Wheels of freedom

Compound living has its ups and downs. (Just ask David Karesh). On the up side after each flight you come back to the same familiar place. The down side is the same as the up side. Add in the fact that the "Provided" transportation for us is a van ride to the aeroporto, there are no public buses or amenities close by, and there are issues being out at night.....well, you can feel pretty caged up.
I assumed moving around would be a lot easier. It hasn't been so far.
So the American that's used to doing and going wherever he wants
(Free Range Chicken) didn't want to surrender a certain right he was born with. The right to roam.
"Onde fica bike shop in Maputo?" I asked the compound desk lady with flowing Rasta braids. In broken english her reply was, "NO!". Feeling that maybe something was lost in translation I asked again, "Onde fica place that just sells Bikes. Only bikes. Bikes only please. Maputo, city...place shop... bike only thing....two wheels....pedal...?" "Maputo city no sell bike," was her reply. "Merde", I thought to myself. Merde is a Portuguese swear word. As I turned to leave she said, "Go to big store down street they sell you bike". Alrighty then!
The big store down the street is basically a Mozambican Target. Target has bikes and so did this place. Most of the bikes were tiny, built for circus people. There are no circuses here so they are probably built for kids. (Kids make extraordinary circus people). There was one oddly shaped blue one in the corner. It was a mountain bike with an "EXTREME POWER" sticker on the side, cool looking shocks, and no tassels. Its odd shape was due to the fact it was the only adult bike there. "Its mine", I told the MTTSE. (Mozambican Target type store employee).
After an hour of putting it together it almost rides correctly. It has questionable Chinese welds but that's OK. Freedom is at hand.

pw