So. I love my bike.
I never thought I would love a bike so much. I have always appreciated the convenience of a bike, at IU I rode one for awhile and then in D.C. when Tyler got into his “A BIKE IS FREE” mode- we rode them pretty frequently.
But here… I feel like a little puppy who is experiencing his first car ride. Pure bliss- head out the window, ears flapping, tongue-hanging out, slobber flying…. that is how it feels as I am sailing down the road.
The other day while I was basking in my bliss, I decided to be fancy and turn around to go another direction and before I knew it, I was lying on the ground. My hip, hand and ego bruised pretty badly, but mostly I was shaken up because I didn’t understand how it happened. Under normal circumstances, I would not be telling people about this, but as I stood up and dusted myself off, I realized I had another bruised. I looked around me and noticed that there were 2 ladies standing down the way, a boy walking past me and an older man across the street, and not one person even glanced at me. As I rode on, attempting to console myself- I reflected. Should I have expected someone to help? Should I have expected someone to ask how I was, to glance my way? Where did those expectations come from? Is it because I am a foreigner? Don’t get me wrong, living here for the past year I have experienced unprecedented acts of kindness, which is probably why I felt so shocked that not one person acknowledged I had fallen. Obviously, I am still a little confused as to why this happened, but then I came upon this video today and even though it has nothing to do with me or my experience, it made me feel a little bit better. Like a beautiful band-aid to place over my wounds…