The Big Fall and its Aftermath

I remember the first time I rode a bike without its training wheels. I was 10 years old, and the bike belonged to a friend of mine. He was also three years older and several inches taller. I really wanted to learn, and he offered to teach me.

At first, I was apprehensive. The bike was higher than me, and I couldn’t plant my feet flat on the ground while seated. To make matters worse, it didn’t have any brakes. And never mind the helmet. There’s no such thing in a third world country.

I think it’s essential to note that in the Philippines, people learn how to ride the bike right in the middle of the streets. To make it more interesting, all sorts of vehicles – from mere pedicabs to massive Peterbuilt cement mixers – zoom by at reckless speeds.

To put order in a seemingly chaotic traffic condition, a simple, informal rule is enforced: If the oncoming object is bigger than you, then you just have to move the hell out of the way.

“Pare, basta tumingin ka lang sa harap at sa malayo," (translation: Dude, just look farther straight ahead) my friend told me while holding the base of my seat to give me better control and balance. I took a deep breath and held the handlebars firmly. I started to pedal. Then, I started to roll. Before long, the rolling turned into coasting.

I started to pedal like a maniac.

“Sige lang, sige lang,” (translation: Just keep going) I heard my friend yell. He was no longer holding my seat but standing way back instead.

For a moment, I was having the most exciting, liberating feeling. I felt so free. No more training wheels!

And the burst of wind against my face was invigorating. The feeling was something I could never have imagined.

Yeah. I was the king of the world.

I was having an out-of-this-universe sensation, but that changed abruptly when I saw an oncoming truck coming straight at me at a very high rate of speed.

Uh, oh.

My exhilaration quickly turned into a feeling of alarm and distress. After all, I was just learning how to ride. And just how was a boy like me supposed to stop a bike that didn’t have any brakes to begin with?

I panicked. As I turned my head to see where I could go to get out of the truck’s way, my bike started to wobble and swerve.

Bam! The front wheel hit the curb.

I remember the back-end of the bike going up and launching my small body over the handlebars and into the concrete. Then, it was over. The truck passed by me at a very safe distance moments after that.

I remember getting up and looking at my wounds on my arms, knees, and elbows. It was a painful spill. My friend thought it was funny and he couldn't stop laughing.

For a while, I debated whether I should give it a rest and try again some other time.

However, after inspecting myself and the bike and determined that everything was fine, I started to laugh with him. I also hopped on it and rode again.

That particular day, I learned how to ride a bike.

But the real learning didn’t come until several years later.

You see, life is not so much about falling, but getting up after.

And that's also one thing I know about pinoys. We forge ahead.