Funny how it goes when you’ve just moved to a new place. The first thing you will inspect by default is traffic. You really have no choice. You know from the first time you're picked up at the airport. This in turn will determine your method of transportation. In a place like New York City, for example, that was a no-brainer. I will eat fried sewer rat before ever getting behind a wheel for an opportunity to run over one. In DC, it was a little different. There are three stages you go through as an observer and potential candidate for driver on the Beltway.
1. These people are damn fast. I don’t think I can.
2. What morons. I wonder if I can.
3. These people drive like jackasses. I know I can.
That, of course, applies to jackasses only. Everybody else will drive and follow the rules, presumably because they have a brain. In Jordan we noticed that people had rules of their own, and here I am referring to a different set of rules that applies to every car. Some people will hug lanes, some will use the wrong lanes, the ablest within this jungle will create lanes. So the instinctive ‘no way’ will slowly metamorphose to a ’what the heck’ to the smart and final ’Screw this. I am going to drive, all right. I am going to get enough horse power to run all of these delinquents off the road‘. The rules of the road were that simple in Jordan: might makes right. If I have an SUV, you will move your 3 PS pansy-ass golf cart out of the way, or somebody will do it for you. A sound q.e.d. for Darwin’s theory as applied to the road.
Which brings us to Kathmandu. I have been here for almost two months. After observing traffic on multiple occasions, my first instinct was that I would rather celebrate Hannukah in the West Bank than drive here in Nepal. Almost two months later, after further review, I would still rather celebrate Hannukah in the West Bank than drive here.
Never mind the pot craters in the street I have amply described, or the fact that people fancy themselves descendants of subjects of the British Empire and drive on the left side. But this is not just about the streets and the cars, or the cars in the streets. If only the streets were actually for the cars, then the choice would be a simple one to make. Even though people in California choke on smog by the millions, there is little room for interpretation in regard to who uses the freeways: cars. Simple, huge, loud, smog-belching, emphysema-carrying cars.
Unfortunately, that’s not how it works here.
Today, on my way home from the Embassy, I come across motorcycles, bicycles, cows, dogs, goats, busses, and rickshaws. Oops, forgot the pedestrians. Very important. So far, so good, right? I won’t complain that that street is the width of a pool table. But, let’s make this a little spicier here. How about no sidewalks? And why stop there? Those damn traffic lights, they only conserve much-needed energy. Away you go. And since people are in the business of progress here, what would you say if they decided to schedule road repairs…during rush hour? A capital idea, I say. This will enable thirty cars, bicycles, and buses to occupy a couple of square feet for hours, thus making this whole spectacle far more entertaining than the thirty clowns packed in a Smart car. And for kicks, let’s just lose the signs, shall we? Leave the rules on the street up to the imagination of the good Nepalis here. Throw a policeman in the middle of every tenth intersection, and traffic in this city might actually work and flow freely. Everybody listens to a cop, right? Only if you can't buy him.
One thing is not up for discussion in traffic. Supremacy of animals must be respected at all times. Know that the animal always has the right of way, which is your first step toward enlightenment.
Traffic in Kathmandu is like watching a YouTube clip. Until you find out it's just a rerun of America’s Funniest Videos where people bang into each other, bicycles fly end over end into a pond, and animals escape from the zoo. In Kathmandu, I have seen people fill potholes with cow dung. I have seen dirt-paved alleyways jam-packed. I have seen pedestrians cross the crowded streets using car hoods as their stepping stones. And through it all, people always find new ways to improvise and stretch the rules, provided they exist. More than not, they don't. But that's perfectly okay. Anarchy is not such a bad thing, really. Because it means you will get away with far more than you probably would elsewhere. I don’t know what I’ll see tomorrow, but I am waiting with bated breath, actually a good idea with the air quality we have here.
1. These people are damn fast. I don’t think I can.
2. What morons. I wonder if I can.
3. These people drive like jackasses. I know I can.
That, of course, applies to jackasses only. Everybody else will drive and follow the rules, presumably because they have a brain. In Jordan we noticed that people had rules of their own, and here I am referring to a different set of rules that applies to every car. Some people will hug lanes, some will use the wrong lanes, the ablest within this jungle will create lanes. So the instinctive ‘no way’ will slowly metamorphose to a ’what the heck’ to the smart and final ’Screw this. I am going to drive, all right. I am going to get enough horse power to run all of these delinquents off the road‘. The rules of the road were that simple in Jordan: might makes right. If I have an SUV, you will move your 3 PS pansy-ass golf cart out of the way, or somebody will do it for you. A sound q.e.d. for Darwin’s theory as applied to the road.
Which brings us to Kathmandu. I have been here for almost two months. After observing traffic on multiple occasions, my first instinct was that I would rather celebrate Hannukah in the West Bank than drive here in Nepal. Almost two months later, after further review, I would still rather celebrate Hannukah in the West Bank than drive here.
Never mind the pot craters in the street I have amply described, or the fact that people fancy themselves descendants of subjects of the British Empire and drive on the left side. But this is not just about the streets and the cars, or the cars in the streets. If only the streets were actually for the cars, then the choice would be a simple one to make. Even though people in California choke on smog by the millions, there is little room for interpretation in regard to who uses the freeways: cars. Simple, huge, loud, smog-belching, emphysema-carrying cars.
Unfortunately, that’s not how it works here.
Today, on my way home from the Embassy, I come across motorcycles, bicycles, cows, dogs, goats, busses, and rickshaws. Oops, forgot the pedestrians. Very important. So far, so good, right? I won’t complain that that street is the width of a pool table. But, let’s make this a little spicier here. How about no sidewalks? And why stop there? Those damn traffic lights, they only conserve much-needed energy. Away you go. And since people are in the business of progress here, what would you say if they decided to schedule road repairs…during rush hour? A capital idea, I say. This will enable thirty cars, bicycles, and buses to occupy a couple of square feet for hours, thus making this whole spectacle far more entertaining than the thirty clowns packed in a Smart car. And for kicks, let’s just lose the signs, shall we? Leave the rules on the street up to the imagination of the good Nepalis here. Throw a policeman in the middle of every tenth intersection, and traffic in this city might actually work and flow freely. Everybody listens to a cop, right? Only if you can't buy him.
One thing is not up for discussion in traffic. Supremacy of animals must be respected at all times. Know that the animal always has the right of way, which is your first step toward enlightenment.
Traffic in Kathmandu is like watching a YouTube clip. Until you find out it's just a rerun of America’s Funniest Videos where people bang into each other, bicycles fly end over end into a pond, and animals escape from the zoo. In Kathmandu, I have seen people fill potholes with cow dung. I have seen dirt-paved alleyways jam-packed. I have seen pedestrians cross the crowded streets using car hoods as their stepping stones. And through it all, people always find new ways to improvise and stretch the rules, provided they exist. More than not, they don't. But that's perfectly okay. Anarchy is not such a bad thing, really. Because it means you will get away with far more than you probably would elsewhere. I don’t know what I’ll see tomorrow, but I am waiting with bated breath, actually a good idea with the air quality we have here.
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