Archive for April, 2011

Bike Riding

Monday, April 11th, 2011

After days of being confined in the room revising my book, I decided to finally come out. My friends tease me for “hiding in my cave” and coming out only to eat or to use the bathroom. I am finding that the life of a writer has become an almost-lifestyle for me and I am actually enjoying it. In any case, I still have a few more revisions to do before final publication. And so, when the invitation came to go exploring, I jumped on it.

bike path

Just a few meters from where I live are outlying villages that are accessible by biking. We decided to go on a bike ride after brunch. It was the perfect weather for it — a hint of winter coolness with the promise of spring in the air. As we biked the dirt roads, sometimes muddied by rain and construction, I felt like the world opened up leading us towards the towering mountains. The fields on either side of the road were lined with lively verdant rows of vegetables. We could see the farmers hoeing, planting, watering, tending … it was the perfect weather to be out and about!

row of vegetables

There is nothing seeing the richness of the vegetables as we biked past them. It was like vicariously rejoicing with the farmers at the success of the season. I’m amazed at how straight the rows are and how perfectly they are aligned. I just had to take a picture.

biking companions

We biked for a good 2-3 hours in and out of villages, using the main road that connects all of them. There were other bikes, motorcycles, cars, and the occasional truck on the road, but for the most part, it was fairly empty. What I will remember the most is the cool, crisp weather and watching the farmers work their fields. The sight of farm living is something so seemingly idyllic that it still stirs a sense of profound delight in me, especially on a day like this.

in the village

Our bike trip took us through the small alleys in villages. We passed by houses and families, temples and tombs, animals and livestock, people playing cards and tending babies. It is a different world in these villages. I wish I had time and purpose enough to stop and live in it. At one point, we got lost in the winding roads, so we asked for directions. Though the people in this one particular village stared at us, knowing we’re not from those parts, they were very friendly and pointed us to the main road. It was another one of those times when I’m glad that, even as a foreigner, my physical appearance helped me to blend in with the locals.

Revise, revise

Saturday, April 2nd, 2011

Book Revision