Traitor to my race?

I couldn't pass myself off as a true Dutch woman even if I wanted to. Item: I don't own a bicycle. I'm very American in my view that foot and car are the two ways in which human beings should transport themselves. Most Dutch people own several bikes: a newish one they ride everywhere and then two or three old ones that gather rust in their shed. Urban legend has it that my city Utrecht has this country's the highest bicycle-to-human ratio.

When I first moved here, I borrowed one of the old bicycles from a friend's shed and rode it to work. The area around my office is a huge, confusing construction zone. The Dutch people biking around me were very aggressive and unpleasant. I hate mornings enough without getting cursed at, so I switched to commuting by foot instead. (I told this to a Dutch colleague who responded, "You must be a really dreadful bicycler to get cursed out like that. Are you one of those annoying people who stops at the red lights?")

It's eight months later, and walking still works very well for me. I am part of a four-person team at my work. Two of my colleagues have had to take sick days resulting from bicycle accidents. The third colleague is a non-biking fellow American.

Yesterday a girl on a bicycle was struck by a car in my street. I heard the screaching tires and ran to the window. The girl seemed to be ok, but her bike sure wasn't. I began thinking that the same thing could easily happen to me.

And when it does, I'll be sure that I'm the person in the car.