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Thursday, February 25, 2010

♥ Bicycles and Me are not meant to Be


When I was ten-years-old, my sister, a friend, and I decided to play follow the leader on our bicycles. It was less than epic, mainly just riding around our cul-de-sack, maybe doing a few wibbly-wobblies or something, but it was hardly an adventure. It was good fun, that was, until I decided to show them all up and do a full 360 degree flip on my bicycle. This would have been amazing, had I not broken both of my arms in the process. Nine weeks later I could move my arms again, but I refused to get back on a bicycle. That was until I came to Japan. I knew I'd have to conquer my fear of it, and so I got on my bike (took me around a week to get up the courage) and after flailing around a bit and nearly falling, I got back used to it. Seems you don't ever forget how to ride one after all.

I quickly became a bicycle master. I could use one hand or no hands, balance precariously between a car and a ditch, and had no general fear. This was made quite true in Beijing where I literally had to ride through crazy ass traffic in a city where there are no traffic laws and even the police have no issue in running you over. I thought I had conquered it all, but, in fact, it was the great achievement before the dismal failure.

I had decided to go out for lunch to send money home and get some actual non-combini food. As I was coming back, quite pleased (it was a beautiful day), I passed the FamilyMart and, as usual, a Japanese person pulled in without looking. I swerved behind him to avoid being hit and crossed the street. I hit the curb wonky and went flying, crashing to the ground to the viewing of downtown Nishi-Yaizu. Also, as usual, no one asked if I was alright or stopped to help me, instead they stared or ignored me as I got myself up, shaking, and bloodied. I've talked before about how the lack of action on the Japanese makes me furious, but after being a victim of it, I felt not only that, but incredibly embarrassed, and even more of a spectacle than I already am being a foreigner in this town. I eventually made it back to school, my bike squeaking and hard to pedal (I still haven't quite figured out what I did to it) and barely able to move my legs. My right hand was unusable and after I finally make it to the school, I got it wrapped and returned to my desk, not letting anyone know what happened. A few have noticed today that I'm either limping or my hand is bandaged, and while there's nothing seriously wrong with me (worst is that my knees are swelling), I do miss just the simple "Are you OK?". This isn't to say everyone in Japan doesn't give a shit, some do, but there's that whole expressing it bit.

Anyways. Fear of bikes has been restored, even though it was mainly my fault, I shouldn't have kept going, I should have just stopped. Mainly I'm just exhausted, achy, and rather pissed classes were thrown at me today. At least my World Music lessons is easy and enjoyable. I don't have to do a whole lot.

I am so over this week. Ugh.

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そうですね。。。
10:56 AM


♥ Kristina



      The Curls. The girl. The Nippon.

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