The 2nd Motorbike Accident

Dad wasn't the only one who got hit by a motorcycle.

I mentioned before the big social event that was night market. Every Tuesday, Lizzy, Isaac, and I would faithfully show up.

 I finally managed to find a few shots of what night market looked like when I was growing up.

 Satay on the grill. (Isaac's favorite at night market)

The beginnings of murtabak--my personal favorite dish. It was bits of chicken and cabbage and onions and spices mixed up with egg, fried, then wrapped in a thin sheet of bread dough, and fried again.

It was a 10 minute walk, with only one major street to cross, but any street crossing is dangerous. We were cautious kids, and waited till the light turned red for the cars and green for the pedestrians...only one time, that wasn't enough.

The pedestrian light was green, and all the cars on my side of the road were already stopped. I stepped out into traffic, Isaac and Lizzy right behind me, and safely made it past one lane of traffic when two men on a motorbike darted out from between two lanes of traffic, running smack into me, knocking me flat on my back in the street.

All that seemed to matter at that second was getting up off of the street. I was lying there, wind knocked out of me, with a long line-up of cars and motorcycles stopped and waiting for the light to turn green. I knew that once the light turned green, there was little chance they'd stay stopped long enough for me to get out of the road.

Lizzy was pulling me up off the ground and back toward the side of the road we'd started out on, while Isaac was dashing forward to get my shoe, which had been knocked off and thrown into the street in the collision.

The motorbike that hit me slowed slightly, the man seated in the back turned around to look, and then sped off.

The three of us made it back safely to the side of the road, shaken. One man on a different motorcycle that was waiting at the light called out to me to ask if I was okay. I nodded a "Yes."

See, here, motorcycles don't seem to need a lane to themselves. They weave in between cars and progress through stopped traffic much faster than any car for that reason. I hadn't been able to see the moving motorcycle on the other side of the cars line up in the lane nearest the road, and I'd made the assumption that just because all vehicles I could see had stopped for the light, that all vehicles indeed had stopped. That was a faulty assumption, and one I no longer make.

After taking a few minutes to recover, the three of us made the eminently sensible (in the minds of teenagers) decision to continue on to night market and have dinner with our friends. There was no need to return home and tell Mom and Dad about the little accident right now. I limped to market, as the foot that had the shoe knocked off was beginning to ache.

When we got home from dinner, we did tell Mom and Dad what happened, and they responded like normal parents and wanted to know what we were thinking and why we hadn't come home right away?? Mom took me to the local clinic for them to have a look at my foot, but like I suspected, no major damage had been done, it was just a little bruised, and I left with an ankle wrap, a little pain medicine, and orders to rest up and stay off it for a few days.

Good thing the motorbikes here are so small and light. I think being hit by something like a Harley would be a completely different kind of problem.

{This post is part of my 31 Days Series: 31 Days of Growing Up in Malaysia}