Monday, June 09, 2003
It’s funny how certain events reminds you of the past, specifically your childhood. I spent the weekend at a friend’s house, to unwind and regain some semblance of sanity after the week that was. Surprising thing was that they had just bought a bike each and as one of them was away, I got to use her’s. It was all set, the plan is, come Sunday morning, we’d cycle to the usual breakfast place, have breakfast, and then cycle around the neighbourhood.

I’ve not been on a bike in over 10 years. The stationary bike at the gym doesn’t count, because, well, it’s stationary! I couldn’t believe how wobbly I was initially, my legs were totally uncoordinated and I couldn’t steer properly. But soon, it was unbelievable! I was pedaling fast and furious, with the wind in my hair and a big smile on my face. The sense of ‘freedom’ I felt was unparalleled! It felt like a grand adventure, the great escape from all the stress, angst and frustration I’ve been feeling.

I recall like all good Indonesian girls, we were taught at a very young age the Balinese dance. I was barely five years old when I was sent off to Ibu Setio’s house to learn ‘the moves’. Ibu Setio was a grand Indonesian lady, and her house was full of kids, all her’s. I think she had like 8 kids, of which the majority were boys. Maybe that’s why she was so err…womanly? Anyway, she was ever so patient, particularly with me, as I would often wander off someplace or look out the window, watching the boys at play.

I couldn’t do the eye thing as well as my eldest sister, but then those eyes of hers have always been her most lethal weapon, still is, come to think of it. As I was too little, I couldn’t really participate in all the shows that the dance group used to do, but I would be all dressed up in the colourful and elaborate costume, heavy make-up, headgear and all. My only task at these performances was to walk in with the ‘offering’, curtsy or bow or something and exit as the older girls make their entry. After my short stint, I would sit in the corner mesmerised by the effortless grace of my sisters and the other girls dancing the hypnotic dance.

I don’t know what made me recall those moments while I was cycling that Sunday morning. Perhaps it’s the thought of dance practice every Saturday morning, of Mummy driving us to Ibu Setio’s house, having to endure what seemed like hours of practice, when I could hear the Setio boys having the time of their lives and all I had in my head was, there goes a wonderful day that would be better spent outdoors, CYCLING! Yeah, I guess that was it!

So that Sunday morning saw me cycling and looking at people’s houses and people as they get on with their Sunday morning routine – washing cars, watering the lawn, gardening, kids playing, grandpa reading his Sunday papers and young couples undertaking their DIY projects…. And it ended with me resting underneath the coconut tree in front of my friend’s house, with a great tan – aaahhh….it felt almost felt like a day on the beach! Rest assured I’d get on a bike soon, and meanwhile, time to get my butt on the ‘saddle of life’ (like drama!) again!