Big Adventure - 18

“The Motorcycle Diary”


Balance - it’s what living here is all about. There is an opportunity to find it here, and if you can’t find it then you won’t survive here. Or at least you won’t thrive here.

Physical health, spiritual health, emotional health, intellectual health, mental health – all in balance; work, play, meditation, sleep and, most importantly of all - driving a motorcycle.

Hopping on my hog and hitting the road has become a part of daily life here. Becoming good at it is extremely important. Critical, if we want to avoid critical care.

So as I watch the Thais just about stop at traffic lights without putting a foot down, I realize – balance;
The 70-80 year old woman who is our landlady sits on back sidesaddle and gets driven around – balance;
The guy driving with one hand yesterday, holding a squirming rooster with his other hand – balance;
The guy driving with one hand, holding the tiny child behind him with the other arm, because he already had an even smaller child in front of him – balance.

It’s all pretty funny until you remember that there were 158 serious accidents last month here, with 12 dead. Far and away the leading cause of death in our tropical paradise. Pretty sobering stats.

Speaking of sober, our friends Mike and Yen from Toronto met a guy who was showing them his motorcycle accident scar and preaching the need to wear helmets. Then he mentioned that he was driving drunk when he had his.

I can’t stop thinking about what I was told my first week here, about having an accident on a motorbike: “It’s not if, it’s when and how bad.”

I’ve been cut off twice at speed, kept the bike upright both times with the rear wheel skidding sideways. I don’t think I could do that with Jacquie on board. I’ve been here longer than her, so I’ve acquired more – balance. (The first time a young Thai guy on a motorbike behind me pulled along side and said “He drive bad!” about the truck that pulled out in front of me, then “You do good!” with a thumbs up, to congratulate me on not being dead. Damn I was proud.

A couple of weeks ago I burned my leg on the motorbike’s muffler. It is just now healed out. One week ago it was Jacquie’s turn – not quite as big as mine but hers got infected, so last night we went to the hospital for cleaning, dressing, antiseptic crème, antibiotics, and Tylenol which we gave back and said no thanks – I guess that’s how they make a bit more money. (aside: the nurse showed us the TWO burns she got on her leg from the motorcycle muffler in the same week. I’m pretty sure this is a regular occurrence Also, a nasty little dog ran out at us twice (to and from the hospital) trying it’s best to bite one of us while I tried my best to avoid it while keeping my – balance)

Are these burns our accident, or are we still waiting? We’ve started wearing helmets more often (before it was never) just in case. Not to mention the potential – now real - $9 ticket for not wearing one. Hey, now we can drive drunk!

Jacquie has been advised to keep her leg dry for a while. This does not please her – she is missing swimming already. I have recently added a morning swim with Sam to my routine, making it even worse for her.

I have mentioned getting a real (bigger) motorcycle, but Jacquie already has seen and heard too much, so that’s a no. At least she’s okay with a small one – that’s good. Actually, we are shopping for an automatic shift motorcycle to buy. They are easier to learn to drive – less chance of panic in an emergency – and the seats are a bit lower so Jacquie can get her feet on the ground without falling over (until her balance gets good enough to stop without even putting a foot down). The “firm” motorcycle is in high demand anyway, and if she will be working – or whatever ends up keeping her busy – she needs independent transportation. And she looks really hot in that cute little red helmet.

Wow, what appropriate timing – Ja just drove across the parking lot headed out on her daily ride on the motorbike to take the garbage to the spot where it is collected. Now, you need to know that Ja is in her mid-50s, really overweight (5 ft tall, 200 pounds) and quite de-conditioned. She has dizzy spells and tingling down her arms and in her hands, and has been told she has high blood pressure. The drop for the garbage is at the street, next door to us – same side of the street. It’s about 100 feet of level ground. Each way. I have NEVER seen her walk it. I drove once, but found it quite dangerous stopping the bike to drop the garbage – lots of traffic and it’s on the inside of a curve. I think if I drive again I’m going to park in my driveway and walk the last 30 feet.

It is worth noting that Ja is going home – down in the deep south where all of the unrest and violence is – for a visit, and maybe to stay. There are daily terrorist attacks down there – bombings and shootings of innocent citizens for no reason other than to create terror. Her friends here are all trying to convince her to come back because it is safer here. I’m thinking that the terrorist attacks in the south are the least of her worries.

Well as if by karma, I decided to wait until evening to send this, and thus can close with this new antidote. As Jacquie and I returned from a trip to look for a motorbike to buy – on the firm motorbike - it started to feel rough and make a noise. I stopped and sure enough the rear tire was flat. Where I stopped was eight feet – yes, eight feet – from a garage where a mechanic was sitting seemingly waiting for us. Within 2 minutes the tire was off and the tube examined, evidencing a tear around the valve which could not be patched. Five more minutes and the wheel had been taken off, a new tube provided and installed and the wheel put back on. We are on our way again – total cost about 4 bucks.