Lady Riders

Pigs might fly, but not hopping on motorbikes with lady riders–never from back home–not even once. And yet riding cars with girls was another story. It wasn’t about sexism at all. I just didn’t see a lot of women rode motorcycles growing up especially in long hours ride.

Aside from my ego in protest, I thought it was always unnerving to have an opposite sex speed or crawl the two-wheeled vehicle. It’s an initial reaction of a guy perhaps. But this was many years ago. Now I don’t really mind.

I had my first in Saigon when a female friend chauffeured me around town and back home–awkward–but not the second until the countless times. I got used to it all those nine years.

When I moved in Cambodia this scenario was not atypical. Although my adopted sons and male friends were my regular riders, my adopted daughters and female co-teachers had me hopped on going to villages and remote places so many instances. It was an inseparable life-experience for seven years. I was fine.   

The same story when I lived in Laos. And for few times, my female Frisbee team mates were so kind enough to give me rides to the field and back to my guesthouse. To explain, I did not own a motorbike there and did not know the way to the arena. Again–it didn’t bother me.

Just a few days ago, I found myself in a seemingly stewing picture with a lady rider–my adopted daughter. She had to pick me up in Phnom Penh and rode through the dangerous streets to get to her village to join the ceremony with the rest of my adopted children who had been waiting for me.

“We’re almost there” I overheard she told her brother on the phone. I thought so, but it was actually just at half the distance–hitting the road was like forever. We survived the night safe and sound anyway. Thank God!

Two days after that special get together, I had to trust another lady rider (another adopted daughter of mine) to bring me back to the city–when grace was needed like never before. Riding with her was the only mean at the moment. And so we woke up early morning and took off with hopes to get away from dangers. It was another day to thank God for.

After all she was a rider.

Above all, I knew God’s grace will follow us through.

For seventeen years, riding motorbikes with lady riders have taught me significant things–gender equality and supporting women’s capability–an experience I would not have had encountered just staying back home. Thankful to these lady riders of my life!