Almost four weeks ago my number finally came up in the "riding a motorbike in Vietnam" game that is akin to Russian Roulette. Riding home from an assignment I was stopping to get gas when I was hit from behind by a girl who was probably riding with one hand while typing a text message to her boyfriend with the other. I hit the deck pretty hard and looked down to see my left foot was on back the front, my ankle (at least) broken. Luckily for me two foreigners were in the gas station and they called the ambulance and my girlfriend and stayed with me until the ambulance arrived. My eternal thanks to Neil and Julia for their help that day. The culprit made a miraculous recovery, dusted herself off, gave me a long look and then, too much of a coward to face the consequences of her actions, simply rode off, leaving me lying in the middle of the road like a mongrel dog. Almost four weeks later and following surgery to insert a plate to hold my ankle together while it heals I hang in my apartment, like a gym sock on a shower rail.
Karma can he a real bitch. Here's hoping.
