Two (as in two seats)

We didn't bring a stroller. It was a deliberate decision. We were bogged down with 15 items of luggage already. The good stroller we would have liked to bring weighs about two tons and takes a genius an hour to put up or take down. So we didn't bring it. Of course, as soon as we arrived we wished we had.

There is some doubt whether even that heavy duty, big wheeled son of a gun could have handled the sidewalks here. They are a patchwork of brick and cement of varying levels and angles that require the savvy pedestrian to watch his footsteps with athletic care. The curb varies in height up to 24 inches or so. The potholes are frequent, huge, and unmarked. Although, sometimes there is a skinny board balancing across the gap that the barefoot locals step across with admirable confidence. I walk around.

So who knows if our stroller would have managed it but when we arrived we realized we needed a way to get these little guys around.

Bryce and I went shopping one day for household essentials and stopped at a likely shop with ironing boards. While checking out the boards (with five or six shop assistants trying to help by setting the boards up and taking them down repeatedly) we noticed these little push bikes nearby.

They were made of the same kind of stinky brittle plastic popular in dollar store brands. They had bright clashing colors that hurt the eyes and heart. But to our arms, aching from carrying two toddlers around, these plastic push bikes looked like salvation! But, there was a problem. They were all single bikes and we have two little rascals.

We checked them out a little. We fiddled around with the handles until the shop assistants gave up on the ironing boards and came over to push them back and forth for us to see. We were very impressed.

"Two?" We asked gesturing at one of the single bikes, trying to indicate an extra seat. The assistants didn't speak English but the shop owner spoke a little.

"Ah, two." He replied and gestured expansively with both hands at two of the bikes in front of us.

We conferred for a minute trying to figure out a fail-proof gesture to indicate two seats. "No. Two." Bryce insisted pointing at one bike and patting the seat.

"Ah, yes." We waited a few minutes while one of the assistants hurried off in another direction. I was forced, with polite but unflagging insistence, to make myself comfortable on a tiny plastic stool in the crowded shop while the men stood around not knowing what to say considering Bryce's complete lack of Bangla.

Finally, the shop assistant returned with a bike in every way identical to the one Bryce had first pointed at. Bummer. "Two?" We tried again pointing at the seat with even more insistence.

"Ah, two. Yes. Not too big, not too little. Two, yes." It took a long time again to explain that while we agreed that two was a great age to be riding around on these bikes we actually wanted one with two seats. Finally, just as we were about to give up another assistant showed up with this gem. Two seats! We bought it right away and left in a hurry (probably our biggest mistake since we paid 85 dollars for it).

So now we have this ugly yellow bike. A tipsy little accident waiting to happen. It definitely can't handle the sidewalks around here but it manages the streets and car park okay (if you walk and turn slowly). We'll be lucky if it lasts through the month.