Just when I thought I finally settled well in DC and had my life together, lovely friends, almost good food (fruits and vegetables are still trying to impress me, but they fail every time) and Mongia (the bike), respected in my host organization, calling family everyday. I was fooling myself it was a perfect life, or at least ‘’La Belle Vie de Washington’’ until Mongia was kidnapped (bike stolen). It was bad, still is, but now that I am over it, I can talk about it.
My life without a bike is like fish without water… maybe.
It was a clear night, on halloween, Oct 31st, and everybody was spooky and happy. My neighborhood was flooded by little monsters and their pets on their Trick-OR-Treating spree. It was a monday, and I was invited for a halloween dinner.
It was very normal, I went home to bring a bag, and was on a hurry, so I left the bike in front of the door for around 20minutes.
I’ve got my bag, I went out and Mongia was NOT THERE !!! OH MY GOD !
Of course ‘’my tears would dry fast and I stand high after I fall.’’ , but it was unexpected, very unexpected and made me sad. She was a good bike, not only good, she was a marvelously great bike ! Black steel frame, red handlebars, vintage brakes and gear shifters.
This is the first time something was stolen from me while in the USA, it turns out, it’s not safer than Tunis, or Tangiers or Belgrade. Do not believe any person telling you that the USA is a safe place to live, there are many drug addicts and many homeless people. It’s not a very good system to live in. Too stressful and too risky.
Grieving for my Mongia, here’s how I passed through the five stages of grief:
I was not accepting that and thought I was in a dream and kept checking my front porch and the neighborhood several times. And every time I would brush my eyes as I still didn’t believe it.
Then I was very angry and started imagining scenarios on how I will beat the shit out of the thief and worse heart-pumping scenarios in my head.
After being angry, I calmed down with a nice smoke and started bargaining with myself and with GOD and all elements saying ‘’please get it back to me and I will be a good servant’’ and then I remembered that I did that many times and this won’t work again.
Empty feelings present themselves, and grief enters our lives on a deeper level, deeper than we ever imagined. I felt sadness everywhere. This started to affect my life and I decided to move on like I always do.
Accepting the reality that a loved one is gone, forever, and recognizing that this new reality is the permanent reality. Then I had ‘’my people’’ supporting me A LOT !
This is a small example and proof that life is strange and a perfect life doesn’t exist. It’s better to always have minor issues that you can manage so that your life is not perfect and thus the risk of having a bad thing happening will be very low.
and a song to match all of that !