Pedal Power: Better than any Gasoline Engine

Blogger's Note: Biking is not only a good exercise but an environmental-friendly at that. Too bad LGU planners think low of providing bicycle lanes around their respective areas.

This story was taken from www.inq7.net
http://news.inq7.net/opinion/index.php?index=2&story_id=42486

Biking by the bay
First posted 02:49am (Mla time) July 06, 2005 By Michael Tan, Inquirer News Service

CLOUDS toned down the sunset last Saturday at Manila Bay, but even if it had been in its full splendor, I would have been too exhausted to appreciate it. I had spent an afternoon with nearly-one-year-old Yna, who insisted on doing archaeology, digging up grass and pebbles and shells ... and tasting the artifacts.

Jepoy eventually arrived to rescue me. As I handed Yna to him, I told him I was wiped out, hoping to gain some sympathy, and a quick trip home. Instead, he suggested we go biking.

Cultural biking
I told him he was crazy, but Jepoy insisted, arguing that he wanted to take me on another one of those tours of his world. He loves the Baywalk and other places I go to, but sometimes describes them as "burgis" [bourgeois] He's right about the Baywalk: an afternoon out with the family can cost a few hundred pesos even for light snacks.

But Jepoy doesn't mean bourgeois in terms of expenses alone; instead, he says it to mean that while burgis areas are fun, the more "masa" [for the masses] places are even more enjoyable.
And many times, he's proven himself right, from walks through "Little Baguio" (an area in Quezon City with a large community from the Cordilleras) to the explorations of Quiapo's alleyways (and I don't mean the DVD places alone).

Jepoy was, of course, right about our coming from different worlds. I would go to the Cultural Center for concerts, plays and exhibits but Jepoy has never been into the Cultural Center building, and isn't too keen about going. Culture with a big C isn't his bag; for him, and I suspect for many Filipinos, the Cultural Center is a place for leisurely promenades ... and biking, with relatives, even the whole clan. Once when Jepoy told me he'd brought his grandmother as well, I was incredulous, but he insisted the biking place was for all ages.

No lone riders
As usual, Jepoy got his way despite my protests: "Look, Yna's really sleepy." But as we approached the bike park, she perked up almost as if she had gotten a quick recharge from the noise levels that were building up. And as we got out of the car, she became even more animated. Yna loves people and here they were, lots of them, young and old.

There were the usual food vendors offering everything from "pusit" [squid] to "balut" [boiled duck's embryo] (to strengthen the knees for biking, I presume). The food stalls were clean; even the cat sleeping away in one of the kiosks seemed to have taken a bath.

And there was the biking, but I quickly realized it was a different kind of biking than you'd see in the West. The bikes here were all for rent. There were small bicycles for children, some with trainer wheels to help the novices. There were also slightly larger bikes, which in the West are really intended for pre-teens but which we call adult bikes here.

But what struck me immediately was that there were few lone bikers. In the same way a Filipino does not dine or drink or sleep alone, I realized biking is a social activity in the Philippines, something you do with hordes of friends and relatives.

It probably makes sense. First, one has to learn to bike, and that's a social activity, except that Filipino-style, you don't have one teacher. You can see that at the Cultural Center, with kids at different stages of learning to bike. Some had an older relative pushing the bike from behind with the rest of the clan assuring the child all would be fine. Others had become more confident, biking around gingerly while the relatives cheered them on. Finally, you had the ones who had mastered the bicycle, speeding along and threatening to crash into the food stalls while the mother or grandmother would holler, "'Ingat, ingat' [Careful, careful]!"

Social biking
Besides the "practice biking," there was a lot of what I'd call social biking. People would rent a bike and then take turns using it. Sometimes, you'd see a bike taking a driver plus one or two passengers (I'm amazed at how our small Pinoy bikes can take so many people but then in parts of Mindanao, you have Skylabs: motorcycles that transport four passengers at a time).

For the most part though, social biking at the Cultural Center is best done on sidecars and go-karts, modified bikes with an attached seat for several passengers. These bikes offer all kinds of possible social interactions, usually a younger person biking, with several family members as passengers. There's a sense of importance here as a young boy or girl becomes the family driver, almost as if to say, "Hey you taught me to bike; now I'm going to drive you around." It's on these sidecars and go-karts that a child displays "kuya" [elder brother] or "ate" [elder sister] prowess, assuring the younger passengers, "I'm taking you places."

Other kids have older relatives as passengers ... and now, I could believe Jepoy seeing a kid, who couldn't have been more than 10 years old, asking her passenger, sitting regally in the sidecar: "Saan tayo, Lola [Where to, grandmother]?"

Strangely, but not surprisingly, there were more adult women -- mothers, aunts and grandmothers -- than men. The women weren't there to be biked around; they were also the ones teaching the young ones to bike. I've asked the question before, and I'm asking it again: Where have all the fathers gone?

Bike therapy
"You can forget your problems here," Jepoy explained. I could see why: There's something about biking that, pardon the cliché, uplifts the spirit, whether you're the actual biker, or a spectator. Even Yna seemed totally mesmerized just watching.

I wondered what was running in her head and whispered, "It won't be long before you go biking, too." Then I remembered my own childhood experiences with biking: the awkwardness and uncertainty that accompanied the first attempts to bike, the growing confidence as I learned to balance myself, and the feeling of exhilaration and accomplishment once I could bike on my own. The riding experience itself varied, depending on whether you're riding against, or with the wind, whether you're on level ground or going down or up a hill.

I thought it would be great if the Cultural Center could provide some variations on the terrain so people can bike "uphill" or "downhill" but then again, it's the social biking that seems to appeal most to the families that gather here, a time to unwind, to set aside problems.

Biking as therapy? Why not? But there are probably limits. As I went around asking about the rental rates, I realized this wasn't quite a "for-the-masses" activity. The cheapest kiddie bikes cost P20 an hour while the go-karts and sidecars went for P50.

Jepoy feigned shock when told about the rate for the go-kart, protesting in Tagalog: "It was P30 before. Have you been affected by expanded VAT?"

She laughed and said no, there was no value-added tax (VAT) on rentals and offered us a bike for P40. But the reference to VAT seemed to have touched a raw nerve, the vendor saying, "Grabe ang VAT na 'yan [That VAT is too much]."

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