The bike ride

I mentioned in an earlier post that I grew up overseas. Here’s another story from my wacky childhood. 

When I was 9 we spent the summer in the hot and humid rainforest of Honduras. It was a remote place named Ahuas. My dad flew a plane for Alas de Socorro through Mission Aviation Fellowship. There was a medical clinic there and he basically served as a flying ambulance, picking up those in need of medical care from their remote villages and bringing them to the clinic. 

Every morning was sunny and beautiful. Every afternoon it would get dark and stormy and the rains would sweep over. Our houses were actually built on stilts because it would rain so much every afternoon. After the rains passed through, it sometimes dried up enough that you could go downstairs but there were scorpions everywhere so we pretty much stayed inside in the evening. 

Every night we would take our malaria pill. I couldn't swallow mine and it wasn't chewable so my mom would crush it and mix it into some butterscotch pudding. It made the pudding taste horrible and to this day I can't stand butterscotch pudding. After we took our pill we would jump into bed and my folks would seal up our mosquito net. Inevitably one mosquito would end up inside the net and eat me alive all night. 

One morning my older brother, Jeff and I decided to go for a bike ride. We knew we would have to make it back before the rains came. We got my mom's hesitant permission, packed a picnic lunch, and headed out. It was a glorious day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Jeff and I were having a grand ole’ time. We crossed a few creeks, passed through forests of banana trees, enjoyed our picnic lunch, and just rode and rode and rode. We were having the time of our lives. 

Eventually we came upon a village. It was a village of indigenous Miskito people (hence the name "mosquito"). As we approached, we were greeted by a gaggle of grinning, cheering children. Jeff screamed at me to pedal harder or the "pygmies" (as he called them) would steal our bikes. I panicked and suddenly couldn't pedal at all. In the blink of an eye I was surrounded by “pygmies.”  I couldn't move. They were grabbing my bike, holding on to the seat and moving it this way and that so that I couldn't stay on. I was terrified! 

Jeff, being the sweet, concerned big brother that he was, took off! Yep, he just left me there. I started crying and screaming for him but he was long gone. I kept trying to get away but the crowd was too thick and the Miskitos way too curious. In looking back, they probably didn't know what to make of me—a tiny, incredibly white child with curly blonde hair on a seat with two wheels. I'm sure I was like nothing they'd ever seen before. Their smiles and constant chattering calmed me down a bit, and I was able to push my way through the crowd and eventually get pedaling again. I'm sure they just wanted to ride my bike, not steal it. But I was on borrowed time and had to make it all the way back home before the rains began. I pedaled as hard as I could as I was chased far down the road, and still no sign of Jeff.

As I rode I realized that it was starting to get cloudy. I pedaled as fast as I could but was getting so tired. I'd used up all my adrenaline on getting away from the Miskitos. Now I still had to get all the way back home. The sky was turning black. Lightning and thunder were still off in the distance, but moving in quickly. About halfway home I finally came across Jeff. He decided he should come back for me. I was still chewing him out for ditching me when the first giant raindrops started to fall. We knew we had to book it back home! We pedaled as though our lives depended on it. By the time we pulled under our stilted house, dropped our bikes, and ran upstairs we were soaked and the water was up to our ankles. 

I remember falling in to my sweet mom's arms, sobbing. I told her all about the “pygmies”, Jeff leaving me, and the pounding rain. I never wanted to go on a bike ride again. I got my butterscotch pudding and went straight to bed, exhausted.

Oh and that was the summer that all my Barbies molded! I didn't like Ahuas very much.