The more I drive in India, the more it makes sense. When I first came, I was baffled and sometimes terrified by all the swerving and passing. People cross into the oncoming traffic to avoid potholes, pedestrians, cows, or sometimes just because they feel more comfortable in the middle of the road. They head into the oncoming traffic, forcing it to slow down so they have time to get back around whatever it was they were trying to avoid. This sometimes turns into a game of chicken and I’ve come to a complete stop in my lane a few times to avoid an oncoming bus who didn’t leave enough room to get back into its own lane without pushing me off the road.
But as I have driven more here, it is starting to make more sense. In America we don’t have 50 yards of potholes that would turn your axle into spaghetti if you hit it at 35 mph. There aren’t cows in the road, and bikes and pedestrians have their own lanes. Here, pedestrians, bicycles, rickshaws, motorcycles, various types of cars (some of which can’t go very fast), trucks, and buses all share the same two lanes. If you have a rickshaw in front of you, it would be very inefficient to wait for the opposite lane to be totally clear before you pass. So you judge whether the oncoming traffic can move over and three of you can pass at once. If that’s not true, then you judge how much the oncoming traffic will have to slow down to avoid contact. It is not considered rude to force people to slow down to half their speed – but not too quickly so everyone maintains reasonable cushion – which is generally about three inches.
I’ve become accustomed to the first above – moving over and turning it into a three lane street with the two smaller vehicles. I’ve only tried the second when the oncoming traffic is significantly smaller than our jeep. I must confess that I once brought the oncoming three-wheel autos to a halt. I was trying to pass a very slow truck on a busy road. I waited for an open gap and pulled out judging that the oncoming three wheelers would only have to slow a little - and that they would be very motivated to since I’m much bigger. Remember that this is not considered rude. I pull out and accelerated, but half way around the truck I spotted an oncoming pothole big enough to swallow a Volkswagen. I slowed quickly, and now there was no way I was getting around the truck. The truck was so slow that while I waited for it to pass the oncoming three-wheelers pulled up right in front of me and stopped. I stopped too. I was embarrassed. When it passed I cranked the wheel hard to the left and slunk back into my lane behind the very slow truck. But the men in the three wheelers didn’t honk, make that hand gesture that means “what do you think you’re doing,” give me dirty looks, or even “you’re stupid” looks. It was a natural mistake, and probably one they’ve made.
I get passed a lot myself. I drive much more slowly than most commercial drivers. I’ve learned to slow, pull over, and wave people through. They frequently come up right behind you and honk. This isn’t considered rude, it’s polite communication. There’s even a thank-you honk for when people make space for you to pass. It’s polite to honk at pedestrians to let them know you’re coming closer than they’d like so they can move. Passing is a way of life and it’s much safer if there is better communication.
The other day, I even got passed by a wheelchair. In the movie, The Office, there is a scene making fun of a commute traffic where the main character is passed by a geriatric with a walker. Well in that scene the old woman had a clear sidewalk and no other vehicles to deal with. My wheelchair friend was fighting the same traffic I was! While weaving my way across town to pick up Rebecca from a meeting and I spotted a wheelchair bicycle in my rear view mirror. These are common in Siliguri – a three-wheeled bicycle rigged so you can steer with one hand and turn the pedal crank with the other. I have to confess I eased over in my lane so he couldn’t come up on my right. If he did I’d have trouble getting around the jam that was ahead of me. As I waited for cars to funnel through the narrow opening ahead, the wheelchair, navigating the rickshaws and motorcycles that were moving past the stuck cars, zipped by me and was at his destination before I got to the jam.
The car is slower than the scooter, but it is nice to be out of the sun and rain and it is the best way to get Elijah around. He doesn’t mind being passed by wheelchairs or sharing the road with cows.
Paul
