Yes, I'm talking about driving in a third world country. I know that it is not limited to the country I am in as I can not imagine that there are not a hundred other countries with drivers as crazy as they are out here. "Third-world" or not, I acknowledge the fact that I am not alone.
This year is my third time out here, so I knew what to expect. The first time I visited my family had only been here nine months and so they rather expected for me to be shocked. By the next year, however, they were completely unaccustomed to the "normal" way of driving, as they had fully adopted the new normal. All this means is that when I would gasp and shriek as we were driving a long they whipped their head around to me, perturbed at my outburst. It took them some time to realize that I was not used to what I was seeing and experiencing on the roads of this crazy big city they live in. By my third visit (my time here now) I've learned to keep my mouth shut for the most part. That is until now.
I've quickly discovered how much lanes are taken for granted in the States. Here, lanes are guidelines here. No, actually, lanes are just laughable pointless lines on the road. There is no such thing as a safe lane change here, because you kind of just drift from one side of the road to the other, if your bumper is ahead of theirs, you have the right of way. If you're on the losing end, you better move out the way or else you will get bumped out of the way and cursed at while doing so.
Now I will talk about intersections. All intersections, slow or busy in America have stop lights, turning lanes, even lights for turning lanes, and you have to be stupid to not know which lane you are suppose to be turning into. Here you have to be stupid to think you know which lane you will be turning into, or even from. You have to turn left, but you are in the far right lane of a three, four car wide street? No problem, DO AS YOU PLEASE! I live in a huge metropolis, so I can't say what it is like in the more rural areas of the region. We do have busy intersections with adequate stop lights. However, if the intersecting crossroads are in any way NOT major, it's a free for all. How do you turn then? Well, you drive out IN TO THE MIDDLE OF TRAFFIC, and wait. If it's possible, you may try to keep out of the way of oncoming traffic, from both your front and your back, but if that's not an option, well then it's not an option and traffic must go around you or stop until oncoming cars lend you an opportunity to make your desired turn.
Trucks and buses terrify me in the States. Why? Well, for starters I do not like things being bigger than me. That includes people too, if I'm being honest. Then take the fact that I do not enjoy driving, and the idea of the automobile is kind of scary to me. How many tons of machinery driving HOW FAST? Well, trucks and buses here follow the same rules as all cars: there are no rules. In fact, there's only one rule for class C drivers out here, and that is that when you see a bus or a truck YOU GET OUT OF THE WAY. All you can do is pray that you are not in their blind spot when they decide to turn, merge, or swerve just to give the common man a jolt. They reign supreme on the wild streets of this city and they know it.
Drivers. Now I must tread lightly on this ground. Why? Because I understand that people who drive in this country are reading this. Take what you are about to read with this in mind: I have and will only ever be a passenger in this country. I will never trust myself enough to drive in this country. I do not wish to invalidate any ones skill as a driver in these parts. Crazy as they may be, in some odd way they are probably some of the best drivers I know. Why? Because driving here is A WAR ZONE. I respect the struggle, but I do not wish to join it, because as I said before, they are crazy. It's every man for himself out their and every one insane enough to get on the road knows it. Defensive drivers are non existent.
My favorite part about drivers here is just one hand gesture. What is it? Well, they simply raise their open palmed hand in the air. This? This pardons all wrong doing. Someone is cutting you off at the round about? No worries, they raised their hand. All is forgiven. A moped is driving down the highway the wrong way? Hand up? It's forgotten. Pedestrians join this game too! They weave their way through traffic the same as cars. You're about to hit the gas but someone steps out right in front of you. Well they've not only raised their hand but placed the other one on their chest, this basically means you two are chums now. Like you've shared some sort of experience and the bond can not be broken. He crosses safely to the other side and you have the illusion that you have a new best friend. Forget the fact that you almost killed him and he's totally at fault. Crosswalks exist but the value of them should, at this point of my post, be understood.
As fast as my heart has beat and as sweaty as I may get just being an eternal passenger in this crazy city I would not change this experience for anything. I am just about halfway through my extended stay here, and I'm still alive and uninjured. Lord willing the next two months, I will not have to recant this testimony.
This year is my third time out here, so I knew what to expect. The first time I visited my family had only been here nine months and so they rather expected for me to be shocked. By the next year, however, they were completely unaccustomed to the "normal" way of driving, as they had fully adopted the new normal. All this means is that when I would gasp and shriek as we were driving a long they whipped their head around to me, perturbed at my outburst. It took them some time to realize that I was not used to what I was seeing and experiencing on the roads of this crazy big city they live in. By my third visit (my time here now) I've learned to keep my mouth shut for the most part. That is until now.
I've quickly discovered how much lanes are taken for granted in the States. Here, lanes are guidelines here. No, actually, lanes are just laughable pointless lines on the road. There is no such thing as a safe lane change here, because you kind of just drift from one side of the road to the other, if your bumper is ahead of theirs, you have the right of way. If you're on the losing end, you better move out the way or else you will get bumped out of the way and cursed at while doing so.
Now I will talk about intersections. All intersections, slow or busy in America have stop lights, turning lanes, even lights for turning lanes, and you have to be stupid to not know which lane you are suppose to be turning into. Here you have to be stupid to think you know which lane you will be turning into, or even from. You have to turn left, but you are in the far right lane of a three, four car wide street? No problem, DO AS YOU PLEASE! I live in a huge metropolis, so I can't say what it is like in the more rural areas of the region. We do have busy intersections with adequate stop lights. However, if the intersecting crossroads are in any way NOT major, it's a free for all. How do you turn then? Well, you drive out IN TO THE MIDDLE OF TRAFFIC, and wait. If it's possible, you may try to keep out of the way of oncoming traffic, from both your front and your back, but if that's not an option, well then it's not an option and traffic must go around you or stop until oncoming cars lend you an opportunity to make your desired turn.
Trucks and buses terrify me in the States. Why? Well, for starters I do not like things being bigger than me. That includes people too, if I'm being honest. Then take the fact that I do not enjoy driving, and the idea of the automobile is kind of scary to me. How many tons of machinery driving HOW FAST? Well, trucks and buses here follow the same rules as all cars: there are no rules. In fact, there's only one rule for class C drivers out here, and that is that when you see a bus or a truck YOU GET OUT OF THE WAY. All you can do is pray that you are not in their blind spot when they decide to turn, merge, or swerve just to give the common man a jolt. They reign supreme on the wild streets of this city and they know it.
Drivers. Now I must tread lightly on this ground. Why? Because I understand that people who drive in this country are reading this. Take what you are about to read with this in mind: I have and will only ever be a passenger in this country. I will never trust myself enough to drive in this country. I do not wish to invalidate any ones skill as a driver in these parts. Crazy as they may be, in some odd way they are probably some of the best drivers I know. Why? Because driving here is A WAR ZONE. I respect the struggle, but I do not wish to join it, because as I said before, they are crazy. It's every man for himself out their and every one insane enough to get on the road knows it. Defensive drivers are non existent.
My favorite part about drivers here is just one hand gesture. What is it? Well, they simply raise their open palmed hand in the air. This? This pardons all wrong doing. Someone is cutting you off at the round about? No worries, they raised their hand. All is forgiven. A moped is driving down the highway the wrong way? Hand up? It's forgotten. Pedestrians join this game too! They weave their way through traffic the same as cars. You're about to hit the gas but someone steps out right in front of you. Well they've not only raised their hand but placed the other one on their chest, this basically means you two are chums now. Like you've shared some sort of experience and the bond can not be broken. He crosses safely to the other side and you have the illusion that you have a new best friend. Forget the fact that you almost killed him and he's totally at fault. Crosswalks exist but the value of them should, at this point of my post, be understood.
As fast as my heart has beat and as sweaty as I may get just being an eternal passenger in this crazy city I would not change this experience for anything. I am just about halfway through my extended stay here, and I'm still alive and uninjured. Lord willing the next two months, I will not have to recant this testimony.
