Embarrassingly, I didn't learn to ride a two-wheeler until my tenth birthday.
I then rode my bike for the next few years, but my bike never made it down to college with me, but when I moved to East Asia, biking once again became a major part of my life. We biked most everywhere.
Within a couple days of arriving our team leader took the guys on our team mountain biking on the outskirts of the city. It was about a 40 minute bike ride to get out there.
The group was Eric (who is from Minnesota), Jordan (who is from Wisconsin), Rudy (who is French-Cameroonian), and myself. Not a typical group you see in East Asia.
But, on the way back from the mountains Eric's tire sprung a leak, so he pulled off in a little roadside village.
It was definitely civilized.
People definitely had access to TVs and electricity and newspapers.
And we were within 5 miles of the heart of one of the world's great cities.
But yet, the following experience still happened.
When we pulled off, Eric quickly found the man he needed, "the bike man".
In East Asia, there is almost always a "bike man" within a block or two. This is out of necessity with millions of people on bikes there is a constant need for new inner-tubes, adjustments, and chain repair. So Eric, shelled out about 50 cents and the bike man got to work putting a patch on the tube.
While he worked, he started to make small talk with Eric in the local language. This was a big opportunity as foreigners don't often stray outside of the main ring, so the bike man was clearly excited.
The exact limits on his global awareness were quickly revealed though as his first question for Eric was literally, "So, are you all Korean?"
Eric was so stunned that he didn't even know how to answer besides a delayed, " . . . um, no."
Looking back, there's several levels humor and the more serious, lack of education, effects of a mono-cultural society, and systemic injustice, but for now, let's not dive into that tonight.
I do know that I'm not remotely Korean though.
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