When I arrived in Africa in May 2005, I decided to bring my mountain bike. In fact it was a fairly nice piece of equipment and I thought it would be a nice way to explore during what I thought would be 2-3 years on the continent.
But during my first week in Dar es Salaam, I received a sobering message about what riding here can entail. We heard that one of our guards had taken a machete to the head as someone stole his rather old, Chinese, single-speed bike. We went to visit him in the hospital and, thankfully, he was conscious and we were told that he was going to be okay.
As I left the hospital, my head was spinning, not only about what had happened to him, but the kind of environment I was now in. I had just moved to Tanzania and I was still adjusting to my new reality. I was already getting used to expats sitting around talking about the latest crime that happened to them or someone they knew. This poor guy was riding a relatively cheap bike and got smacked. I could only imagine what someone would do to get mine. I ended up using it sparingly in Dar until I moved to Kibondo (rural NW Tanzania) where I would use it more. I had one or two interesting moments there but overall it was a much nicer place to ride.
riding near one of the refugee camps where we worked |
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In early November I had a bit of a bike accident while sailing past the snarled Monday morning Nairobi traffic. It was nothing sinister but rather a simple clipping of a pedal on a cement divider. My mountain bike flipped and I took a nosedive onto the bike path. It happened rather fast and didn’t involve any pedestrians, motorcycles or cars. Just my own, somewhat uncoordinated, self.
I was wearing a helmet but that did nothing to protect my front paws. As I got to my feet, I knew right away that I had at least broken my right wrist (technically the end of the radius in my forearm) and probably my left thumb as well. My flash self-diagnosis ended up being correct, far from being my first fractures of this kind.
For better or worse, I made the decision to soldier on to the office and call Priya from there. With hands shaking a bit from the freshness of the accident, I gritted my teeth and eventually was able to get my chain back on. As I was doing so, a beggar with bad timing decided to try to hit me up for some change. I don’t know if he saw the accident or noticed my scuffed-up clothing, but it probably wouldn’t have stopped him from taking his chances on a temporarily immobile foreigner. I raised my head briefly from looking down at my chain and greasy fingers and gave him a look I’m not proud of. But it did nonetheless quickly deliver a message that he needed to move on.
Thankfully the bike was mostly unscathed (given that it had conveniently landed on me). I mounted and trudged up the hill, albeit a bit wobbly. It soon dawned on me that hands are quite useful when riding a bike. Not only do they assist in supporting your torso, it’s how you change gears and access your brakes. I momentarily questioned the wisdom of my decision to carry on but after a few minutes, it appeared that I was going to make it the full mile and a half or so to our office building. Once at my desk, I called Priya. She dropped what she was doing and would proceed to spend the next five+ hours with me navigating the emergency/accidents process at the hospital.
Thankfully I haven’t spent much time in the healthcare system here. I hope it stays that way. This particular trip was a mix of surprising efficiencies and surprising inefficiencies. But the entire process took way more time than was necessary, and it even could have been longer had we not pushed a bit. Priya facilitated some things for them and I opted out of getting measured for a sling. Otherwise it would have been even longer.
One thing that was interesting was that the x-ray of my right forearm/hand revealed evidence of half-dozen or so previous breaks from years’ past, including a bone chip floating among the carpal bones in my wrist. My left x-ray was more modest with only three or four previous breaks. Not good memories.
a more sedate ride with family in Nairobi |