The roads here

Although I bought a car before coming here, I don’t drive regularly. The most I’ve ventured is to the grocery store, which is less than two miles away, or, in desperation, to the kennel, which is near the airport. Both are equally terrifying to me. The roads are narrow with all kinds of obstacles in the way somehow – some of them living and breathing.

The grocery store is about five turns away, left out of my garage and then the drive, then a sharp (and blind) right up a giant hill. Then, there’s a left out of the apartment complex, thankfully assisted by the guard. But that’s where the scary begins, because the road doesn’t so much have lands or anything, plus there is always an assortment of people, vendors, motortaxis and such along the sides. This is in addition of it not really being wide enough for two cars to begin with, and that’s not counting the slight ditch on either side or the giant concrete thing that squishes two “lanes” into one.

But after that, as well as a bizarre right that’s sort of a cut through of a gas station with no real traffic pattern and a left at a pharmacy where three roads come together with no discernable right-of-way, it’s all downhill to the grocery store. I mean, there are taxi vans stopping in front of you all the time, people jumping out, random dogs and things like that, but the line of sight is good – at least until you arrive at the roundabout. If there are police there directing traffic, that’s always a mess, but if not, it runs more or less how it’s supposed to, although I’ll never enter one without saying a prayer and holding my breath.

Yesterday, it was a little scarier than usual because almost immediately after the roundabout, the grocery store is on the right. Since it’s a two-lane roundabout that feeds from a single lane, it’s a bit risky, and Friday morning there was a giant blue van sitting on the side of the road, out of traffic but getting ready to enter. I had to honk to make sure he didn’t run into me, but it was fine.

Honking isn’t impolite here, but mostly people, especially taxi van drivers, rely on a lot of (polite) hand signals. A wave outside the driver’s since window can either mean “I see you and I’m waiting on you to go,” “I see you and I acknowledge you’re there, but I’m going anyway” or “My turn, just hold on a sec.” No malice seems intended.

The kennel is a bit farther away but, after the initial downhill through a market (thankfully, one way, although there are way too many people there), a blind right turn and a much bigger roundabout, it’s less crowded and therefore not as bad. Well, unless it’s rush hour. Then, the turn out of the kennel road is a left and that’s never, ever done without a prayer.

So yeah, I drive as little as possible. We have a shuttle we can pay to take to and from work, and I have no problem letting a professional drive. Every day, I am reminded why I don’t drive.

It’s the rainy season, so the rains have compounded the issues with the roads, which are full of potholes on their best days. There are also little shops and such crowding the streets and people flooding the areas, making driving pretty heart-stopping.

The way itself isn’t more than 6-7 miles, but it can take an hour or more. Last rainy season, on a day I walked home in 1:20, it took the commuters three hours. There are only about four turns – one of them hairpin – but it’s a lot of winding on the overly-crowded road. Once we’re at the roundabout, though, there are two ways to go – the long way, or “Skinny Road.” The long way is the safe bet, but it takes forever because traffic is at a standstill before the next roundabout. After that, you’re home free, but getting there can take 20 minutes.

Skinny Road, OTOH, is a quicker route, but it’s also like a cut-rate Disney ride. It’s not paved, full of potholes and, well, skinny. When my colleagues take it, they tuck in their rearview mirrors so as not the dink them. One commented that every time he took the road, it took 10 years off his car’s life. Fortunately, it’s (mostly) one-way, although occasionally a motorcyclist or banana cart guy will buck the system and mess everything up. My fear is a flat tire – there’s nothing you can do.

Before deploying overseas, we have to take this week-long course that includes defensive – really defensive – driving, including how to get out of nightmare situations. This could mean ramming into a car to get away or jumping curbs. Well, on Skinny Road, neither is possible. The concept of curbs in general isn’t a thing here. It’s always a relief when you can see the end, although if there’s a car that’s going to try to go the other way, it’s going to be at that spot. But oh, to get off the pothole-y dirt road and back to pavement, no matter how potholed it is, is a relief.