Crash Into Me (Again)

I’ve been riding my motorcycle for a couple years now and have felt utterly comfortable and confident about it. One thing I particularly like about riding my motorcycle is how I am able to focus like an air traffic controller. Having an annoying case of ADD all my life, it’s nice to be able to focus so completely on something and feel alert and not sleepy as a result.

It was Saturday and time for French class. The French embassy is quite a distance from my house and I decided to ride the motorcycle the whole way to save some time. The great thing about riding a motorcycle here is that it can cut travel time in a half, and often even more so. I was about halfway there and making a right turn at a major intersection. There was a taxi on my left, who suddenly decided he had to be in my lane RIGHT NOW! Sometimes you see this in Bangkok – a car makes a sudden and violent turn into another lane – pushing their way through a small spot that opens up. I GUESS he did not see me. I don’t know. He sure felt me, for he hit me like a…well, I’d like to say a mack truck, but it was really “just” a taxi.

I felt the taxi slam into the side of my body and felt my body bounce a few times against the taxi. It’s amazing how you can recall minute details and at the same time, things all seem hazy. It’s also amazing on how a pasty, soft human being like myself can have all “natural” instincts for survival kick in less than a single second. Soon, I was on the asphalt, my bike revolving on top of me, and I quickly extracted myself from it. And yet, at the same time, I quickly looked up, just in time to watch that fucking asshole of a taxi sail off into the sunset, without a care in the world. At that moment, I think my heart sank to my now-scuffed shoes. It’s one thing to be hit, it’s another thing to watch the thug race away in a cloud of disgrace. I laid there for a moment in disbelief, and then looked around to see if anyone was coming to help me.

No. No one.

I slowly limped and led the now, slightly-bent bike to the side of the road. Traffic, relieved to see me clearing the road finally, resumed. I sat there on the defunct motorcycle for a moment taking it all in. I had just experienced a hit and run. No one stopped (unless I was blocking the road). No one helped me. And the taxi drive was probably halfway to China by now. I looked at what appeared to be my only immediate injury – a bloody and banged up elbow. As time wore on, I would be happy and unhappy to find my only other injuries were minor – cuts and scrapes on my arms and legs. Good thing I was wearing my giant helmet.

I have to tell you, being the ‘victim’ of a hit-and-run is rather heartbreaking. That may be a dramatic term, but it was how I felt. The first time I was hit, it was very different, with several people offering to help and being kind. Now, I felt as if I was simply a temporary and annoying road block for the Bangkokians.

Luckily, a police hut (small little huts that sit at major intersections to do traffic duty and such). I slowly made my way over to him on the other side of the road. He was polite, but completely unsympathetic. He informed me that I was “unhurt” (Ha!) and that the taxi driver was long gone, so there wasn’t anything he could do. Obviously, he was going to do nothing.

I called my Thai friend (roommate) and told her what happened. I have noticed that no matter how calm you may feel, once you begin telling someone you care about it, all your emotions flood out. Yup, that’s right, I was crying like Jimmy Swaggert (he would’ve loved Bangkok!). Now, Thais are polite and kind, but they’re not always known for their compassion (like when I was told on September 11th to “shake it off”). My roomie was laughing at my crying, though she did let me know she would be on her way immediately. I spent the next hour sitting in the tiny, though thankfully air-conditioned, cubicle with the cop. At least my roomie would come and play translator (my Thai only gets me so far), and sort of take care of me. I didn’t want to do jackshit but maybe have a bit to eat and sleep.

My roommate arrived – with a friend! Although I knew and liked the friend, I have to tell you, the last thing I wanted at that moment was to socialize. (I’m not great at it even in the best of health). I spent the next couple of hours treating them to some “strange” (to them) food at Outback Steakhouse.

Oh well.