pedestrians
nov. 7
Today and nearly every time I ride my bike in Guinea, the confusion and miscommunications that result seem a good metaphor for the bigger picture:
Everyone involved starts with the best of intentions. My intention is not to hit anyone. The pedestrians' intention is to stay out of the way (i.e. not to get hit). That seems compatible enough. And yet, approached from both sides at once, it doesn't quite work. My deeply ingrained habit is to weave around them, leaving as much space as possible and only calling out when there is no space to pass. But here in Guinea, not getting hit is the pedestrian's responsibility rather than the driver's. Hearing me coming, a person on foot steps aside. Unfortunately I had already steered around her former position and so have to swerve now that she has stepped directly into my new path. So if I see that the old lady in front of me (old ladies are always the worst) does not hear me coming, I am torn between wanting to call out so as not to startle her and wanting to weave around her quietly to avoid all the useless dodging back and forth. But if she hears me at the last moment, even worse! Several times I have nearly run down old women on the path to the market. If I could only change my strategy to match the average Guinean's, we could avoid our clumsy ballet. Instead of weaving, this would require me to steer straight through on the smoothest part of the path and make obnoxious noise whenever my way was blocked, then trust the pedestrians to take care of themselves. Somehow I can't do this. Similarly, the old village women can't bring themselves to trust me to weave around them. And so most days we brake and dodge and nearly collide, but so far everyone's still in one piece.
maybe life everywhere is like this series of near-collisions, but it seems more so in guinea
Today and nearly every time I ride my bike in Guinea, the confusion and miscommunications that result seem a good metaphor for the bigger picture:
Everyone involved starts with the best of intentions. My intention is not to hit anyone. The pedestrians' intention is to stay out of the way (i.e. not to get hit). That seems compatible enough. And yet, approached from both sides at once, it doesn't quite work. My deeply ingrained habit is to weave around them, leaving as much space as possible and only calling out when there is no space to pass. But here in Guinea, not getting hit is the pedestrian's responsibility rather than the driver's. Hearing me coming, a person on foot steps aside. Unfortunately I had already steered around her former position and so have to swerve now that she has stepped directly into my new path. So if I see that the old lady in front of me (old ladies are always the worst) does not hear me coming, I am torn between wanting to call out so as not to startle her and wanting to weave around her quietly to avoid all the useless dodging back and forth. But if she hears me at the last moment, even worse! Several times I have nearly run down old women on the path to the market. If I could only change my strategy to match the average Guinean's, we could avoid our clumsy ballet. Instead of weaving, this would require me to steer straight through on the smoothest part of the path and make obnoxious noise whenever my way was blocked, then trust the pedestrians to take care of themselves. Somehow I can't do this. Similarly, the old village women can't bring themselves to trust me to weave around them. And so most days we brake and dodge and nearly collide, but so far everyone's still in one piece.
maybe life everywhere is like this series of near-collisions, but it seems more so in guinea
posted by amandab at 8:27 PM
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