The Zen of Bicycle Bowing

I am glad to announce to all of you that after precisely 3 weeks on a bicycle in Okinawa, I have perfected the perilous Bicycle Bow. This triumph is nothing at which to scoff, so wipe that smirk off your face. The Bicycle Bow is serious business here in my new pacific home. The bow is similar to the American 'raised hand of thanks' (as I hereby dub it): like when oncoming traffic stops to let you turn left (except it's right here) in front of them. And you raise your hand and smile. Thanks! But back to the Bow now.

Bowing, as most of you know, is an intrinsic part of Japanese culture. Indeed, I am hard-pressed to convey to you the omnipresence of the Bow in Japan. One bows upon coming, going, entering, exiting, answering, asking, giving, receiving, etc… one even bows on the phone. That's right, all alone in your house, for no one to see. People are constantly bobbing up and down on this island, and I am not about to single myself out (anymore so than my physical appearance and glaring lack of finesse with chopsticks already does) by snubbing this cultural institution. Catching on to the Bow isn't that difficult in most situations. I open myself to the zen, look around and see what the hokey-pokey IS all about… Being aware of my environment has given me several simple rules to follow. For example, do the baby-bob in time with the word "hai" (yes), do the big-bob when I pass the principle's desk.

BUT: move this motion to the back of a bike and it immediately qualifies as dangerous multi-tasking. It's like pat your head and rub your tummy on wheels. Can I rotate my feet, perform the turn-signal with one arm, and contort my upper body over the handlebars, thus losing the important sense of sight for a brief moment, ALL AT THE SAME TIME?! Last week, the answer was no. My Bicycle Bow involved a teeter, a totter, a wildly flailing signal-arm and a falling foot as the head jerked spastically somewhere in a general southern direction (perhaps taking a detour to the left or right side depending on which of my feet has fallen from the peddle to right my balance).

Yes, how embarrassing. Thank you for letting me turn in front of you, sorry I fell off my bike in the middle of the highway and probably made you late for work, at the same time affronting your culture by maiming the simple art of bowing.

For others of you out there experiencing the same difficulties (or if you still can't pat your head and rub your tummy) let me reassure you that it just takes practice. You know, like defensive driving. Remember when your mom made you read, "Zen and the Art of Driving" before you took the test? Oh wait, maybe that was only our mom. Yes, if you open your mind, one day it will come.

But with it come a multitude of unanswered questions. Do the Japanese find the Raised Hand of Thanks as treacherous an undertaking as gaijin find the Bicycle Bow? Impossible! They could simply morph the signal-hand into a five-fingered palm and back again, without having to move any body appendages. Piece of cake. This leads me further to the question: is there ANYTHING gaijin can do that Japanese people can't? Answer: NO! They can all eat with utensils AND chopsticks, they can all write in our alphabet AND their scripts. They can all stomach raw fish AND cooked fish, and they could kick our ass any day in a round of rock-paper-scissors.

I am disgruntled. But I console myself with the thought that at least Bicycle Bow is under my belt.