The Awesome Powers of Air Polution

When I lived in Malaysia--an island off the coast, called Penang, actually, the high rise my family resided in was down the street from the school I attended. By "down the street", I really mean about a mile down a main road with little or no sidewalk, and cars pulsing in either direction constantly. For those who have never lived on an island, or in Asia, this may not sound like something that would be of major concern, but don't be fooled. Traffic on Penang "flowed", as my father always says, and I agree. It's organic, and fluid, but is also terrifying when you're on a bike at eight in the morning, three feet--often fewer--from a car or truck that could kill you if it moved just a little to the left.

This is how I spent two-three morning each week on my way to prison school.

To explain the fluidity of the traffic--in Penang, there are laws regarding how one should drive, but they aren't adhered to in the same regard that they are in America. Drivers move in and out of their, erm, "lanes", and go wherever they need to go. If there is a twenty foot space between two cars, it's yours for the taking. And there aren't clear lanes everywhere you drive. I've tried looking for them, to no avail, in some areas. My family and I would often joke about drivers in front of us "creating" their own lanes by driving in the center of the two lanes available. When you first arrive in Penang, it's a bit scary to sit in the passengers side of a car (which is on the left).

The air pollution I witnessed during my morning rides to school would be enough to give the EPA, and every environmentalist elsewhere, a heart-attack. Though, my friends said that it was nothing compared to other places they had lived, and other areas of Penang. For example, several times I biked behind trucks spewing black exhaust that smelled of burning rubber and death from the pipes at the head of vehicle. I would then have to bike through this gaseous mixture for twenty or more feet until I passed through it.

On one particular occasion while biking home, I was flying down the last decline in the road to the high-rise, and had to pass a large bus. At this particular bend in the road there was, at most, two and a half feet between you and the cars. At the the least, you were lucky if you had a full foot from your bike handles to the car's mirror. I begin passing this bus, probably at 16-19 km/hr. Around halfway through, wind catches my wheel, and for a split second, I swerve. I had two feet of safety from this bus that could easily pull me under.

Immediately, I regain the control I had lost and continue on my way home, pulling in to the car-port a few minutes later.

I have experienced turbulence that made me question my chances of living. I have performed in front of 800 people. Thrice. I have stood, voluntarily, in front of a class of thirteen year-olds, and talked about my life. I've jumped from non-extreme heights and eaten questionable food.

Nothing gave me a shock of terror so strong as this one experience of losing control for a split-second.

---------------------------------------

That's all for today, folks! Tune in next week (or in three days, of next Wednesday, I don't know yet) for Bloody Marys and Montmartre!

-Lily