Egypt is full of vehicles. Cars, trucks, buses, bicycles, rickshaws, carts, donkeys, camels, your own two feet; there are a lot of people who need to get around, and they take any way they can in order to get where they're going. Tons of people own their own cars, but they face the same grevious problem as the rest of the world: chronic shortage of parking spaces. There are cars lining the streets, packed in so tight I'm amazed they can even wiggle into those little spots. There are cars parked on corners, somehow defying the laws of physics and wrapping their otherwise solid bodies around the curved corners, with their sideview mirrors carefully folded in so as to not get removed by a third party. Cars are everywhere. I've only seen three designated parking lots since I've been here, and only was was nearly empty -- that's at Carrefour, where the parking lot is as big as the Sahara, like you'd expect at a Westernized shopping center (it's not exactly Nordstrom's, but it is Wal-Mart's biggest international competitor). Finding a space on the street sometimes entails a half hour circular drive around the block, stalking through miniscule side streets, hunting the elusive prey called Parking with ruthless abandon. It's a miracle people obey the no parking signs here -- I've seen some pretty illegal moves on the roads, but for some reason no one parks where they're not to supposed to. Sometimes, even they just won't park in a certain spot, but there are no signs or warnings, so perhaps it's an unwritten rule that I have yet to figure out.
Anything involving vehicles in Egypt, motorized or not, can be summed up in one sentence: he who has the bigger balls, goes first. Everything, and I mean everything, is a giant game of chicken between cars, bigger cars, buses, and pedestrians. Those who hesitate get cut off, pushed out, forced to wait, or die, and it's really sort of a toss up which outcome you end up with. The actual act of driving consists of a never-ending series of honks and jerky motions, as the raees (driver, sort of) weaves in and out of traffic with careless ease. Don't listen to what the Lonely Planet travel guide tells you -- unless you're on the big intercity highways, no one obeys the speed limit. I am beginning to think that speed limits in Alexandria proper are an apocryphal thing, since everyone I've ever been in a car with has chosen different kilometers per hour to drive, all of which have been equally pant-shitting. There are countless fender-benders on my street every day, let alone in Alexandria or even Egypt. If something happens, the drivers might get out, yell at each other in rapid Arabic, then get back in their cars and drive off -- there's no such thing as insurance, really, and even though people get some decent dents they don't seem to want to repair them.
To avoid accidents such as the above, people rely on honking instead of a system of traffic rules. As you approach an intersection, you start to honk -- hopefully other people will hear you and stop, and again, you play chicken. Someone cuts you off: honk. Someone wants to turn: honk. Speed not fast enough: honk. Celebrating a wedding: honk. Feeling like honking: honk. Karim said there was a system of meanings to go along with said antics, but I am fairly sure he's bullshitting. Of course, I have no idea, so maybe all the drivers who honk three times in rapid succession are, in fact, calling each other sheep fuckers, but that seems a little vulgar for an Islamic society, or at least my perhaps preconceived notions of how an Islamic society should behave.
More severe accidents are dealt with by ambulances, I assume. I have never seen one, and I really don't care to find out firsthand how these emergencies are dealt with. Now that Ramadan is over, there has been an exponential increase in the number of sirens I hear every day. Unfortunately, sirens and ambulance-ness don't really mean much here -- they might be given marginally more leeway in terms of the general mash of "me first" but largely, ambulances are relegated to sitting in traffic just like everyone else. Sirens wailing, lights flashing, but no one cares -- it's frightening, really, and frustrating. Don't other drivers know there's someone dying in the back?
(Speaking of "me first," I was in a fast food joint today, in the huge mess of people shouting their orders and waving money at the cashier, when lo and behold a woman comes up behind me to butt in front. Literally behind me -- she was way too close for comfort with her sweaty boobs pressed against my back, and when I not so politely cut off her means of wiggling in front, she proceeded to rest her arm on my shoulder while waving money at the cashier. What. The. Fuck. Honestly you fucking tart, I was here first, and while I understand that anything that has to do with lines in the U.S. turns into a veritable free-for-all in Egypt, I was five seconds from punching you in the face when the cashier took my money and told you to wait.)
Crossing streets is enormously dangerous, because the same traffic rules apply even though people are soft and fleshy whereas cars are not. Egyptians just walk right out into the road without too much of a care, and it's simply stunning how they manage to walk right across a busy road without getting run over by the cars who absolutely will not stop for anything save a brick wall. There are no cross-walks since people don't obey traffic lights. Sometimes there will be a policeman who will "direct" traffic, but most of the time you're stuck with attempting to cross on your own. It's best to find a group of people or at least a woman with a child, because no one wants to hit a kid. If you look semi-aged, you're fair game, because eighteen years of plenty of life and there's a dangerous population boom right now anyway.
Public transportation abounds. You can get a taxi to anywhere in Alexandria for two US dollars. Sometimes the driver will try to rip you off -- just get out of the cab and walk away. Cab drivers may also stop and pick up others along the way, so you may end up sharing a ride (you're free to tell him no, of course). You also have the option of riding the cheaper microbuses, but then you are forced to actually share with strangers and you're stuck with a set route that the driver chooses, usually along the Corniche. There are also real buses that patrol the streets, but I've never been on one and I don't really like the looks of them, so I may pass on that. There is also a tram that runs along one or two lines, which only costs 25 piastres (5 cents) but is slow and again, only takes you to certain places. Finding a friend with a car is a nice luxury, but obviously they don't always have time and parking is a bitch, so most of the time a taxi is the best idea.
On a related note, you can squeeze up to nine people in a VW Golf. This is not legal in the US.
another truckstop on the way another game that I can play another word I learn to say
another blasted customs post another bloody foreign coast another set of scars to boast
WE ARE THE ROAD CREW
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