I told me so
When it was Katty’s last evening in Kirulapone before going back home to Croatia, we stayed up having a chat though nearly everyone else had hit the sack already. We discussed about how hard it will be to re-integrate and all the things she will miss. Back here she had arranged pretty much all practicalities when it comes to work and handling all the other nitty-gritties before leaving. There was one thing, though, that was consuming her mind: She had not found a buyer for her Gizmo (a local moped brand). For a while I had secretly hoped that she would ask me to buy it, because it seemed such and easy means to get around in the traffic wilderness of Colombo. I hesitated to suggest a possible purchase however because I know how troublesome it can be to own something, not least something involving technology.
Let’s rewind a bit… There was a time that I used to drive my own car (-89 Suzuki Swift). I liked the car since it allowed freedom and independence to some extent. Nonetheless, there was always something to be fixed and it caused me a lot of grey hair. Even my wallet didn’t like it. So, one fine summer Sunday as we sat next to a bonfire and relaxed on the beach with some friends I realized how much less complicated life would be if I didn’t have the car. In the meantime I had heard my friend talking about buying a car but not having money so I decided to do both of us a favor. I asked if he would like to buy some gasoline from me for 30 Euros. He was perplexed. I explained he would get the container for free. He still didn’t get it. I reached to my pocket and took out the Suzuki key. Next day he was a proud owner of that piece of crap. But hey, it was only 30 E.
So with this experience pounding still at the back of my head I wasn’t that ready to just go and buy some more worries for myself. As a matter of fact it was a bit against my “simple life” credo that I’ve followed for the past few years (i.e. got rid of nearly all my earthly belongings). However since it was again a similar situation where I would help out a friend to get rid of her troubles and possibly gain something myself in the deal I agreed to get the damn thing of her hands. She was happy.
Then Katty left and there I was staring at the half-malfunctioning means of transport. I was happy too. Some time passed as Gizmo was taken to be serviced. When it came back the only thing missing was some small piece from the silencer. I think I referred to this already in some previous posting. Anyways, I was dumb enough to take it for a ride and the whole silencer dropped somewhere on the street. So, after some more investments I was set to go. I quickly realized that it is the quickest and cheapest (excluding public bus) means of transport in the city. I loved it.
After just a few days of cruising around I hit a curb trying to avoid getting hit by a bus and the left pedal eventually fell of. Now, I might have mentioned how Sri Lankans tend to find quick-fixes instead of long-term solutions. In that sense (also) I’ve become quite Sri Lankan. I took some super glue and tried to glue the pedal back on. Of course it didn’t last for too long so I just pocketed the pedal and tried to start it up by using only the right-side pedal. After some sweating it worked. Sometimes, though, I have to install the other pedal temporarily and remove it after it starts. For a few weeks now I’ve been carrying the loose pedal in my pocket or back pack just in case I need it (sometimes I do).
Ok, fine, good enough for me. But then another blunder occurred. One day I was leaving from the office and the rear tire didn’t have any air. I drove the Gizmo to the nearest place where they sell (nope, it’s not free here) air and filled the tire. Since it didn’t seem to deflate I didn’t bother getting the tire patched or replaced. That was about a week ago.
This morning the same thing happened again. No air! Duh! So, I pushed the bike to a tire shop and asked them to patch it finally. I had some errands to run anyways so I could easily wait for half an hour and change the 300 rupees they were asking for her. So, after about 50 minutes (Sri Lankan half an hour) and 350 rupees later I got my baby back and started off for work (being terribly late already). After about 500 meters I heard a loud scratching noise and the rear tire locked. I stopped just to see that the chain had fallen off. Of course I didn’t have more tools than a plain screwdriver with me so I fought with it for a good 30 minutes and headed back towards the tire shop. No matter how carefully I tried to drive the chain fell off again. I went through a few moments of desperation, thought of leaving it there, and just running back home to sleep (‘cos by now I was about 300 meters from our house… good progress, no?).
I reminded myself of patience being a virtue, took the screwdriver, put the chain back on and continued for another 40 meters. Again! Had enough, took the bike and shoved it into a tuk-tuk, got myself squeezed between the trishaw seat and the bike, told the machang (dude) to drive back to the tire shop, landed there, hissed something at the fellow who couldn’t understand why I’m bringing the bike back in a friggin’ three-wheeler and, after some time of trying to calm down, explained the situation to him. The tuk-tuk driver was getting raring to go and demanded to have his money. I asked the tire shop people to pay the poor fellow but they refused saying it’s none of their problem. I articulated the facts in a very Tomi-like non-sophisticated way and managed to piss off the owner of the shop. End result? They paid him and as of now they are re-fixing the bike for free. I just hope they don’t fix a Gizmo-bomb to it and that I get it back still today.
The learning point? Who knows…
posted by Tomi Astikainen @ Monday, August 06, 2007
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