Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Zen and the Art of Bicycle Riding

Riding a bicycle around Siem Reap, Cambodia is a lot easier than it looks. The streets look chaotic, the crosswalks a vague notion (you see them there but they don't mean anything as far as I can see). There are afew stop lights, and the walk/don't walk signs are hysterical as well as instructive (I'll try and upload my video clip at some point). When green, there is a second countdown on top and a figure of a person walking underneath. As the seconds tick down, the figure moves faster and faster until it looks like it might go into cardiac arrest. Then it goes red. Not that anyone pays attention to any of this. But it is informative since stop lights, as far as I can see, are lowly regarded.

The greatest proportion of vehicles seems to be motos and tuk tuks, a large number of bicycles, and of course cars, trucks, and tour buses. And everyone uses their horn generously, but not hostilely. The honking is more informational than a complaint, as it often is in the States (though I realize sometimes it is informational). Motorcycles, tuk tuks, bicycles, autos-- they all can be found driving down the wrong side of the street when necessary. There are not that many stop lights, and I know there must be stop signs, but I only remember seeing a few on my sojourns. How does this city manage without continual accidents?

Here's my theory (and I'm sticking to it for now and also recognize its limitations so it comes with the usual caveats, but no quid pro quos). This is a city, a county, with a large number of Buddhists. I have commented I think in an earlier blog on how open the people generally are given recent and very difficult history. They actually, despite appearances to the naked Western eye (or at least my eye), drive with a lot of care. I know this because my main form of transportation has been by bike. I have rented a bike everyday since I've been here--either the clunker from the guesthouse I'm staying in for 1$/day, or from Grasshopper Adventures (for the two days of tour I went on with them--see other blog). Bicyclists do not wear helmets (though most of the motorcyclists/tuk tuk drivers do). Riding, as in driving in many cities, is a lot about attitude. And while it at first looks like an aggressive-NYC-get-in-there-and-assert-your-place-on-the-road attiotude might be the best strategy, it really isn't. Everyone drives very mindfully; they watch each other, they yield (though not always discernible to an observer, granted!) carefully, they honk to inform. I have only once felt the negligence of a driver asserting himself inappropriately, and I really felt some fear. Otherwise, I have felt virtually no fear in riding around the city, in the countryside, around the temples, even when sharing narrow, bumpy, nearly impassible roads with buses, trucks, motos, etc.; even when vehicles of all kinds are coming at me from the wrong side of the street, or they cross suddenly in front of me to make that left hand turn.

Riding around here has been one of the most enlightening experiences I've had in all of my driving experiences. And not just in that it is an interesting driving experience (though it is that, too). It is, like most experiences (I sound like a broken record, I know!), a life lesson. It has helped me practice paying attention, taking care. I find that I have a bit of a careless streak in me. When I'm riding my bike here, I get to give that up amongst the masses (and it does often feel that way on the city streets!) of drivers, and join in the humanity of a place long plagued by inhumanity.

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