New Wheels

That's right. Guess who got a new, flashy bicycle? Julie! PCJ just got a new shipment of bicycles in for PCVs to use. Unfortunately there aren't enough bicycles for every volunteer, so all who were interested were asked to apply and plead their case as to why they were most deserving. Well, I did, and I got one. You're now probably asking what everyone else in our community asks, “Matt, where's your bike?” Well, my friends, Matt didn't apply for one. I think largely because we really didn't feel right owning two of the few bicycles that were available, and it made more sense for me to have one then him based on our daily travel schedules. It should come as no surprise to anyone that Matt's getting his use out of it. (For those who unaware, Matt's a cyclist at heart. He's done many long-distance bike trips, one of which started in Anchorage, Alaska and ended in Camden, Maine.) I won't burst his bubble, but I told him he needed to write a blog on his little informal bike club. Hopefully my powers of persuasion will continue to prevail, and you'll soon hear more about this.

I can't be too upset about his use of MY bike, because he does make sure to clarify that it's MY bike every time people make reference to it being his. Plus, as always, he does all the mechanical work on it. Oh, and I guess we are married, so we're supposed to do that sharing thing.

Of course having a new, flashy bicycle has its obvious perks. But it also have it's downfalls. First of all, it's a new, flashy bicycle...in a poor community...a community that I'm constantly telling 'nuh money nuh run fuh we poor likkle peace corps'...in a culture that has a significant problem with stealing. As a result we constantly have to make sure the bicycle is in a secured area. We bring it in the house every night, and have it in eye sight everywhere else -even bringing it inside the building if need be.

Second of all, it causes quite the stir when I come riding by on my bike. I mean, people stare already. Still. After 3 months. We know most people by name and have had conversations with lots, but walk down the street and everybody watches, partly because there's nothing better to do. So if you're a white girl, riding by on a new, flashy bicycle, they'll drop whatever they're doing to look with their mouth gaping open as you pass. They might even offer a “Wow girl, yuh fit.” To go with this, I've never seen a Jamaican woman ride a bicycle. It seems to be a rare phenomenon, as in... “Gyal, why yuh wanna go mash up yuh pum-pum like dat?” This of course only adds to the freak show that consists of me and my bike.

This can be a little intimidating. Especially as I ride by one of the shops that sits ¾ of the way up a hill I regularly ride up. I'm already sweating in the heat, breathing heavy as I am determined to not get off the bike and walk it up the hill while my audience looks on. Many times I've ridden past as 5 or 6 guys stand outside, greeting me as I ride on up the hill. Of course, I try my best to act like it's no big deal “Afternoon!”, like I'm not about to pass out any moment “Wa Gwaan!”, I ride up hills in this heat all the time “Yea Mon.”, not strained at all “Alright.”, but praying deeply for the crest to come as quickly as possible “Likkle more.” And of course, I CAN NOT stand up and peddle. That would become the most sought after show in town, watching the white girl's bumpa dance in the air as she pumps up the hill on her bicycle. Jamaican male eyes already have a STRONG draw to check out a woman's rear-end as she walks by. Add a little elevation and bounce, well you're just asking for a fan club. So I just keep on, keeping on, hoping that one day it will be easier for me to get up the hill, or that my cycling skills/backside will cease to be as entertaining. Let's just say I'm not exactly holding out for the latter.