An Ode To is an ongoing series dedicated by Peace Corps Volunteers to the people we meet, places we go, experiences we have, and memories we make, during or before service, with a special nod to everything we miss along the way. If you have some sweet words to share, submit them to us at pctm.stickyrice@gmail.com.
Cloé Fortier-King, 134 YinD
Meet Kiki.
The day group 134 received our Peace Corps-issued bikes, this one was set aside for a mechanical problem, but the moment I laid eyes on her lime green glory, I knew she had to be mine. After some shuffling and negotiation, she was. I’ve since realized that I robbed Kiki of 2 years of rest and relaxation in bike storage, and she’s taken revenge on me for this many times over. I spent Pre-Service Training (PST) repairing countless flat tires–including one day when both the front and rear were flat. At the end of PST, my fellow volunteers awarded me the superlative “Most Likely to Have Bike Troubles.” Yet throughout my service, Kiki and I have grown inseparable.
You might be wondering how Kiki got her name. In Thai, the word for riding a bike is ขี่ (khi) and the word for green is ขียว (khiyow). So when I ride my green bike, in my head I’m “khi-khiyow-ing”, best shortened to the name Kiki. (Is this grammatically correct? No. But it’s my bike, not grammar’s bike).
Thanks to Kiki, I arrive everywhere sweaty and breathless, my curls helmet-flattened and windswept. A bike is far from the most graceful way to get around, and this particular one is full of mischief, but somehow I wouldn’t trade Kiki for the world. That day back in PST when both my tires were flat on my way to work, a kind Thai man saw me struggling on the side of the road and fixed them for me. Nearly 2 years later, his clever use of an old tube to provide extra protection against sharp things is still in my tire. That moment was one of the earliest examples of unconditional kindness (or naam jai) in Thailand and it reminded me to ask for and accept help.
Kiki has shown me the world–within about a 10km radius of my house, of course. It may not sound like much, but this area includes all 5 of my schools, a river, a delicious khao soi restaurant, several idyllic cafes, a gym, and most importantly, not 1, not 2, but 3 7-Elevens. Seeing my students run up to ring my bike bell and comment on how tall it is, never fails to make me laugh. Tetris-ing my groceries into my little basket keeps me on my toes. This bike represents freedom and autonomy. She reminds me of the joy of a slow life. With Kiki, I can take in the beauty around me as individual trees and flowers, rather than just a green blur.
I suppose this is not so much an ode to my bike itself but to the places she’s taken me, physically and mentally. And the thing about a bike is that it doesn’t go anywhere without its rider. It’s my own energy that has been channeled by the gears; my own intention that has set the wheels on the path to success. But I know one thing for sure: I couldn’t have done this 2-year long whirlwind Peace Corps adventure without Kiki.
Sticky Rice 