Those Middle-Eastern Drivers!

I have owned a "Vespa" motor scooter for a number of years. If you do not know what a "Vespa" is, remember the scooter that you see in the movies when a spy in Europe needs to make a quick get-a-way and he jumps on the first thing available? The one where the beautiful girl is on the back, clutching his waist? Yes, that is a Vespa. They are made in Italy.  

I became enchanted with the Vespa when I lived in Asia where they were common and were sort of the "Cadillac" of scooters. The motor is unseen, under the seat and it was common to see women in high heels or men in business suits riding down traffic-congested streets. Years later, after returning to the U.S. I purchased one for myself and have enjoyed riding on weekends and to work on sunny days. I even got one for my wife for mothers day!

Reactions are varied. Some people in their a 50's or older remember when Vespas could often be seen in the U.S. Sears & Roebuck even sold one under the name of "Allstate." Teenagers don't quite know what to make of it. I rode up beside an adolescent on a "crotch rocket" and saw his mouth moving with the words, "What the ?*@#*!!??"

One day, my Vespa was parked in my driveway and I was working in the front yard. A car stopped and a dark man of apparent middle-eastern descent walked up to me and, with heavily accented English  said, "In my country, when I was a boy, I rode on one like this everyday!" I enjoyed reminiscing with him about this common interest of ours. He was from Pakistan and lived just a few blocks from me.

We became good friends. He would always wave when he passed, often with his veiled wife and several children in his car with him. Occasionally he would stop and chat. We talked about the weather, the economy, or whatever. Several times I offered to let him ride my Vespa, but he always declined.

Last summer my Vespa was stolen from in front of my office. When I saw my friend driving by my house I flagged him down to tell him the bad news. I knew he would care about my loss. He just shook his head and seemed genuinely grieved. We talked for a while about whether I would try to get another one and he went on his way.

This experience with my Vespa has been repeated often. At the Starbucks where I often hang out, there is a group of people that appear to be from an African country who like to drink coffee and chat there.  I see them often. Once when I parked my Vespa out front, I could see them nodding admiringly, like American men might look with awe upon a Harley Davidson or a pick-up truck with all the extras. One man, who told me he was from the country of Eritrea became nostalgic when sharing with me that his uncle was the first person in his village to own a Vespa. Once, as I started-up the engine (a sound which some have compared to a sewing machine), one man had such a satisfied look on his face as he said, "I just love that sound."

It is great to have found these friends with whom I can share my interest. I also feel privileged that I can share theirs.


To subscribe to this Blog, type your email address in the box at the top of this page, hit 'submit' and follow the prompts. If you are viewing on a mobile device, click on the tab that says view web version and you will then see the box where you can enter your email address to subscribe.  Thanks for following.