I want to Ride my Bicycle. I want to Ride my Bike.

Here in Lusaka, most things are negotiable –and more rewarding after spirited bargaining. Bike purchases are no different. We needed two mountain bikes to get around the city prior to getting our off-road vehicle, and for the bush to go where our 4-WD can’t take us.

After much “qualitative” research during our first two days here, we were off to pursue the golden two-wheeled deal. You’ll find no Treks, Giants, or Specialized bikes here. You’d have to wait for a cold day in hell for a sleek Euro Bianchi, Pinarello, or Orbea. Bikes here are imported from China and India and tend to be rickety human powered machines. I found this out after riding home and noticed a few screws lost, a derailleur slipping loose, handle bars and stem that gradually misaligned and stubborn untrue wheels. Not to worry, two lucky Zambians will get our bikes when our year is done.

We went to several “retailers” to negotiate (a hot and sweaty rooms with bikes literally stacked one on top of the other). None could get low enough. The beauty of the bargain is the ability to walk away. If you can walk, or present the threat of the walk, ball tends to be in your court. Finally we got to a place that got closer. He started at 450,000Kw ($102); we wanted 350,000Kw ($78) per bike. The answer was negative. As we walked away, he called us back and then proposed we meet him after the shop closed 30mins later and he could get us a price from a friend. Sensing he was doing something entrepreneurial, (misrepresenting his bike shop) we negotiated lower and got 300,000Kw ($68) per bike.

Short story, he walked us about 1.5 miles weaving through bootlegged copies of Wedding Crashers, Bambi, Indecent Proposal, Armani belts and dusty electronics. We reached a near-empty compound with boys welcoming us by impersonating their favorite soccer stars with a well-loved ball. We approached a car and out popped out two Chinese gentlemen with none of the grace of Crouching Tiger, but about to show us the hidden dragon when they slid a warehouse storage gate open and we saw bikes piled high missionary style. That’s how I like it, streamline the channel, forget the retailer and middleman and head straight for wholesale. We picked two bikes, paid the Chinese, bought our Zambian friend lunch (gave him money for a cab home and exchanged contacts in the event he could help us with a 4-WD), and rode off into the dry African Sahara sunset.

Gotta love the global economy, capitalism –and the occasional entrepreneurial sales rep.



sean_deluna@yahoo.com