With My Own Two Wheels Visit

I awake with a jolt, sitting upright between the comfortable sheets of the hotel bed. Today was the day I finally got to see Miriam. I glanced at my worn out, scratched up wrist watch. It was already nine AM. Miriam would be well into work by now. I jumped out of the warm sheets, slipped into my clothes, grabbed my backpack full of things I needed for the day, such as my camera, some KIND bars(in case I don't like the food she gives me, if she gives me any food), and some other necessary items. I walk out of the main lobby and is greeted by sunshine, laughter, and children. I walk down the dusty road a little, entering a market. I want to get something for Mirriam. I walk through the crowds smelling all the wonderful smells. Salted fish is a main smell, which at first smells really weird and really gross, but I get used to it really fast. I want to get her something unusual, something she might not be able to afford or just never had. As I look at every stand, every food and drink item, I realize Mirriam needs something more than a consumable item. So I go to a stand that is completely deserted, occupied only by the old woman sitting silently on the other side of the table. Before me is an array of the most beautiful beaded necklaces I have ever seen. Although the beads are quite colorful, I can't help but notice the uniqueness of each one. I select a necklace with multiple chunky, colored beads, all strung on a thin piece of string. I pointed at it and the lady told me the price. It was 72 Ghanian cedis, which was around 20 dollars in US money. That was a lot for this necklace, but I bought it anyway.

Now, on my way. I took a small bus to where Mirriam works, all the way listening to the chatter of people all around me. Babies cry, and toddlers scream. It was noisy, but at the same time interesting to hear. The person next to me kept on pocking me and saying something. I just nodded, like I knew what they were talking about. Although people talk in English, she had such a thick accent it was hard to hear her.But people sure were nice here!

The bus pulled up to Ability Bikes Cooperative, a small bike shop on the edge of town. I hopped off the bus and watched it peel away, leaving a faint trail of dirt and debris. I took a deep breath, and clutching the necklace tightly, walked in through the open door.

Surprise greeted me. I thought I would see many fit people fixing bikes silently. I thought Mirriam would be in a wheelchair, struggling to fix a flat, everyone else slaving away. This is what I had always imagined a bike store in Africa to be like. But that wasn't the case at all. Laughter and talking greeted me, inviting me to join in on the fun. Rows and rows of tires, wheels, and rims were hanging from the ceiling, and in front of me were many bikes, waiting to get worked on. I spotted Mirriam right away, for two reasons. One, she was talking and laughing the loudest, and two, she was standing right in front of me, fixing a bike chain. I suspected it was a stiff link, but I wasn't sure. I walked over to her and tapped her on the shoulder. She jumped up, dropping her wrench. Ok, maybe it wasn't a stiff link. I say, "Hello Mirriam, I am Tatym Levine." 

"Oh! Tatym! Welcome! I have been expecting you! You are late!" She threw her head back and started laughing. It was the sweetest purest laugh I had ever heard. I handed her the necklace, and she stopped laughing. Everyone crowded around us, just staring at me. I could hear everyone breathing the words, "Wow." 

"What?" I asked? "What is the big deal about this necklace. I bought it from an old woman this morning." Everyone gasped, then cheered. "This necklace is one of the finest and well known in Ghana. I can't believe you got it. They are so expensive!" Mirriam tells me. 

"Oh no Mirriam, this isn't for me. I bought it for you, as a token of appreciation." I say, pressing the necklace in her hands. 

"Oh my gosh! No! I cannot take it! It is too good of a gift!" Mirriam exclaimed. But I pressed it into her hands anyways. Mirriam carefully placed it around her neck, and quietly said, "I will never take it off. Thank you so much." She resumed working on her bike, every once and a while touching the necklace. I just stood off to the side, watching her work. 

"Would you like to help?" Her voice startled me. I nodded, I knew how to fix bikes, and joined her on her bike. "The back derailleur is broken, can you fix it?" I nodded again, and busied myself on the bike. 

A few gruesome hours later, Mirriam tapped me on the shoulder. She had both crutches in her arms, and looked impatient. "Leave the bike Tatym. Its time to go." I dropped my allen wrench, and looked down at my hands. They were greasy and blistering. I washed them off then grabbed my backpack and followed Mirriam out the door. We walked slowly back to her village(she had no money to take the bus, and she refused to use any of mine), talking and laughing all the way. Mirriam's laugh is the best laugh ever. It made me laugh, which made her laugh, and at one point, we both were laughing so hard, we had to stop walking and sit down on some rocks. She told me all her embarrassing stories from her past, and I told her mine. We talked and talked and talked. 

Soon, we came to a basketball court, where a bunch of people in wheelchairs were playing. Mirriam called out to someone, and they responded with a wave. "That is Kwame." She waved to more people, telling me their names as they waved. Kwasi, Kojo, Abia, Esi, Annan. We walked over to a wheelchair, where Mirriam sat down, pulled on some sneakers, and joined the game. I watched from the sidelines, intrigued. Mirriam must have noticed, because she offered me the chair. I took it surprised, and before I knew it, I was out playing the game! I even made a basket! I gave the chair back to Mirriam, and watched the rest of the game. The sun was setting behind the golden hills, casting an eerie glow on the court. The game ended, and Mirriam walked with me back to her house. We exchanged hugs, and I left, every so often glancing back in her direction. I could see the funny lady waving to me. I boarded the bus back to my hotel, and was silent. I was thinking about the day. I will always remember Mirriam, and I hope I made an impact on her life. The last drop of sun faded over the hills as I stepped off the bus, reminding me that though the sun has set, and the day has ended, Mirriam will never fade away from me. Thank you Mirriam.