OCT 17 — I’ve written before about how Egyptians love to honk continually when they are driving, and so in going against the grain of opinion buzz on the Umno assemblies, Bagan Pinang, 1 Toilet and coroner’s inquests, I thought that it would be timely to continue my little musings about Cairo’s traffic.
When a Malaysian takes that maiden journey by car on the streets of Cairo, he or she can be forgiven for pleading to be put back on the streets of Kuala Lumpur, where it is still relatively easy to cross busy roads and traffic lights work (most of the time). There is also a general (although not unanimous) consensus by both motorists and pedestrians alike, to be orderly and safe on Malaysian roads.
Contrastingly in Cairo, there is an imperative need for sheer strength of heart and mind before attempting to cross any street (zebra crossings appear to be an unknown concept) or when driving. Forget all the self-help books — there couldn’t be a greater test of belief in yourself than when you decide to take on the treacherous streets, drivers and pedestrians of Cairo.
Egyptian pedestrians will cross the wide, pot-holed roads with an air of nonchalance, whether they be pretty young ladies, seasoned street-urchins, lumbering matriarchs or hobbling geriatrics — all of whom show nothing more than a lazy fleeting glance at the oncoming vehicles racing towards them at breakneck speeds.
These pedestrians take their time to make the crossings (on freeways too, no less!), which result in the approaching vehicles honking like there’s no tomorrow and having to make swift slingshot manoeuvres accompanied by some serious yelling and swearing at the pedestrians.
Witnessing such near-misses from inside the car will often leave the (foreign) passenger white-knuckled and gasping for air, because these “brushes” between speeding vehicles and unhurried pedestrians occur within the slimmest of margins, much like the quick flick of a feather against the tip of the nose.
Why does everyone drive so aggressively and why, too, are the pedestrians so lackadaisical about their own safety when they cross the road? Surely there must have been many gory mishaps. Yet a wizened taxi driver smugly told me that given the circumstances, accidents didn’t happen as often as we would have thought, as there was an “invisible understanding” between motorist and pedestrian — their combined instinctive gauging and judgment of distance and speed somehow always works like clockwork.
Wasn’t that pushing fate a little too far?
“We Cairenes always know”, was the answer I got, just as he was accomplishing one such manoeuvre. “Egypt is a holy place. Allah always protects us and send us barakah (blessings)” he added, index finger pointing upward to the Divine One.
Allah protects everyone, I replied.
“No, Egypt is special”, he added. End of conversation.
Obviously, this is a common response when conversing with the ordinary Egyptian. Top marks for patriotism.
I never did put that driving theory to the test despite the fact that I consider myself quite lion-hearted when it comes to road crossings and driving. But, of course, that’s when it comes to driving in Malaysia, which is a breeze in comparison. On Egyptian roads, I was a lily-livered pussycat.
After a while, in order to mitigate my heart’s shrieks and jolts when traversing the streets of Cairo, I stopped paying attention to whatever was happening on the road in front and proceeded instead to busy myself with either unpunctuated conversation with the driver or fellow traveller, or to bury my head in a book.
What drives the Egyptians to, well, drive the way they do?
The Egyptian motorist’s patience threshold is remarkably weak when it comes to dealing with pedestrians or uncompromising fellow motorists. This first scenario of a simple misdemeanour such as a bumper nudge by the car behind can result in a passionate, free-for-all verbal and physical melee by the roadside, witnessed by droves of Egyptian onlookers who are quite happy to make viewing these scuffles a regular past time.
But yet when a rock the size of a baseball gets hurled fast and hard directly at your car window by bored children as you drive past — causing the glass window to only crack, thankfully — the emotionally-discrepant Egyptian driver would respond with a gentle smile and an utterance of “Alhamdulillah”, whilst we stare wide-eyed and clutch our chests, also uttering “Alhamdulillah”, but at the fact that if not for the window, we could have been an eye short!
Therein lies the contradiction within their driving personae. The high threshold of patience and acceptance displayed in the second situation is of course laudable (but it doesn’t justify the act of children using passing vehicles for target practice!), but yet when it comes to dealing with fundamentals like basic driving etiquette and making way for the pedestrian (no matter how obstinate), tempers and passions are allowed to let fly without the slightest form of restraint.
My only possible deduction for this conflicting behaviour is that in the first scenario, pride is at stake. Even in the smallest of car-scrapes, preservation of integrity (or alpha driver status) is prime. In the second scenario, the perpetrator was a child, and so, he is forgiven for not being fully aware of the magnitude of danger involved in his rash act. There is truth in this, but shouldn’t that little rascal be told a thing a two so that he understands that throwing stones to passing cars is a no-no?
The Egyptians drive the way they do because they are an emotionally passionate lot. When they are in love, they call upon the moon and stars to serenade you. They love children unconditionally, sometimes to the extent of closing their eyes to acts of disobedience (unlike disciplinarian Asians), hence why the little stone-throwing rascal didn’t get the lecture he should have. But when they fight or are in anger, they hold nothing back — regardless of whether it’s to reclaim the Sinai border from the Israelis or to fight over a parking lot.
Because of this passion (okay, coupled with bad driving habits), it is no wonder that the whole experience or participation in Egyptian traffic-related activities isn’t every foreigner’s cup of tea. I know of some people who came to Egypt with rose-tinted expectations, and all it took was for a few commutes in a taxi and a microbus (the Egyptian’s more lethal equivalent to our minibus, but in the form of a rickety VW hippie van) around Cairo to awaken them from their dreamy stupor and long to get on the next plane out of Cairo.
On the other hand, I know of others who savour the excitement and danger — and where better to experience this than on Egyptian roads, riding as passenger to unbridled motorists?
But me, I wasn’t cut out for that kind of excitement. My driving etiquette and practices are more suited for Malaysian traffic conditions — even with all our annoying mat rempits, bullying Metro buses and rally car wannabes in their souped-up Kancils and Satrias. At least with our local traffic annoyances, I know I stand a fair chance!
So if the Malaysian traffic conditions do get a little monotonous for you, or if Malaysian motorists and pedestrians seem a little too subdued, why not head over to Egypt for a little bit of excitement on the streets of Cairo?
Better yet, rent and drive your own car throughout the whole stay. I guarantee you a heart-thumping, sweat-inducing experience all the while you are on the streets. At worst, even if you give up and resort to taxis and microbuses for commute, you will be able to witness Egyptian passion at its most intense.
After that experience, I am sure Malaysian traffic conditions will seem orderly and serene!
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