Driving - Let's pretend we're in a video game

Imagine driving on bad roads, surrounded by Audi and BMW drivers in 4WDs. They are all drunk. And late. With no driving licence. In a race. At rush hour. On Spaghetti Junction, full of pot holes. In the rain, with no street lights and no road signs. Not knowing where you’re going. With 3 people in the back seat talking at the same time telling you to go in different directions. Welcome to Brazil!

I’ve never been a fan of South American roads. Since spending a year on them in various forms of transport, travelling the length and breadth of the continent, I’ve wanted to avoid them. I’ve always been intrigued by the contrast between the Latin culture and the Latin driving culture. The former is laidback, easy-going, slow moving. The latter is urgent, aggressive and stressful.

People drive in a constant state of road rage, of being late, of needing to drive faster than anyone else on the road (and there is stiff competition). Leaving a roundabout, they’ll try to overtake you before even making an assessment of your speed. They just have to overtake. Approaching a roundabout they have to overtake you with only few metres before the roundabout. So that they can then overtake more cars on the roundabout and one more coming off the roundabout.

Death is so present here every day. The news is graphic, and full of death and accidents. Everyone has people close to them that have died recently. Everyone knows a victim of a violent death. Death is just a part of life, people seem immune to its risk and don’t take the usual steps to avoid it. And when anything does happen, it’s God’s will.

Each month there are 300 admissions in the city hospital resulting from road traffic accidents.

On my travels through South America I got the impression that when people board a long distance bus they accept the risk that they may not survive it. I never adapted to that. I tend to assume I’ll make it to the other end.

I have started driving here. I’m fairly used to driving on the wrong (right) side, and the weird rules they have here. It remains the thing that stresses me, although I am getting used to it. No-one indicates, the lanes are not painted. Turn offs, roundabouts and rights of way are not signposted. Nor are the speed bumps. People drive, and park, how they want, and where they want. And people don’t wear seat belts. But that’s another story.

No-one I know, but maybe one day