This Floating Life

Today I rode my bike with no hands for the very first time.

It's not something I would have done in the unpredictable streets of Beijing, but I am in Chicago now. I am in Chicago for good, and least until or unless the winds of fate blow me somewhere else. Pocket of Bolts got a new bike and I went with him when he tried it out, down on the Lakefront trail.

My Chicago bike is so small and not so comfortable compared to my Beijing bike, Lincoln, but it is lots faster and has 21 times as many gears. I like to bike sitting up straight and my Chicago bike makes me lean all forward. I am scheming about somehow raising the handlebars at least a foot higher.

Meanwhile, I tried sitting up straighter and straighter until only my knuckles were on the handlebars, then only my fingertips. Then I sat up straight all the way, and then I stretched my arms out to either side like a tightrope-walker. My legs kept steadily on like a machine. They are so strong now, much stronger than last summer.

I put my hands over my head. It was so easy, I couldn't believe I'd never managed to do it before.

Although I was wearing my blue helmet, no one stared at me like they did in Beijing. Lots of other people were wearing helmets too. It was almost enough to give me culture shock. Even the turns were easy, just a little leaning in that direction.

Earlier this afternoon there was a thunderstorm. Rain came down in sheets. There was one yesterday too. We had tried to go out and get PoB a bike yesterday, but instead we got trapped in a bookstore because of the rain and us having no umbrellas.

It was a nice bookstore. Being the thrifty person I am, I almost never buy new books. But all the same, I bought two. PoB bought two also. The lady behind the counter on purpose gave me fifteen percent off when it ought to have been ten, and let me have three quarters when it should have been only seventy-three cents. That was really nice of her, and if I had unlimited funds I would always buy books from nice little independent stores like that. (A big if.)

Seeing so many books in English gave me a culture shock too.

After we'd bought those books, we made a dash for the coffee-shop across the street. We sat there for a long time reading out books. The rain never let up. It came down in sheets. The street started to flow like a river.

Finally we wrapped up our books in the plastic bags they'd come in, and started slogging home, rain or no rain. We laughed and kept having to wipe cascades of water out of our eyes. It was like taking a shower if the whole city were one big shower. We came to a street corner where so much water was pouring down the drain that there was a whirlpool. Most of the corners had water ankle deep. There was thunder and lighting but not too close by.

When we got home we were tired and exhilarated. We threw all our clothes in the bathtub and put on pyjamas. The power was out, but the gas stove still worked. So we drank hot tea and watched a Netflix movie on our computers. We had to use both of our computers in succession because neither had been fully charged before the power went out.

We have found an apartment!

It has taken me so long to put up a post because apartment hunting was going on at full intensity from my first day back in Chicago. We celebrated our success last night with the traditional "fancy dinner paid for by taking all the collected-up coins to the coin machine in the grocery store." Sixty dollars worth! Pocket of Bolts keeps them in a huge green glass bottle, the top of which is guarded by a small blue and silver stuffed gecko, for whose acquisition I fear I am responsible.

On the way to the restaurant we passed Wrigley Field, where a Cubs game was in full swing. We were more dressed up than the fans. Men on the street corner yelled "Peanuts" at us all the same. We drank wine with dinner and drank many toasts. Then floated home very full and happy. The Cubs even won 8-5, so I hear. When we got home the power was back on. It went off and on intermittently through the night, just often enough that the bedroom AC kept us cool enough to be comfortable.

It's hard even to say how grand it is being home. Life has a kind of richness, so that the many lonely days in Beijing seem lean in retrospect. Even though I was a quite wealthy person in Beijing and thought nothing of taking a taxi in the rain or buying an armload of new books at full price, every day if I wanted. It's good to have an adventure, even when it begins to feel more like an exile--it's good not least because it makes you realize how true is the cliche, there's no place like home.