Ivan checked out the flat. There’s a small town close by that we can walk to and see if they can pump up the tire.
I looked at Ivan with lips pursed and raised eyebrows. Okay then, shall we start pushing? I walked to the back of the bike and started to push.
Ivan shook his head. He started the motor and used the revs to move the bike.
We walked at a brisk pace. The locals we passed just stared at us. I don’t know if they noticed we had a flat tire, so I could only imagine what they were thinking. The clouds were getting blacker and closing in.
This is a time I do not want to bump into a lion! I said.
Ivan laughed as we continued puffing up the hill. After about twenty minutes, we started to pass more and more people. We were getting closer to the village. As we turned the corner into the main street Ivan cautioned, Just smile, be nice be friendly, okay?
I wasn’t expecting him to say that. I realised we were getting into a territory where Mzungus aren’t as welcome. I nodded in agreeance.
A bicycle repair shop was one of the first shop huts. On the left side, huts with shelters lined the perimeter of the village. A young woman poked her head through the window and returned my smile. I let out a deep breath. On the opposite was a large store with a few more shops. Locals were sitting along the huts and others doing their daily business. As soon as we entered this territory, everyone stopped and stared. It was a little confronting, but from their perspective it would have been an unusual sight: two Mzungus in the middle of nowhere with a motorbike. All I could do was smile, and show that we were harmless and just needed some help. Ivan spoke to some of the men and was happy to hear they had spare tubes.
The men raised the bike using two large rocks and got to work. It took about an hour to complete the job. It gave me time to look around and observe how people were living. Everything was very basic. Mud huts, iron sheets as roofs, wooden seats. Women walked past carrying bundles of food or water. Children were walking home from school. Every time I smiled at them, they would giggle and shyly smile back. Most people walked past eyeing us but kept to themselves. As the men refitted the chain, the rain hit and there was a downpour. Ivan and I looked at each other, knowing what the other was thinking. What next?
After paying the men and then dealing with someone who wanted money, we rode off in the rain. You know it’s going to be slippery right? Ivan warned.
Yeah, I know. Just ride slowly okay. I don’t get if we get soaked, I yelled through the rain.
As we headed down a hill and hit a corner Ivan cried, The brakes aren’t working!
Oh my god! Just ride slow okay. What have they done to the brakes?
Ivan squeezed the brake handle a few times trying to activate it. The brakes connected suddenly.
Let me paint a picture. Two people riding on a wet, slippery dirt track into the rain. It was windy and cold. We were dressed in shorts and T-shirts. Ivan was wearing sunglasses to protect his eyes from the rain, but it decreased his visibility. I was hunched against him, using his body to protect me from the wind. We hit pot hole after pot hole, bouncing and flying in the air, trying not to slide on the road.
Take off your sunnies! I yelled.
We laughed and called out, Ohs! Jojs! And Ahs! as we continued to slip and slide our way home.
makingsenseoftheonion 