem. I was feeling pretty invincible. It wasn’t long, however, before I returned once again to humility.
On the way back home, I almost hit a stationary car, a moving car, and a small child (the poor girl was looking at me like “please don’t run over me!”). And I totally crashed and burned while trying to keep my skirt from flying in the wind. I now have a scraped elbow to add to my list of minor injuries.
At the end of the day, I am grateful for the encouragement I have received from my supportive family here. (Eric even called me ‘hardcore’ this morning). I am proud of myself for not walking away from an opportunity, and for putting down the ice packs and band-aides and getting back on the bike. And I am thankful for lessons in humility that remind me that the most fierce warrior-daughters-of-the-King can be schooled in bike riding by a seven-year-old.
