Mój kochany Rower (My beloved bike)

Monday morning, I rode my bicycle to work like usual. Parked it. After work took it and began riding home. Just like any other day. On riding a minute or so on a normal road (not a bike track), a lady was about to cross at the zebra crossing. I attempted to brake (as one would) and to my surprise the brake doesn’t work! The bicycle is at some speed. My good fortune that there weren’t little kids or more people. I was instantly afraid and began saying out loud “sorry, no brakes” In that moment, It didn't occur to me to speak polish. The lady might have been very upset and I don’t blame her. 

Somehow I passed the zebra crossing and this bike was just not stopping. I’m no skilled rider. It's a quicker, independent way to get around the city. What's there not to like! Bonus - it's environmentally friendly. I just enjoy riding it. Somewhere within 100-200 meters, it slowed and I was able to stop. 

It was again good fortune that there were no cars down that road that I’d possibly ram into and have to deal with paying for damages and a damaged bike. I was enormously thankful. 

In the moment of panic, I forgot that the bike stops if you pedal backward. 

Anyways, I walked the bike and decided to have it checked out on my street where there are two service shops. 

I stopped by the first and checked the closing time - 18:00. Asked the gentleman kindly in Polish if the shop was closed. To which he replied “yes” in Polish. I asked if he fixes bikes like mine. In slightly incorrect Polish I requested - “Czy Pan poprawi rower który jest klasyczyny hollenderski” to which he replied  - NO. But he was joking (I think)

He asked what happened and I said the brake doesn’t work suddenly and explained to him that it was fine in the morning. 

I began expressing my sadness about the situation by telling him it’s a classic dutch bike and it was really fine in the morning. I suppose feeling pitiful at the situation at hand, he leaned over and touched the front wheel near the center. Not more than 2 seconds.

He said in English - “It works now. Check it” I was stunned at both!! He fixed the bike with a mere slight touch of his hand and spoke English!! He seemed 70-something. Not very common for a 70-ish man to speak much English. He was kind. The brake worked. 

What followed was unique and heavenly. There wasn’t a need to discuss money. It felt like I was walking in my village neighborhood where I’m a native. The man down the street at the bike shop knows me and waves, like a kind familiar uncle in my village. Small fixes are free and that’s the way they live. 

Perhaps he’s seen me cross a hundred times since I usually pass by that path to work whilst I'm usually in a hurry. This time we had an actual encounter. 

This experience left a feeling of being welcomed by your grandparents with warm soup. Those simple few seconds encounter filled my heart with such gratitude. Next time I’d always nod to him as I pass by. Maybe do a full bike check from him. Moments like these are serene and soulful when I feel like I’m not a foreigner in this land. Not the outsider but someone who is from here and is welcome. 

PS: Doesn't every one of us have that moment where you'd like to feel a sense of belonging?