Got me Some Wheels....

I got me some wheels.

Two actually.

They are motorized…. By me.

Yep, that’s right, I got me a bicycle! And she’s  beaut! 21 speeds  (only 14 work), two brakes (only one works) , a rusty chain (it skips sometimes), a kickstand (I have to hold it up with a bungee cord while in motion), and best of all, a BELL!

I wish I could’ve taken each of you along with me to purchase this bike. Instead, my housemate, Nancy, went with me. Allow me to paint you a picture.

The day was sweltering, and we’d been up early to have our visa interview at immigration. The two of us, all dressed up in skirts, full makeup, and heels, decided to go ‘look’ at bikes during the two hours of free time we had. We overshot our destination, and had to walk back under an overpass. It seems that that specific block was the ‘vulcanizing’ block. In other words, everybody and his brother has a stand set up to change tires, repair tires, or sell strings of rubber pieces. So, we stepped over the streams of oil that slithered from open shop fronts, past sad looking dogs with various degrees of permanently altered anatomy, and around large trucks whose emissions are turning the weather from sunny to partly cloudy. Finally, we stood in front of the 14 foot tall chain-link fence topped with barbed wire that was the bone yard of bicycles.

As we entered, four heads went up, and eight eyes locked on us. The 4 ‘grease monkeys’ repairing bikes were fascinated by our white skin. A bit of swift chattering between them and one approached us with the standard, “Hullo mom, how are you today?” I have to admit, I’ve never seen anything like it. Bikes here, bikes there, stacks and rows of bikes EVERYWHERE! Horizontal rows of bikes pushed as closely together as was possible and vertical stacks of bikes far higher than my head. At least we had selection!

Eagerly, Nancy and I approached the rows and rows of bicycles. Ancient ‘cruisers’ and ‘day bikes’ with wide handlebars and a single speed, child-sized bikes with pink fenders, and a few mountain bikes in the mix. We began to question, and found that there are certain things to look for. They will not replace tires or chain, so if you want decent ones, find them now.

 “How much is this one, ma’am?” 

“Oh 2500 mom.”

“Oh Salamat. And this one?”

“Oh mom, 3000 mom.”

“3000?” I replied, “Why is that one 2500, and this one is 3000?”

“Oh mom, double suspension mom.”

Oh clearly. I alert Nancy that if we want to stay in our price range, we have to avoid anything that looks like it possesses the possibility of offering even a small amount of comfort. The three bikes we find that show some promise are conveniently located in the middle of the row. There is an ‘aisle’ of about 4 inches between the rows, and all the bikes are tied together. I guess we’ll leave the task of getting these bikes free to the employees.

Our bikes are freed and wheeled to the ‘test area’. We have about a 30 foot circle of gravel and large stones on a slope that we can test drive our bikes in. You have to miss the metal pressing machine on one side, and a row of vintage refrigerators on the other side. Three employees come out to watch us, and the bike chains are so rusted that they keep locking up. Our knee length skirts aren’t really helping matters. Finally, I take the plunge and just ride through the warehouse on the left. I find several optimal opportunities for testing the bell, as warehouse workers cross my path, little expecting that a white girl on a barely operational bicycle with ill-functioning brakes is flying toward them.

Nancy and I consult, and express a few concerns with the bikes we’ve chosen. I ask that they raise the seat so I can accurately judge how the frame size works for me. A little higher, just a little higher… Oh! The bike seat is so small, that the post just came flying right off! The guy runs off, and returns in a few minutes with a much taller seat that he scavenged off another bike. Nancy and I look at each other, having a collective ‘aha!’ moment… this is totally ‘build-a-bike’! Up and down the rows we trek, pointing to various pieces that we would like added to our bikes. Can we have this bike light? Will you put this reflector on the front of mine? Can we get a back rack?

 “Oh yes mom, brand new, local made bike rack!”

 “But I want THIS bike rack.”

“Oh no mom, original.”

“Really?!” I replied “Can’t you put this wonderful brand new, local made bike rack on THIS bike, and give me the original?”

“Oh no mom.”

“Why not? It would be worth more because its brand new and local made.”

“Oh no mom. Because of my boss.”

“Oh. Can I talk to your boss?”

Nervous giggling.

Ok. I guess not. So much for that. I end up with the ‘local made’ bike rack.

 Then there was the bell. I decided fairly quickly, which bell I wanted. Nancy , on the other hand….  This bell was annoying. That bell wasn’t serious enough. The bell over there was nice, but it gets stuck sometimes. This bell has too high-pitched of a tone. That one doesn’t mean business enough. She and I literally rang EVERY SINGLE BELL IN THE WHOLE BIKE YARD…. TWICE!!!! Bells on parked bikes, bells on stacked bikes, and finally, as we were standing there watching them tune up our selections, I pulled a bell out of a pile of various scraps, and rang that one too. I rang it once, and Nancy and I looked at each other. I rang it again, and we both bust out laughing. Of all things, the pathetic bell from the junk pile ended up being ‘the one’.  Our poor sales people just stared and stared. At last, selections made, and purchases paid for, they filled our tires with air, and sent us on our merry way. I have never before been SO thankful for a bicycle. It shortens my commute to clinic from 23 minutes each way to 6-7. Also, I feel so FREE! I have my own transportation! A dog leash and padlock for security, and a bungee cord for securing things to my bike rack (as well as keeping my kickstand up) and I’m all set!

If ever you want to purchase a bicycle in the Philippines, please let me come! It’s a world of fun!