I am currently reading a pretty interesting travel novel, Beyond the Pyramids by Douglas Kennedy. In the book he recounts his travels through Egypt - the places he sees, the people he meets etc. One passage in particular reminded me a lot of Tanzania. Both Egypt and Tanzania have a heavy Islamic influence and Kennedy's explanation on Egyptian motor habits may as well have been talking about Tanzania:
I turned away from Ramleh Square, and attempted to cross the street. This can be a nervy adventure in Egypt, where the rules of the road go something like this: ignore all traffic lights, stop signs or pedestrian crossings. Drive at maximum speed, even in the most congested streets. Never indicate that you are changing lanes (use your car horn instead). Always cut across an oncoming vehicle's path. Consider any pedestrian a suitable target for liquidation.
I made the mistake of thinking that a green light in my favor actually meant that I could cross the street in relative safety. This turned out to be a bad deduction, for half-way across the road, I turned and saw a batallion of cars bearing down on me. It was like being an alien craft in a game of Space Invaders, and I dove for the pavement, just missing the wrath of a Fiat. an elderly man dressed in a 'galabiya' helped me up after I landed, dusted me off, and seizing me by the arm, led me back into the fray.
'This time I think we make it, Inshallah', he said.
Inshallah means 'Allah willing', and the principle of divine intervention seems to be at work every time you encounter a motor vehicle in Egypt. There is a grim fatalism about Egyptian driving habits -- a belief that you can be wildly dangerous behind the wheel because Allah is the only traffic cop worth listening to, and He alone will decide whether or not you'll make it around the next hairpin curve. The passion for chaos on Egypt's road is an indication of the degree to which accepted western notions of order are given low priority in this society. and it leaves you wondering: is everybody in Egypt living on his nerves?
I turned away from Ramleh Square, and attempted to cross the street. This can be a nervy adventure in Egypt, where the rules of the road go something like this: ignore all traffic lights, stop signs or pedestrian crossings. Drive at maximum speed, even in the most congested streets. Never indicate that you are changing lanes (use your car horn instead). Always cut across an oncoming vehicle's path. Consider any pedestrian a suitable target for liquidation.
I made the mistake of thinking that a green light in my favor actually meant that I could cross the street in relative safety. This turned out to be a bad deduction, for half-way across the road, I turned and saw a batallion of cars bearing down on me. It was like being an alien craft in a game of Space Invaders, and I dove for the pavement, just missing the wrath of a Fiat. an elderly man dressed in a 'galabiya' helped me up after I landed, dusted me off, and seizing me by the arm, led me back into the fray.
'This time I think we make it, Inshallah', he said.
Inshallah means 'Allah willing', and the principle of divine intervention seems to be at work every time you encounter a motor vehicle in Egypt. There is a grim fatalism about Egyptian driving habits -- a belief that you can be wildly dangerous behind the wheel because Allah is the only traffic cop worth listening to, and He alone will decide whether or not you'll make it around the next hairpin curve. The passion for chaos on Egypt's road is an indication of the degree to which accepted western notions of order are given low priority in this society. and it leaves you wondering: is everybody in Egypt living on his nerves?
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