Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle! I want to ride my Bicycle!

now, I know I have very briefly mentioned my bike riding in a previous blog but biking is such an integral part of my daily Ugandan experience it would not be fair for me to not give it the proper spotlight and attention it deserves.

My first personal experience with bike riding in Uganda occurred my first week of training. Since I live furthest from our raining site (an estimated 2 miles), myself and one other girls were the first to be "presented" (after a thorough lesson of bike safety and security of course) with our dear and darling Hero bikes. (the brand name of the bike is a Hero--don't be deceived by this, you will soon come to find that they are anything but...) At this same time, we were also given our classic white helmets, a pump, a bright orange bike lock, and tool kit that consists of 2 flat metal tools with a bunch of weird shaped holes in them that somewhat resemble wrenches.

The Hero is not just any bike however. It has a frame that can be described as a cross between a road bike and beach cruiser with similar style tires. It has a single gear and comes complete with hand breaks that don't work, a rear view mirror that is loose and flops around, a seat that will be the death of me because it is also loose and so every time I go over a bump (and there are many) it flips up and I have to do a VERY awkward move to get it back to normal (this "move" involves me sliding my butt forward while also applying pressure to the front part of the seat with my inner thigh while also trying to continue pedaling) Real lovely. And, believe you me, I have definitely busted our my flat wrench like tools to try and remedy the situation but, the seats are just not to be reckoned with.

There are a few redeeming factors to my Hero. The Hero has an amazingly sturdy back rack which can be used for most anything. Although I have not personally attempted any of the following I have seen all done on several occasions... chickens tied to the back, people hitching rides (I have actually, with my own two eyes, several bikes with 5 people on them), other bikes tied sideways onto the rack (talk about a wide load), as well as 30-35 pineapples,huge bundles of sticks, jerrycans full of water, and every other imaginable thing that would need to move from one place to another but is too heavy for one person to carry. But, the thing that is most redeeming about my Hero bike, is its bell.

Now, I have to admit that at first I felt apprehensive about ringing my bell. I have never been one for horns in general. I don't honk them in cars, I don't ring them at counters, I feel like on bikes they are for little girls with pig tails and streamers. I'm just not that into them. I guess mainly I just felt weird about belling people to get out of my way. I was very quick to learn however, that the bell of a Hero is not a child's toy in any way shape or form. It is a tool, sometimes a weapon, but always a necessity. When people hear the bell they know you mean business and to move out of the way. I would always do my very best to not hit someone but the roads are rough our there and when you hear bells behind you and turn around to see a bike gaining on you with 5 people in tote you move, and fast, because they are not stopping.

So many of both my best and worst moments have happened while ringing (or attempting to ride) my Hero. As you can imagine, it is sometimes difficult to get going when riding in a skirt. There has been more than one occasion where I have been taking off and my skirt has gotten tangled and I have gotten flustered and basically just tipped over and fallen off. My bike has also been a course of integrating with the community however. Just last week, my chain fell off (for the millionth time) and for some reason this time it got stuck in the guard thing so I was having more trouble than usual in getting it back on. A really nice national stopped though and sat there with me for a good 7 or 8 minutes trying to help me fix the problem. He spoke no english and I basically can only do greetings and thanks in the local language but we got along just fine and before I knew it, the job was done, and I was back on my way.

--Those are the moments when I really appreciate my Hero. Sometimes, after a long day I just ride along, maneuvering around vegetable markets, chapati stands, boda-boda drivers, and the occasional gawker until I get out of town and begin heading into the country and home. Here, my obstacle become chickens, cattle ( I don't know what breed they are but they have really long pointy horns that really freak me out), and the terrain of a BMX track. But throughout the entire ride I don't have to listen to sirens or loud annoying traffic, or see huge skyscrapers in every direction... i am completely surrounded by green plants and blue sky and things are just great. :)