My bike adventures

In order to get a little exercise, and to reduce my dependence on Dala dalas, I decided to purchase a bike. Half of the people I know here think it’s a good idea, and the other half thinks I’m totally crazy.

There are two kinds of bike available, “Chinese” bikes and “European” bikes. Chinese bikes are actually imported from China, and cost far less than “European” bikes. I shopped around for a few hours, and realized that every shop was selling identical Chinese bikes, with prices ranging from $85 to $125. A local can probably purchase it for $75. The cheapest used European bike that I had seen was $140.

I set my heart on a brand new Phoenix Chinese bike. The second I sat down, I knew I had made a mistake. The seat did not hold upright, the brakes were completely useless and the gears did not lock in. I biked around for a few minutes and asked myself whether I would commit to going back to Ngaramtoni with the bike, which is about 10km away. The answer was a definite NO! I went back to the shop and explained my concerns. The merchant was quite sympathetic, and refunded me minus $5.

I then returned to another shop to purchase a used European bike I had seen earlier. After a short test-drive, I noticed a small problem with the gears, but overall the bike was in good shape. The salesperson brought the bike to the nearest repair shop, which in reality is a guy sitting under a tree with a toolbox. He rapidly fixed the problem and I set off for Ngaramtoni.

Just as I arrived to Florida round-about, a major intersection, the back wheel flew right off the bike and I crashed, at the great amusement of the many people standing by. After a good laugh, many people came to help me up and check out the problem. The back pin actually bent, so I could not go any further. I returned to the same repair guy, and he replaced the pin. He did not have the correct pin, but worked something out nevertheless. It’s amazing how Africans are resourceful when it comes to doing a job with the wrong tools. By then, the sun was coming down and any white person walking around at night is looking for trouble, and will likely find it. (Arusha is 3 degrees south of the Equator, so the sun sets around 6:30 year-round) He was not done fixing the bike but I was getting a little nervous and decided that I would work the problem out the next day. I stuck the bike in a cab and asked the driver to take me to Ngaramtoni. Once I arrived at my village, there was still a little bit of light, so I decided to ride the bike home. I actually worked quite well, apart from a little gear problem. I locked the bike in our compound and called it a day.

The next evening, coming back from work, I felt like going for a ride so I took my bike out. It is then that I realized that Mr Elias and company had been playing with the gears all day. EVERYTHING is now wrong with my bike. The back brakes don’t work, the gears are all messed up, and the tires are too flat… I will try to get the bike fixed this week, but the repair shops in Nga are not used to working on European bikes, so I am very unsure of the outcome. Worst comes to worst, I will try to sell it back to the merchant minus $5….