The red bicycle that the young Sudanese woman buys at the beginning of Foreign Soil’s opening story, “David,” represents the misunderstanding and conflict that can develop when people make assumptions about others instead of treating them with empathy and compassion. After the young woman buys a bright red bicycle that she plans to ride alongside her young son, Nile, she runs into an older Sudanese woman, Asha, who immediately begins to ask her intrusive and judgmental questions—or so the young woman thinks. The young woman is a second-generation immigrant, and she’s used to her elders (and Nile’s grandmother, Ahmed’s mum, in particular) criticizing her for her parenting decisions, for not respecting Sudanese culture enough, and for taking for granted everything they sacrificed to give her and other young people of her generation an easier, more privileged life in Australia. So, without really knowing why Asha is so interested in the bicycle, the young woman assumes that Asha is trying to criticize her like her elders do, and she responds brusquely and defensively. However, unbeknownst to the young woman, Asha is really interested in the bike because it reminds her of her late son, David. David had a bicycle made of scrap metal that he loved and rode everywhere; through flashbacks, the reader learns that Asha witnessed enemy fighters shoot and kill David as he rode his bike away from Asha’s burning village.
Eventually, though she still doesn’t understand why Asha is so curious, the young woman relents and lets Asha ride the bike after she asks to try it. Afterward, Asha tells the young woman about David and his bike, though she leaves out the part about his death. Though the young woman doesn’t fully grasp the full extent of Asha’s trauma or the bike’s significance to her, allowing her to ride the bike and listening to what few details Asha feels comfortable sharing about David leads to a moment of connection and healing between the two women. Indeed, at the end of the story, it’s revealed that the young woman named her bike David, after Asha’s son. Thus, though linguistic and cultural barriers prevent the women from fully understanding each other, their mutual effort of putting differences aside and treating the other with compassion lessens the distance between them and allows them both to heal and grow.
The Red Bicycle Quotes in Foreign Soil
I felt awkward, had no idea what she was talking about, but felt like I was somehow supposed to. Auntie took up her grocery bag from the ground, smoothed some dirt from her skirt, walked away slowly, down toward West Footscray Station.
I stood there for a minute, staring after her. The rain had stopped. A small puddle of water had settled in the baby seat. Nile would be getting testy. It was half an hour past when I usually collected him. I threw my leg over the bike, started pedaling down the street. The Barkly Star was a dream to maneuver—smooth gliding, killer suspension, sharp brakes. Felt like I was hovering above the wet tar, flying. Like there was nothing else in the world except me and my wheels. David. I slowly rolled her brand-new name around in my mouth.