How we learn — or we don't

I grew up in the crowded streets of Kolkata and my parents thought it unsafe for me to have a bicycle. I never learned to bike. I walked everywhere or took a bus — until the day I started working and bought a car. Thirty years later I was in Europe and a girlfriend suggested we take a bike tour. I was too embarrassed to admit I couldn't bike. Shortly afterward, I was on vacation in Minnesota and decided to teach myself to bike.

- (The writer is a US-based international development advisor and had worked with the World Bank. He can be reached at [e-mail])

I took others' advice about how to acquire the skill. They said, "You keep trying until you can ride." Others said, "You will keep falling, and finally get it right." Both seemed unhelpful counsel. I was a grown-up person; I couldn't afford to fall and break a bone. I decided to follow my counsel. I wanted to learn to bike without falling, at worst falling only a few times.

I had gathered that balance is critical in biking. If you can balance, you don't fall. But I had also gathered that balance is easier when you are speeding. At a slower speed, it is harder to balance. But, surely, you can't speed when you are just starting. It was a dilemma.

I borrowed a neighbor's daughter's bike, to make it easier getting on and off a young woman's bike. I searched and found a clinic's parking lot that sloped from north to south. I could now roll down and achieve some speed without having to pedal. I went with the bike to the top of the slope in the morning and started rolling down, just trying to balance. I didn't touch the pedal and focused just on balancing myself on the bike. I did this fifty times and precariously managed to avoid a fall.

In the evening, I went to the slope again and tried another fifty times.