blast from the past
I received a letter from an old friend in Germany yesterday that contained some childhood photos of me. Among them was this picture, taken in the summer of 1991 – twenty years ago – when I was eight years old. It shows me and one of my most prized possessions at the time, my awesome red bike.
We had just immigrated to Germany from Romania the year before and this bike must have been one of the many donated items we received from generous individuals. I don’t remember how I got the bike but I do remember that I loved it. I rode it to the school bus stop in the mornings, I rode it with friends around the neighborhood, and I felt fast, cool, and independent on it. I also loved that it was red and had a rear rack that would hold my backpack with stickers, allowance money, candy, and whatever else I needed with me.
It’s funny to think that for how much I loved that bike, once we immigrated again in 1993 to Canada, I never thought to replace it. Maybe because we moved to a large city and riding my bike by myself would have been deemed too dangerous by my parents. Maybe we didn’t have the money and, this time around, no one donated one to us. Whatever the reason, the 1993 immigration saw the end of my bike riding days for nearly two decades. It wasn’t until late college that I picked up a bike again – Nerp – and gave cycling another shot.
Why is it that we can have so much fun on a bike as a kid but that we don’t really consider cycling or getting around by bike as adults?
So here it is, my love affair with bikes, twenty years ago and today…
Also, please note the awesome outfit (hey, it was the late 80s/early 90s!), the sweet haircut (my father’s handiwork), and the buckteeth. Somehow I’m not surprised that I wasn’t the popular girl in the second grade. ~ S.