THOUGHTS ON TRAFFIC
SYNOPSIS: Traffic is a different ballgame in Pakistan; a few observations on roads, trains, and air travel.Traffic in any Middle Eastern country is scary and Pakistan is no exception. Yes, there are traffic rules and laws similar to the Western world. But the difference is that these rules seem to be mere suggestions. Shabir, our driver would have no problem going the wrong way into a one-way street if this would shorten his trip by a few hundred feet… A three lane highway sports easily as many as five motor bikes, overloaded trucks, tractors, or cars across. And the idea of waiting your turn at an intersection seems altogether alien. And this is just for starters.Pedestrians, and there are many of them, assert their right by stepping into the flow of traffic at any given time. Any such action in the Western world would bring traffic to a screeching halt or cause multiple accidents. Here, pedestrians and cars engage in a sort of a dance, sliding by each other with inches to spare. The trick is to gage the opponent’s speed and to indicate a clear and confident speed of your own. This allows all participants to slow down just enough to miss a potential target. Thankfully, one can make the assumption that neither participant wants to die or cause anyone else’s death. But after that, it’s all a matter of luck.There are trains in Pakistan and we were looking forward to taking the train across the country from North to South. But Benazir Bhutto’s assassination just days before our scheduled departure put a dent into that idea. Trains, for some reason, became the target of vandalism and violence all across the country. Is that because they are government run? What stupidity to target public transportation in a country which so heavily relies on it? Which political gain could possibly come from it? Yet, train stations had to be shut down, tracks were ripped off and trains lay sweltering and smoldering along the wayside. Go figure!Air traffic between large cities is surprisingly modern, affordable, and quick. Since the trains were out of commission and a road trip would have taken forever, we opted for the plane between Multan and Karachi. We got tickets the same day without a huge mark-up. Now, that could have been due to the general strike and the political upheaval we found ourselves in, but I don’t think so. Just about any sensible person had canceled non-essential travel to Sindh, the birth province of Benazir Bhutto. But we went and the plane was reasonably full. It was a special night, the 31st of 2007. Over the plane’s loudspeaker the captain wished his two foreign travelers a Happy New Year. What a nice touch! It brought me to tears. I had not kept track of time for several days, being absorbed in the upheaval and the day to day decisions that followed. It made me realize how much tension we were under. A glass of champagne and the celebration of the New Year seemed like a mirage from a different planet.One thing holds true for all overland travel: Roads are crowded. There are not just the obligatory cars and trucks, the many overcrowded mini-buses, overloaded motor bikes, and horribly over stacked cotton trucks, but there are also the animals that travel alongside it all. The most startling experience we had on this trip caused by the assassination of Benazir Bhutto was, how overnight the roads were empty. An occasional daring car, a lonely biker and a few pedestrians were left. But from Lahore to Multan we had a four-lane highway almost to ourselves. It was haunting! The slow return to the roads indicated the slow return to normalcy in the country like nothing else. For a brief few days we were the kings and queens of the road. What an experience.