Reality Check

Traffic is crazy here - I’ve already mentioned that - and it’s pretty common to see fender benders and bumps every couple kilometers. But yesterday I witnessed an accident that was brutal, and it has continued to flash through my mind. It was hard to watch, and I was completely powerless to help, which is a horrible feeling. I was riding my bike through a pretty nasty intersection where a major street merges with a large roundabout. It’s a mess to navigate, but somehow people typically make it through. I was focusing on the traffic coming from the right when I heard a loud scream and the crashing impact of two vehicles. About twenty yards away I saw the rest of the collision play out: a motorcycle had met with a very large tour bus. The moto had three people on it – a man, a woman, and a baby, and only the man wore a helmet. The woman on the back of the bike got caught in the rear wheel well of the bus as it continued to move forward, and she was lifted off the ground. She flipped with the moto, then both dropped, pieces of the machine flying in every direction. I didn’t even see the baby at first, but the man quickly lifted her from the pavement, cradling her little head in his hands. I ran my bike to the side of the road, threw it in the grass, and headed back toward them. Some other people had gathered around the scene, and the bus driver was with the family, his hand to his head. The rest of the world continued to move around them, pushing toward their destination. I froze at the edge of the road, realizing there was nothing I could do to help the situation. We’re conditioned to stop and help and remain at the scene, but I really had nothing to offer. I could not communicate with anyone – couldn’t call 911, couldn’t ask if they were okay, couldn’t transport them to a hospital. I was also told not to stick around the site of an accident that I’m not involved in because often they will find a way to involve the foreigner to avoid any kind of fine. Of course leaving goes against everything that seems right and “brotherly,” so I just stood there, shell-shocked. It was a sobering moment – everyone in this family could have died. The woman was able to stand up, and the baby was moving, but I’m guessing they didn’t get any medical care. I can’t stop thinking about their current condition. Eventually, I picked up my bicycle and moved on, feeling pretty defenseless on my two thin wheels. It made me more cautious, more aware, and reminded me of my own vulnerability. It also made me aware of my own limitations. I wanted to help them, but had to accept that the world has its own pulse, and it didn’t matter if I stood in the middle of traffic or not.