The time had come to hit the road. 50CCs of hard charging Yamaha scooter were at my disposal. Shorts, t-shirt, helmet that was a half size too small: check, check, and check. We were ready to go.
Space suggested that we stay off the main roads and stick to the side streets so as to avoid any heavy traffic that can upset a scooter. And by side streets, he really meant the streets beside the side streets. Hell, they didn’t even have names and were best described as access paths for rice fields. Despite non-existent brakes, we arrived at his office without incident, but there was no way that I was going to remember how to get back.
Apart from major intersections, signage is largely absent. Determining who has the right of way is a mystery and you just slightly slow down to take a look around when you come to an intersection. Cars and bikes turn left in front of you without warning. Back home the police might charge you with attempted vehicular homicide for such a move; here, you are expected to accommodate and alter your course just enough to avoid a collision. Thankfully, everybody is used to this chaos and I have yet to see an accident.
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