October 2020 Student Spotlight: Pabitra T. Rai
Pabitra T. Rai is originally from Nepal. She came to the United States in November 2018 and lives in Rochester, NY. Pabitra is studying at MCC, and her future goal is to be a successful nurse. In this story, Pabitra tells us about a sweet childhood memory of learning to ride a bicycle.
The Bicycle
“Every experience, good or bad, is a priceless collector’s item.” This famous quote by Isaac Imaron brings back my childhood memories of learning to ride a bicycle. I have so many memories connected to this experience, but if I have to describe my childhood in one word, I would say it was just “amazing,” and that’s because of a bicycle.
I grew up in the village that is situated in the countryside of Nepal, surrounded by mountains, rivers, and forests with congested county roads. My father is a mechanic, so we had a blue bicycle at our house that he used to ride all the time. Although he was in his late 40s and was getting older as days passed by, he used to ride me through those country roads on his bicycle every day. As I grew up in the countryside, we had a shortage of transportation besides bicycles or simply walking. My dad used to ride a bicycle every day to drop and pick me up from school which was almost an hour away from my home. Today, when I think about it, as a daughter, I feel immensely lucky, blessed, proud, and honored to have a father who has always been so dedicated towards my future and education.
"Come Pabi, let’s go, I will teach you how to ride a bicycle today." My father called me. I was in 5th grade of secondary school, a 10 year old young lady, when my father first decided to teach me how to ride a bicycle. I still remember it was cold but a cozy winter morning; the sun was shining bright and it was warm. It was foggy, but we could still see each other’s breath rising as neat and pure as vapor. “No papa! I can’t. I am scared,” I refused him. With all my honesty, deep down, I was both nervous and a tiny bit excited. “No, you can do it. Don’t worry. I will teach you,” he responded right away. My legs were shaking like the land shivers during an earthquake, and my heart was dancing in fast track beats. However, I put on my fake smile and dared to face my fear. I couldn’t deny him any further and flee away because of his strict personality.
He rode me on his bicycle to an open space, like a soccer field. From the seat behind him, I could hear him breathing heavily while spinning the pedals and see his tiny lines of wrinkles on his hands and legs.
When we arrived, he lifted me up carefully and sat me on the bicycle seat. “Hold the handle tightly. Look ahead and spin the pedal slowly,” he whispered near my left ear with a soft voice. My tiny hands and legs were soaked with sweat. He added, "Stop spinning the pedals and pull the brakes if you get nervous. I will hold you.” He was behind me, holding the bike.
“Are you sure you will be behind me the whole time?” I asked him with a shaky voice. He replied by shaking his head, “Uh huh.” I was extremely terrified, so I told him to sing to me because I wanted to make sure he was with me while I rode. He could see how nervous and terrified I looked, so he held the bike more tightly and said again, “Trust me and trust yourself. If you believe in yourself, you can cross the ocean.” My fear went down when I heard him say that. I wiped my tiny sweaty hands on my pants and held the bike handles even tighter. I felt like I was ready to fly, touch the moon, and conquer the world. I looked up in his eyes with all my confidence and courage and asked him to start. I slowly spun the pedals and started riding as my father sang “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” with his melodious voice.
I was so focused on the pedaling and balancing the bike, I didn’t even realize when he let me go on my own. “Don’t look back, keep spinning the pedals.” I could hear his voice fading away as I continued to pedal, and then I realized I was riding alone. I froze, and I felt like my nerves stopped functioning and my vision went blank. All I can remember was that I fell to the ground and injured my left knee. I looked up and saw that I also broke the bicycle. I wept with the guilt of breaking his bicycle rather than my injured knee. As I looked down in guilt, I could feel the tears dropping down my cheeks. I couldn’t look straight to my father’s eyes again as I did before I started riding the bicycle. Then, I heard him running breathlessly towards me and asked if I was okay. It was a minor injury, but his bike was broken. He picked me up and said, “Good job my brave girl. You did it! Don’t cry. I will buy you a new one soon.” His unexpected reaction delighted my heart. I stood up swiftly and wiped my tears. It was just a small scratch. However, I could see how worried he was about me.
I hurried home to tell mom all about it. I was trying to control my giggles of joy and success. I was thrilled as if I conquered the world. I didn’t even realize that I left my dad behind as I ran so fast like I had never run before. I wanted to shout so loud and share my success with the world. My mom hugged me tightly and seized me in her warm arms with a cheerful smile saying, “You are my brave girl. My little star! I am so proud of you.” For a moment, I felt like my ears were desperately waiting to hear those words for many years and now I finally did.
As I continued to learn to ride, I overcame my fears and enjoyed riding. Later, my dad got me a new bicycle, and it was red. By then, my dad didn’t have to ride back and forth for my school anymore. When I look back to those memories today, I can still feel the chills down my spine, but I also feel the success. It was a precious moment for me on the day I learned to ride a bicycle for the first time.
ESOL Voices is a collection of stories written by ESOL students at Monroe Community College. This publication highlights our MCC students who come from all over the world. Look for new stories in the Tribune. We hope you enjoy our students’ stories as much as we do.
Katie Leite & Pamela Fornieri, ESOL Program, October 2020