When I got here two weeks ago, there were no functioning traffic lights, and the rules we normally follow for lights that are out of service do not apply here in the land of San Juan.
For that matter, I am not sure that I understand the traffic rules that do apply here under normal circumstances. But we are definitely not in the land of "All lanes stop, and traffic proceeds in turns from the right".
In the post-Maria environment, driving in San Juan is a winner-take-all, devil-take-the-hindmost clustermess of the first order. And rights of tonnage do apply: the biggest, baddest vehicles win every head-to-head confrontation. Literally.
There is also a scarification system in place, where battered vehicles have an advantage over pristine ones. (Drafting on the bumper of a semi as it barrels through the intersections, riding the wave of scattered vehicles and honking sedans.... well, I find it to be an effective technique, when I can manage it.) The driving, as I mentioned before, appeals to my chaotic nature, and brings out a different personality in me. I love it.
And then this week, something terrible happened. I was driving on my normal route, and saw something that my brain could not make sense of. I just could not understand.
We have started referring to the few semaforos that are up as 'Christmas decorations'. They do not serve a discernible function. We suspect that they might be a part of some odd ritual. And in truth, they are really little more than pretty blinking red and green lights.
The first one I saw was green, and it terrified me. Because the green traffic light means that the people in the crossfire, no; crosshairs, on the opposite cross street have got a red light. And I don't have any way of predicting how they will act. Will they follow the rules we established without lights? Will they revert? Will I get half-way through the intersection and find out that the rules have not changed? Or that they have?
GAH!
And yes.... somehow that scenario appeals even more to my chaotic-neutral nature.
The best part, though, is what it represents. That bit by bit, power line by line, life is returning to normal here in Puerto Rico.
Estamos aqui.
For that matter, I am not sure that I understand the traffic rules that do apply here under normal circumstances. But we are definitely not in the land of "All lanes stop, and traffic proceeds in turns from the right".
In the post-Maria environment, driving in San Juan is a winner-take-all, devil-take-the-hindmost clustermess of the first order. And rights of tonnage do apply: the biggest, baddest vehicles win every head-to-head confrontation. Literally.
There is also a scarification system in place, where battered vehicles have an advantage over pristine ones. (Drafting on the bumper of a semi as it barrels through the intersections, riding the wave of scattered vehicles and honking sedans.... well, I find it to be an effective technique, when I can manage it.) The driving, as I mentioned before, appeals to my chaotic nature, and brings out a different personality in me. I love it.
And then this week, something terrible happened. I was driving on my normal route, and saw something that my brain could not make sense of. I just could not understand.
We have started referring to the few semaforos that are up as 'Christmas decorations'. They do not serve a discernible function. We suspect that they might be a part of some odd ritual. And in truth, they are really little more than pretty blinking red and green lights.
 |
| Sometimes they blink, sometimes they are stuck on red. |
GAH!
And yes.... somehow that scenario appeals even more to my chaotic-neutral nature.
The best part, though, is what it represents. That bit by bit, power line by line, life is returning to normal here in Puerto Rico.
Estamos aqui.
No comments:
Post a Comment