This is a boy with a motorcycle near a native house by the sea.
The motorcycle is a small Honda, a common type seen all over the country and in many other Asian countries as well, basic transportation. It’s not very fast or powerful, but it can be decked out with shiny exhaust pipes loud enough to attract attention to its owner, and annoy everyone else.
The house does not belong to the boy; he’s just visiting. The motorcycle doesn’t really belong to him either; he has it on a payment plan from the dealer, who holds the title. In fact he’s months behind on his payments, and has just been served notice that the motorcycle will be repossessed if he doesn’t come up with the money by the end of the month. That’s why he looks so sad and upset.
The motorcycle means everything to him: his service to his sisters, the respect of his friends, the smiles of the girls he passes along the streets. It is his freedom and independence. Without his bike he would feel like a marathon runner in a wheelchair. He’s desperately trying to think of some way to come up with the money in time; he’ll do almost anything to get it.
That’s why it’s nice to be a motorcycle dealer. A motorcycle is an emotional necessity for your customers; most of them cannot pay cash and go on payment plans; they often wind up paying you more than double the purchase price with interest charges; they would rather go hungry than let you repossess; but if they finally default, you can take back the bike, clean it up and sell it again.
But of course the dealers are not demons, just business men. And their customers are certainly not angels either. Many will use fake ID’s and fake references and lie about everything on their credit applications; some will even will wreck and ruin the bikes they financed and make their dealers search for the remains, while they laugh and disappear somewhere without payment.
This boy hasn’t done any of those things, and he probably won’t. He just wants to keep his bike, and doesn’t have the money he needs. But he’ll probably find a way to get it; if he doesn’t, and loses the bike, he will, eventually, find a way to get another one. And so the dance goes on.