These Boots Were Made For....

I imagine that the government official in charge of traffic regulations here enjoys biking. He wears little round sunglasses, and has tie-dye bandanas in his long hair. At the city planning meetings, he shouts out things like: “Hey man, the government shouldn´t tell people how fast to drive, that´s their right”. He must be very charismatic. This is, of course, the only logical explanation for the complete lack of speed limits and lanes in the street.

However, there must be another more ¨Barty Crouch¨ type character who is equally powerful in this government, and decided to install the speed bumps. I guess they are actually more like slow down bumps. Or slow-down-or-your-entire-family-will-hit-the-roof-of-the-car bumps. I´ve come to think of them affectionately as “Car-Stallers”. They aren´t really “bumps” So much as small mountains that occur 1-5 times a street, literally forcing the driver to come to an inching crawl or else. The poor souls with smaller cars really need to be careful, as the underside of their vehicles get frequently scraped half way through.

Overall, the two messages this government is sending are ¨You can drive where you want as fast as you want” and ¨HAHAHA we don´t need cops to enforce this rule, good luck “cheating” on this one…..” The result is that driving here has a sort of lurching rhythm:

“WWOOHHOOOOO 65MPH IN TOWN BABY YEA ……….speedbump……….. THIS IS SO FUN NOTHING CAN STO ………….speedbump………….. P US WE WILL NEVER BE LATE AGAIN ………..speedbump…….”

And so on, and so on. You can imagine, I´m sure, what fun it is to be a passenger. Which leads me to question the popular view on seatbelts here.

I´ve grown up, like many of my friends, with a friendly looking cricket telling me to: “Sit Down! Buckle Up! And Save Lives!” I am also familiar with the ever popular “Click it or Ticket!” Now, I didn´t expect the latter to apply here of course (Driving into oncoming traffic or through a red-light is acceptable as long as you don´t cause an accident), but I thought, given that the back seat resembles a bouncy house, that a seatbelt would be welcomed with open arms. But no. The result is that, after a long ride, I have sympathy for my tossed salad.

However, sometimes it beats walking. Those of you, who know me, know that is a crazy thing for me to say. I LOVE walking (that´s not just a positive attitude about not having a license). I really prefer it, when possible, (this SHOCKED my host family:¨You want to WALK home from school?”) but here….I just attract too much attention. I will talk more about this whole “I haven´t seen another American in 3 weeks” thing later, but for now, let’s just leave it at: “Blonde hair is atypical”.

When I walk, I get an endless stream of comments and car horns, everywhere from the awkward: “HELLO PRETTY GIRL” to “Are you lost, white one?” and “What are you looking for?” These get on my nerves. I feel like yelling. “I am walking to my HOUSE. Because I´m going to be here for another 10 months. And I know where it is, do you see my school uniform???” But instead I just stare straight ahead and keep walking.

I´ve decided that all I can do is laugh, as several times a minute, cabs honk at me and slow down, making significant eye-contact as they inch past. They are just trying to be helpful. After all, it´s not every day you see a hopelessly naïve white girl going for a WALK. She obviously just doesn´t know how to hail a taxi.