The Bicycle
Although I was issued a motorcycle for getting around, my partner Ana and I thought it would be nice to have a bicycle as well. The hospital is located about 3km outside of the main town and it's an easy half-hour walk, though the sun is brutal and it can seem a lot longer. Using the motorcycle to go into town every time seems unnecessary and seeing as I haven't yet found a place to play futbol, an outlet for exercise isn't a bad idea.
Bicycles are ubiquitous here in Uganda, moreso than any other place I've lived or traveled. Even the smallest children ride adult bikes, many of them sticking their leg through the interior of the frame to bypass the top bar and the seat (see picture below...don't pay attention to the fact that the smaller kid is carrying the larger kid, perhaps he's trying to teach him but I'm not sure).
Older people also use bicycles, mainly to transport millet, water, other agriculture goods and often, other people.
There is a place in the center of Kitgum that is apparently bicycle central. A few shops are packed to the brim with everything bicycle-related and about a dozen people work in a large open air space assembling, fixing and doing who knows what with various parts of bicycles. Ana had gone there earlier in the day to purchase a bicycle and picked out a new single speed for about $80. I thought it was a bit expensive but I wasn't really directly involved in the purchase. In fact, my suggestion was to find people with decent looking bikes, ask if they were willing to sell, and try to get something for under $50. My reasoning was: A) People would be more than willing to sell their used bikes, B) If they were riding them, it must work well, C) New bikes were probably no better than old bikes, who knows where these things are coming from? and D) They would probably know where to get a good deal, at least a better deal than I could find. Needless to say, this strategy was shot down pretty quickly by Ana so I let her do her thing.
After the bike was purchased, it was "tuned up" by one of the several mechanics in the bicycle repair gallery. I imagine this gave the crowd of men ample time to view, discuss and attempt to engage the mysterious bicycle-buying white woman. I can imagine it was quite a scene.
When she arrived back at the hospital I was excited to give the bicycle a test ride. We joked around about riding around with each other like the Ugandans. I thought it would be fun to shock some rural Ugandans and reverse the cultural standard for gender roles. I told her to get on the bike and I would sit on the back. After a few wobbly false starts, much to the delight of the patients and onlookers, we were on our way. Not more than 10m and we suddenly came to a screeching halt sending me to the ground. Both of us were confused as we were on the main (dirt) road and hadn't gone over any major potholes. Naturally there was a massive crowd of onlookers, most certainly enjoying the afternoon entertainment. When we got off we saw that apparently, I was too fat for the bike or the bike's rims had the strength akin to aluminium cans.
I suggested that we go back to the dealer and explain what happened and hopefully we would get a new tire. I was prepared for a huge argument (and also prepared to leave out the detail of multiple riders) but we were quite pleased when we arrived at the bike gallery. First, the sight of two foreigners is enough to draw attention, but the sight of two foreigners, one of which who spent a half hour no more than three hours before, holding a severely mangled wheel, was too much to handle. One very old gentlemen let out the loudest and most genuine "laughing at you" type of laugh and the others joined in. They couldn't believe it. I had to admit, it was pretty hilarious. The bike shop owner first tried to literally smash the rim back into shape, repeatedly slamming the rim against the ground. After about two minutes of this he realized it probably wasn't going to work that way. In the end we were issued a new rim and only had to pay 5,000 Schillings (about $2) for someone to remove the tire and tube and connect the new spokes to the rim. Even though it's fixed, I'm still skeptical riding it...I'll stick to my motorcycle, thank you very much!
UPDATE:
Well, contrary to my statement made yesterday, I rode the bike again today. Within about five minutes the pedal fell off. Not just the pedal, but the entire crank. What's next?
Bicycles are ubiquitous here in Uganda, moreso than any other place I've lived or traveled. Even the smallest children ride adult bikes, many of them sticking their leg through the interior of the frame to bypass the top bar and the seat (see picture below...don't pay attention to the fact that the smaller kid is carrying the larger kid, perhaps he's trying to teach him but I'm not sure).
Older people also use bicycles, mainly to transport millet, water, other agriculture goods and often, other people.
There is a place in the center of Kitgum that is apparently bicycle central. A few shops are packed to the brim with everything bicycle-related and about a dozen people work in a large open air space assembling, fixing and doing who knows what with various parts of bicycles. Ana had gone there earlier in the day to purchase a bicycle and picked out a new single speed for about $80. I thought it was a bit expensive but I wasn't really directly involved in the purchase. In fact, my suggestion was to find people with decent looking bikes, ask if they were willing to sell, and try to get something for under $50. My reasoning was: A) People would be more than willing to sell their used bikes, B) If they were riding them, it must work well, C) New bikes were probably no better than old bikes, who knows where these things are coming from? and D) They would probably know where to get a good deal, at least a better deal than I could find. Needless to say, this strategy was shot down pretty quickly by Ana so I let her do her thing.
After the bike was purchased, it was "tuned up" by one of the several mechanics in the bicycle repair gallery. I imagine this gave the crowd of men ample time to view, discuss and attempt to engage the mysterious bicycle-buying white woman. I can imagine it was quite a scene.
When she arrived back at the hospital I was excited to give the bicycle a test ride. We joked around about riding around with each other like the Ugandans. I thought it would be fun to shock some rural Ugandans and reverse the cultural standard for gender roles. I told her to get on the bike and I would sit on the back. After a few wobbly false starts, much to the delight of the patients and onlookers, we were on our way. Not more than 10m and we suddenly came to a screeching halt sending me to the ground. Both of us were confused as we were on the main (dirt) road and hadn't gone over any major potholes. Naturally there was a massive crowd of onlookers, most certainly enjoying the afternoon entertainment. When we got off we saw that apparently, I was too fat for the bike or the bike's rims had the strength akin to aluminium cans.
UPDATE:
Well, contrary to my statement made yesterday, I rode the bike again today. Within about five minutes the pedal fell off. Not just the pedal, but the entire crank. What's next?
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