Flow of Traffic

First off, I'm getting closer to caught up with real time.. I've been typing in my handwritten journals as I get the time to do so, but soon I'll be writing a little more 'live'. Also, thanks to all those who have said 'hi', I don't have most people's email addresses on my webmail so I can't reply personally. For those who want to know, my email address is mylastname.10@osu.edu

Anyhow, on with the tale...

So I was feeling a little irate about not being picked up at the airport and feeling a little ripped off by the porter. And, I wasn't entirely certain if I was being taken to where I wanted to go. The airport is a fair distance from town, so I got to see a bit of the countryside on the way. Mostly dirt, not much plant life. It was, as expected, very hot compared to the air conditioned airport, and the air was thick with dust and smog. As we approached town we passed through some of the poorer areas on the outskirts. Houses were made of plain cinder blocks, many with partial walls on at least one side. This scene went on for some time, so I asked the driver if most of the city looked like this, but he said no, the older parts were much better. This was the most conversation I was ready to muster in Arabic at the time.

The driver didn't appear to be concerned with the dividing lines on the freeway, and neither was anyone else. It felt like we were going pretty fast, so I looked at the speedometer - nearly 140 km/h. I didn't know how that translated to mph, but it was fast enough to be a little scary, particularly in the small, beat-up cab with all the windows rolled down, the driver smoking a cigarette as we fled down the freeway. He had a number of pictures taped on his dashboard. I looked for one of Mel Gibson as the Road Warrior, but they all appeared to be of his family. Sometimes another slower car would appear in the 'lane' we were using, and the driver would simply honk his horn at them a few times and they yielded to us. As we got into town the traffic got thicker and I found that this was the technique employed by all drivers in Damascus. The road from the airport had quickly turned into something like downtown streets, with sidewalks packed with people passing in front of shops of all varieties. The road itself was filled with taxis, buses, minivans with signs on them indicating their routes ('services', pronounced ser-VEE-ses, another kind of public transportation), and a small number of privately owned vehicles. There were also those insane enough to ride bicycles or walk within this mess. All of them flowed through the streets like blood cells in an artery, with no real lanes and few traffic controls. There were some roundabouts, like you might find in London, and very few intersections with traffic lights. Beige uniformed police with orange and white batons suggested the flow of traffic at the more complex junctions. (Though not so many with automatic weapons, as some sources had told me.)

The driver passed through all of this very efficiently. I was surprised to have not seen any wrecks, and so far (this was a week and a half ago) I have seen neither an accident nor a traffic jam. Its free market theory applied to traffic, and it works well. The only drawback is the constant honking of horns that drivers use to let each other know where they are. Its not an angry honk, like when someone cuts you off, its merely an indicator, a kind of collective sonar that skillful drivers use to keep from colliding with each other. Ok, sometimes its an angry honk. Its a very complex language, all spoken in rhythms created by the single tone of a car horn. I haven't seen a rental car agency in Damascus, and I don't think there ever would be one. But, this city is full of surprises for the foreign traveler, so that may exist as well. I just wouldn't recommend it to anyone who isn't a professional driver on the NASCAR circuit.

The driver turned into a dark alley I was certain was not intended for car traffic, but he was confident. It was barely wide enough to open the car doors on either side. The chaos of the city streets suddenly gave way to a much more tranquil setting. On either side of the alley on a raised deck were restaurant tables with candles on them, and people casually enjoying a meal. The car turned a corner and came to a stop in front of the well-lit open doorway to the lobby of the Hotel al-Majed.