“People assume what they want to assume,” said Sunni as he shrugs his shoulders.
“We live our lives the way we think is right. We don’t seek to explain nor convert. But if you’re willing to come up to talk to us, you’ll see that we’re stereotyped.”
This is a story, an unintentional story, of a gang of bikers with a heart for animals. What was supposed to be an interview with animal lovers at SPCA’s World Animal Day carnival instead turned into a touching conversation about shattering stereotypes.
(And an afternoon joy ride on a Harley)
Sunni and Roy sat quietly in a corner outside the main event tent at SPCA’s World Animal Day carnival. Decked out in worn jeans and rockstar leathers, they cut a tough image in a crowd of cooing pet owners.
Sunni chants: “Five dollars for a joy ride and all proceeds goes to SPCA.”
A few inquisitive souls approach them for photos but few, if any at all, take up the offer of a ride.
I would admit that before this afternoon’s chance encounter with them, I too, had a bad impression of bike gangs with Harley gangs notoriously on top of the list.
I approached the stall nervously. Roy looks at me with an eyebrow raised. Sunni on the other hand jumped up to shake my hand and asked if I would like a joy ride.
I smiled and said: “Perhaps. But how do you and animal care go together?”
Sunni explained that he and Roy belonged to Singapore’s oldest Harley gang, the War Pigs, and that they believe strongly in fighting animal cruelty.
As he goes on to talk about how the War Pigs contribute to animal care, I feel a strong wave of cognitive dissonance building.
I imagine a take-no-prisoner, knuckle-duster-in-the-face, sort of two wheeled animal avengers.
Sunni laughed and said that they help with simple animal rescues and cared for strays. He points to a fellow rider’s Rottweiler and explained that it was adopted to save it from being put down.
Amid furious and angry barking from nearby poodles challenging for a fight, the Rottweiler in question laid down placidly and nuzzled its owner; seemingly oblivious to the noise.
Then it struck me. These men, as scary looking as they are, are placid because they are comfortable about who they are and truly at ease with the world looking askance at them.
It is their boulder-like self-confidence that made them different.
As I met the rest of the gang, my view of them took on a rosier tint.
These were a band of brothers united in their love for Harley bikes and celebrated, not just tolerated, their different individual lifestyle choices.
They used their bikes to express who there are and what they stood for.
I ride for the freedom of expression, said a rider.
I ride for the freedom of the open road, added another.
But today, all of them chose, on their own free will, to ride for the care of animals.
