Afribike

I’m looking through images from my last trip, as I prep to head out to Africa again in the next few weeks.

While my friend David was in Botswana last year, he began taking pictures of the everyday cyclists he met while riding around Gabarone, and asking them a few questions. I’m pleased he’s sharing the images with Bikejuju, and I’ll be doling them out in the coming weeks.

Kelly Kontsenyane:

I ride for 30 minutes to get here to work. I ride my bicycle for exercise. It is not dangerous to ride here because I go away from the road. I get fresh after riding, not tired. I get strong. I have the power, so I do not get weary or tiredness. I feel energetical after riding. Even if I am in work, I can still patrol. On Sunday in the morning when I don’t work, I will ride on my Humber to the border of South Africa with my little brother for exercise. I have used my bike for a life time. I paid 400 pula for it.

Welcome to 2010, which rises like this blue Phoenix, emerging ripe with possibility from the ashes of 2009.

More than a billion people worldwide live on less than one US dollar a day, and many of them lack adequate access to transport. In rural areas, markets, schools, and health care facilities can be widely dispersed, and public transportation is often erratic, crowded, and expensive. Walking is the only reliable transportation available to many hundreds of millions of people.

There is a simple solution that can put schools and clinics within reach, increase the loads that can be carried to market, allow the small vendor to reach more potential customers, or radically increase the number of patients a rural health care worker can reach in a day: the bicycle.

In addition, providing a few simple tools, teaching bicycle repair skills, and helping start a shop with an initial small stock of used bicycles can create an entrepreneurial opportunity that lifts a family out of poverty, or provides a steady stream of income for a small local nonprofit.

Creating economic opportunities for women as mechanics - how cool is that? (Photo: BEN Nambia)

In this season of giving, I have been thinking a lot about the transformative power of bicycles. Although there are lots of amazing bicycle nonprofits and cooperatives in America, it will come as no surprise to Bikejuju readers that I am particularly interested in the role of bicycles as a vehicle for change in Africa, where I spend a couple of months each year.

Bicycle ambulance designed by BEN Namibia.

Over the last six months I’ve been assembling a list of projects in Africa and Latin America that harness the transformative power of bicycles in myriad ways, and now I’d like to ask you to consider supporting them.

It’s that time of year. Please support one of these projects with a generous donation. How about a hundred bucks?

Getting Rwandan coffee to market.

• Bamboo Bike Project
• Bicycle Empowerment Network Namibia
• Bicycle Empowerment Network South Africa
• Bicycles for Humanity
• Bikes for the World
• Bikes Not Bombs International Projects
• Bikes to Rwanda
• Bikes Without Borders
• FABIO Uganda
• Kaloko Trust
• Mayapedal
• Mikes Bikes Africa Projects
• Project Rwanda
• Re-Cycle
• Village Bicycle Project
• Wheels for Life
• World Bicycle Relief
• Worldbike

In 2010 I’ll be turning Bikejuju more in this direction, blogging a lot more about these initiatives, including visiting a few in person. If you have experience working with any of these organizations, or are aware of other projects in Africa, Asia, or Latin America that should be added to the list, please post a comment or get in touch.

PS: only seven days left in the Dark Days photo contest, with prizes from Planet Bike and Bikeglow. Contest ends 12/20. At dusk.

More from Axum to come, stay tuned.

My colleagues, a Seattle family, recently had an opportunity to move to Botswana for three months with three sons, and committed to living their time there car-free. David, the father, was kind enough to share a little of their experience cycling Gaborone, the capitol of Botswana.

I was hoping to find bicycles and ride with the kids in Botswana even before we left Seattle back in September. Cycling is a great way to see and discover a new place, allowing you to move quickly and efficiently, but slowly enough to perceive the details and textures that are blurred in a car and to easily interact with people that you meet on the street. Also, given the short length of our stay, buying a car did not make financial sense.

I should clarify that I intended to cycle around the city of Gaborone, where we would be living, not around the country of Botswana. Though I might have tried touring when I was younger and dumber, the Lonely Planet guide to Botswana warns:

“Botswana is largely flat – and that’s about the only concession it makes to cyclists. Unless you’re an experienced cyclist and equipped for the extreme conditions, abandon any ideas you have about a Botswana bicycle adventure. Distances are great and horizons are vast; the climate and landscapes are hot and dry; and, even along major routes, water is scarce and villages are widely spaced. What’s more, the sun is intense and prolonged exposure to the burning ultraviolet rays is hazardous. Also bear in mind that bicycles are not permitted in Botswana’s national parks and reserves; and cyclists may encounter potentially dangerous wildlife while traveling along any highway or road.”

Not exactly an endorsement of touring by bicycle in Botswana. And they don’t even mention the sand. We did see a couple of bikers loaded up with panniers resting under a tree on one of our road trips, but I did not envy them, as the temperature was approaching 90 degrees.  Even from a distance, they clearly looked baked and spent.

Before arriving in Gaborone, I assumed that biking around the city would be fairly risky. I expected high traffic speeds and volumes and unpredictable drivers who were ignorant and unconcerned about bicycles. I also assumed that formal bicycle facilities (e.g. bike lanes, paths, or signed routes) would be non-existent, which is generally true. However, after getting to know the circulation network and aligning my cognitive and spatial expectations with those of drivers, I find that it feels rather safe to bicycle in Gaborone. Whether it actually is as safe as a city like Seattle or Portland would be difficult to determine, as the crash data are probably non-existent or recorded in a way that makes comparison impossible. Most bicycle crashes in the US do not involve a vehicle and go unrecorded anyway, which is probably the case here as well. Regardless of the continent, I have always believed that the greatest danger of cycling together in a group with kids is each other, and indeed our only minor mishaps have been self-induced; somebody stops too quickly and gets plowed into from behind!

The circulation network comprises a variety of facilities in Gaborone. While there are only a few streets with painted and signed bike lanes, most of the major through streets have wide rights of way with plenty of space beyond the shoulder to ride safely.

An arterial street in Gabarone with a dirt fringe beside it.

This typically dirt fringe is particularly good for children when traffic is moving fast, although includes hazards such as drainage channels, termite mounds, broken glass and thorns, extremely sharp plants, driveways, transit shelters and makeshift street vendor stalls. Mountain bikes with big knobby tires are a must.

My son navigates a dirt sidewalk with storm drains.

A newer street with a bike/pedestrian path.

Having been planned and started around the time of Botswana’s independence only 43 years ago, Gaborone is a very young city with a suburban development pattern and street network that reflects the naive planning principles of that era. The major arterials are widely spaced and must accommodate all of the city’s through traffic because most of the local neighborhood streets end in cul de sacs. This virtually eliminates vehicular traffic on streets in the residential neighborhoods, but makes the busy arterials uncomfortable places to walk and bike. Crossing the arterials is difficult and their big intersections pose a significant risk. In particular, many of the intersections have generous roundabouts, which keep traffic moving but are more difficult to navigate on bicycle or foot than signalized intersections. The upside for walking and biking is that most of the dead-end neighborhood streets and cul de sacs have paths that connect to other streets, unlike most middle-aged suburbs in the US. At least the planners got that detail right!

Path between dead-end neighborhoods streets.

The best element of the circulation system is a network of greenways that is interwoven throughout most of the neighborhoods. The greenways are terrific for cycling, though tend not to be continuous or lead to important destinations.  The greenways are also impractical at night, since they are dark and have poor surveillance (most adjacent residences have high walls topped by electric fences). Finding your way through the labyrinth of street-end paths and the greenways takes time, but is fun.

When our youngest son Willie is not with his nanny, Monica, he is often surveying the city from his child seat on the back of my bike. He typically rides with me to drop Elliot and Mitchell off at school. We then head home to meet Monica, often trying new and longer routes.

Contrary to my initial safety concerns, I have found that most drivers in Gabs are actually quite competent, maintaining their lane position and often courteously yielding to us at smaller intersections. Having two other kids on bikes in formation and a small child on the back probably helps, but I am also generally treated well when I am on my own. There are certainly the handful of crackpots that blast through stop signs and demonstrate general disregard for any human life beyond their own, but these outliers exist in Seattle as well. Ironically, one of the greatest dangers is that many drivers are so amused and agape at Willie perched behind me in his little seat that they don’t watch where they are going!  Most have never seen such a set up. People in passing vehicles will often point and wave while laughing with joy at the sight of us, as if we are a circus act that inadvertently rode out of the bigtop. Willie also shouts out “Dumela Rra/Mma!” (Hello sir/maam) as we pedal past pedestrians, which always elicits grins.

Having a young child with you is a great ice-breaker when you are trying to be a culturally sensitive and unobtrusive outsider yet are eager to interact with people. Having that child blabbering away behind you in a little seat mounted on your bike – a real novelty here – opens huge doors.

Willie and I had been talking about getting a marimba during a long ride to a shopping mall and just as we were approaching our apartment, we passed a Zimbabwean man selling them on the street. Biking around Gabarone facilitates such seemingly random encounters. Pasteur once said, “Chance favors the prepared mind.” I think chance also favors the cyclist.

Marimba seller.

Biking around Gaborone with Elliot, Mitchell and Willie has given them more direct exposure to the culture, climate, and landscape. I also believe that the cultural exchange goes both ways, at first startling and amusing people that see us, but then, hopefully, making people pause and think, “Why are they riding bicycles through the city and not driving in a car like most ex-patriots we see?” I think the older boys have some sense that they are influencing the perceptions of others here and perhaps nudging the transportation status quo, if only infinitesimally. Hopefully, the feeling of riding along the quiet greenways or adjacent to the busy streets on sandy tracks will be an enduring memory of their time in Botswana.

Cycling past a termite mound.

Dateline Axum, Ethiopia: Sidewalk mechanic Brhane is a heck of a nice guy. Not only does he have a warm smile, and a willingness to let a strange foreigner photograph him with a camera worth more than he makes in a year, despite only having a few words in common, but he is also probably the track stand champion of Axum.

This weekend I was wandering around the neighborhood where I am staying in Addis Ababa (Bole Medhane Alem neighborhood) and just around the corner from my hotel I came across a guy renting about half a dozen really broken down old bikes, for ten cents (1 Birr) per five minutes. How could I resist? I picked up the tab for his friend Mamo and I to take a ten minute ride down the road and back.

Gondar, Ethiopia: wandering around the town, Flip video camera in hand, in search of bikey stuff. Found some, rode some, filmed some! Video to follow when there’s bandwidth to be found, for now just a few little glimpses:

I’m in Ethiopia for work for a couple of weeks. Wandering around Addis Ababa this afternoon, I came across a store with this row of stunningly crappy Chinese children’s bikes and decided to investigate them a little more closely.

This “Hery Poter” model is a particularly remarkable example of how low bike quality can go. It’s a crazy overwhelming, hideous Frankenstein mish-mash of crap “features” designed to signal “quality” and convince extremely unsophisticated consumers that the bike is worth the $30 or $40 it might cost (prices are rarely fixed here…).

Have you ever seen a children’s beginner bike that features both training wheels and mountain bike-style bar ends? And as if that’s not enough crap on the handlebars, you also get a bell, a water bottle, and a mirror positioned for looking at your own chest!

The Hery Poter chain guard (with Santa!) would be helpful in keeping grease off your pant leg if the chain came with any lubricant on it at all. But it doesn’t. None of the bikes in this shop seemed to have more than the very lightest hint of lubrication. Just enough to keep everything from rusting until you get it home and your child rides it through its first puddle in order to test those awesome fenders (and “shocks”).

The extra seat on the back is a classy addition – when your child wobbles out into African traffic on their training wheels, they’ll have space for little sister to hang on behind them. Don’t forget to use your bell, honey!

Of course there is another Chinese bike option for dealing with Africa’s legendary traffic: go for the model with integrated handlebar-mounted laser ray guns!

I could not get these ray guns to fire laser beams at all. What crap.

And for the baby in the family what else will do but a Rambo Lovely Baby tricycle?!

All this would be funnier if it weren’t such a classic example of the quality of all the consumer goods here in Ethiopia, from housewares to tools. Most of these goods are imported from China and sold in small “general merchandise” shops, and they are typically of lower quality than we would find in an American 99-cent store. People here have to work harder, for longer, to buy this crap, and they take it home and it breaks immediately. Except for the crappy stuff that can be kept running forever, like the early 80’s-vintage Russian Lada cars that still ply the streets of Addis by the hundreds (thousands?) as taxis, spewing blue diesel exhaust.