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April 03, 2003 : once again, the bike
Ah freedom without a scooter. It is spelled out in four letters. B-I-K-E. Today it wasn't the warmest of days. In light of yesterday's letter requesting I return the grossly-overdue CDs, I decided to make an afternoon of it (sort of) and return the CDs on bike. I headed to the bank only to find my bottom-dollar a very bottom Euro. So low in fact that I couldn't get any money out and certainly not the 30 some Euro I was supposed to get out. Instead, I figured on salvaging the day with a bike-ride. To be honest, I had misjudged the weather a bit. It wasn't warm or cold and the wind was misleading. Out of the wind, it was fairly warm, with the wind and behind a cloud, it was quite chilly. I had on my more wintry coat and my stocking cap and scarf and a half-hour into the ride I was worried that people would mistake my face of exertion as a face of mild pain and/or trauma. (red-faced!) I loosed my scarf and removed the hat and unbuttoned my jacket a bit. But like I said, it's hard to find a happy medium in a spring day half-warm and half-cold. I went down roads I have traveled time and time again and also snaked down alleys I've never seen before. I noticed places perfect for my end-of-year show and made mental notes of places to show Eva. I've come to the conclusion that inner-city travel is best done on two wheels and if one is on a bike, best done on a non-windy day. The wind is quite a deterrent and when it's sweeping down streets it seems to always be holding you back. One one particular street I passed a little old man walking with a cane carrying his grocery bag in one hand. I did something I try not to do which is the same as not doing something I usually want to do. He was obviously struggling a bit, shuffling one foot at a time, and for a brief moment I said to myself, "you should stop and ask if he needs help." The next flash brought me to the thought, "well this is probably how he walks now, and maybe he's simply excited that he can get out at all, so maybe it's best not to ask him." So I kept riding along. At the end of the street I turned back around and then he was just standing there, as if the moment I had passed, his burden had simply become too great, that his shuffling no longer worked. "Come on Andrea, keep riding, it's ok. If something is wrong someone else will take care of it." And further down the street (a particularly rare, straight street in Antwerp) and still he was standing there frozen with his arms at his side. It wasn't as if he was standing there doing anything in particular. There are some people that can roll a roll-your-own cigarette with one hand and still walk at the same time (I've seen it done.) but he was just standing there. And then the street turned a bit. What lingers about the moment is not that I didn't a guy that perhaps needed help. It wasn't the language barrier that crossed my mind. The whole point is that I just didn't ask. He might have certainly said something I didn't understand, but most people can make out a friendly gesture and smile it off. I should have at least stopped. On the way home I was almost knocked onto the sidewalk by a car, and other than that it was a pretty uneventful (thankfully) ride. I've come up with an idea about recording my bike rides (something I hope to start doing more once the weather turns all-around beautiful) and perhaps if I act on this concept I'll take the interactive step, until then, I'm just going to ride on the bike-the-bike-the-bike. Once again, if you haven't, please download Amy Correia's The Bike. IN THE NEWS: ALSO IN THE NEWS: |