Mamachari

Each place I move, to varying degrees, there is some sort of cultural practice or item I admire and adopt. After all, people worldwide face a lot of the same problems, and different cultures mean a different way of looking at those problems, and therefore different solutions.

In Seoul, it was the food. Usually comfort food is something you grow up eating, but for me, Korean food entered my world and took up residence as what I crave regularly. When I need edible comfort, please pass the kimchi jjigae.

In Hong Kong, it was the domestic helper. While I didn’t adopt the custom to the full force of the locals (many families hire one helper per child), I was grateful to have our wonderful helper Sheryl at hand so I could focus on the kids rather than on certain aspects of life in Hong Kong that I found challenging, like grocery shopping in stores with aisles too tiny for strollers.

In Tokyo, there are lots of little solutions to everyday problems that are fun to discover—like the stapleless stapler—but the item that has truly stolen my heart is the mamachari, my “mama chariot,” an electric-assisted bicycle with child seats. It definitely cost more than the passed-down ‘90s-era car we bought from a departing embassy family, but I’m convinced it’s my favorite purchase of all time.

My bike has two seats—one for Damien nestled between the handlebars, and one for Luca on the back. I ride it almost every day, and rarely do I ride it without smiling. It simply makes me happy! I get to see this amazing city above ground in the fresh air, all while exercising and getting to my destination usually faster than if I were to schlep my stroller through the elevators of subway stations. I can just plug my kids into their straps and helmets and cruise straight to my destination. Plus, bike travel is much more fun for my kids.

You know when you kick off on a bike for a ride and slowly build up momentum? Well, the electric-assist basically allows me to start at speed—as if I was starting on a downhill slope. By the end of a 45-minute ride in the city, I feel like I’ve exercised, but I’m not dying. Without the electric-assist, the weight of the very sturdy bicycle combined with my own and that of two children would be extremely difficult to manage even on flat surfaces, but Tokyo is a city of many hills, and the electric-assist means riding uphill is not a big deal. It’s still a challenge if the hill is very steep, but it’s doable.

A word about safety: Most people put helmets on their children, but I rarely see an adult wearing one. In fact, I’m pretty sure people find it strange or perhaps geeky that I strap one on myself. Now, drivers in Tokyo are extremely aware of bicyclists, and the roads and sidewalks are set up to accommodate them, so that certainly helps. But I still remember an elementary school classmate whose life was spared because he was wearing a helmet when a car struck his bike, so, unless I am riding only in our neighborhood where the cars drive slowly and I don’t use a main road, I wear my helmet, however geeky I look.

I remember when Joe first mentioned the idea of looking into an electric-assisted bike, I literally rolled my eyes. That’s silly, I thought. It’s probably some ridiculous-looking contraption, and who needs help riding a bike, anyway? What’s the point of riding if a motor is doing the work for you?

I am incredibly glad I gave the idea a chance. It just goes to show—sometimes a new idea sounds ridiculous or strange or crazy, but if you’re open, you might find just the thing to improve your every day.