Rules of the Road: Volume One

Baby Car back in November just after I bought her

I apologize for the drought of interesting blog entries.  Things have been busy and I haven’t been so great at making myself sit down and write about the things happening here every day.  To be honest, I can’t tell you about my routine because I just don’t have one.  I started to think about the things I could share about my stay here and my day to day life.  One thing that never ceases to be a burden and a benefit is my car.  Driving in Bamako is an adventure every day.  It is one major source of my proudest accomplishments, biggest time savers, greatest frustrations, tears, anger, relief, and much more.  There are days when having and using my car make things so much easier and put me at ease.  And other days when I get pulled over multiple times, get flat tires, have to sit at the garage, get screamed at by crazy Malian chauffeurs, and end up generally frustrated.  What better stories to share than the ins and outs of these extreme emotions and (hopefully) interesting anecdotes?!? 

Rule of the Road Number One is: Creativity is Key

Rule of the Road number one could just as easily be that there are no rules, but this would be exaggerating just a bit.  Rather, I like to think of this rule in terms of positives- meaning that creativity and innovation are key parts to driving in Bamako.  Being a clever driver is always useful because it can help you 1) cut in front of more cars, 2) get places more quickly, 3) avoid more accidents, 4) avoid getting pulled over, 5) and generally make for less waiting and more eventful car trips. 

Creative driving includes, but is not limited to:  using the shoulder to avoid waiting in traffic and then cutting in front of all the cars you just passed; driving in the middle of two lanes to prevent anyone from passing you and thereby maintaining your position “in front”; slowly inching into traffic until you have completely blocked one lane and drivers are forced to let you turn in front of them or cross a street; passing slow moving cars on narrow roads with finesse and (sometimes reckless) agility; having your broken down van towed by your friend’s two door starlet to get it to the garage (I don’t think I’ve ever seen a real functioning tow truck here…).   But two of the biggest keys to creative driving that I have noticed are short cuts and detours. 

Traffic on the "new bridge"- four lanes with a median!

Every taxi driver has his own short cuts.  He might take you down a dirt road that zig-zags through a quartier that you didn’t even know existed just to avoid a police post where he might get pulled over.  He might take you down a street he knows has a great fruit selection because he wants to buy some mangoes, but also because he swears this way is faster (of course).  Similarly, taxi drivers are usually excellent when it comes to detours.  In the city, streets (or worse, bridges) can be closed inexplicably (or for instance, at commonly known but never posted times like Friday during the afternoon prayer), routes can be blocked entirely by accidents at rush hour, or traffic jams can make attempts at forward motion so futile that you feel forced to change your route.  There are never posted detours during any of these times.  In fact, even during road work there are never any signs offering assistance to drivers seeking a way around the mess that is created while improvements are being made.  In a city where road signs are almost non-existent to begin with, detours are just as important as short cuts and must be memorized through experience or trial and error. 

I am beginning to feel more and more capable and more and more Malian in my mastery and use of short cuts and detours.  I know that if the traffic for the old bridge* is backed up to the last light before my house, I should cut down a parallel side street and turn right into traffic just before the bridge, avoiding up to a 20 minute wait.  I know that if I take the old bridge, I should make an immediate left upon leaving the bridge instead of sitting on a one way road waiting to turn right and being “cut” by big trucks and annoying taxis.  I now know at least four different ways to get from my neighborhood to the Hippodrome neighborhood where several friends live and I have even come up with variations on these four major trajectories.  In cases of bad traffic or accidents, I detour accordingly.  In short, I feel like I have gotten to know Bamako over time by driving around town and operating through trial and error.

Crossing the "old bridge"- two lanes and lots of proximity to motos

However, I was reminded this weekend that I shouldn’t feel overconfident about my shortcut savviness.  The crazy drivers and traffic patterns in Bamako can always find a way to throw “sure things” for a loop.  It was Saturday around noon.  I was running a little late for lunch at my research assistant, Binta’s, house.  The bridge gave me little trouble and I wasn’t even sweating too much as I approached my favorite and most clever shortcut…. The fruit road by the French embassy that helped avoid the  crazy one-way street near the Bank of Africa (I know… these landmarks aren’t very helpful, but just know that I had historically saved up to 20 minutes of waiting time using this very shortcut!).  I waited a little longer than usual after making my turns and it slowly became apparent that no one was moving- not the line of cars I was waiting in or the vehicles approaching the intersection from the other road.  There was actually a police officer directing traffic, and as I approached the intersection (eventually, and slowly), I tried to make eye contact and indicate that I didn’t understand what was going on.  People seemed to be turning around, and it appeared as though there was a bus up ahead blocking the narrow thoroughfare.  Still, it didn’t look like anything too grave.  However, the officer was making everyone in my lane turn left or make a U-turn to avoid the road ahead.  Once I gathered this and decided on the U-turn option, I took a moment to shake my fist at the middle aged man behind me blaring his horn and yelling at me as though I was the one to cause the need for a detour, and then I turned. 

During my shortcut, I snapped pictures of this trash pile on the route

Now, I had a problem.  I was back at square one where I had exited the bridge, and I had no idea how to get around the particularly tricky stretch of road that was blocked.  A similar scenario had presented itself before- that time I was coming from the opposite direction at night and found the road blocked by three semi trucks who had not done a very good job of sharing an intersection.  I had to totally retrace my route and make a  large arc around the scene of the jam.  On Saturday I had no particular desire to make a huge detour out of my way and I knew there were back roads frequented by taxis, semis, and other vehicles, so I decided I would risk it.  I called my research assistant and got instructions from her husband and set out on a bumpy dirt road that was filled with other motorists cleverly avoiding the roadblock in the same way that I was. 

Cows eating trash while I wait in traffic taking a detour

The detour was relatively uneventful, and Binta’s kind husband, Cissouma, met me along the route to guide me the last bit towards their home.  Even that was a little tricky as a road that was normally passable had been blockaded that morning by huge trucks and some makeshift barriers.  Finally, I arrived Chez Binta, only 20 minutes late and a little sweatier for the effort.  But now, I was armed with a route that could be a useful detour in the future, or even a new short cut!  Over fonio (Malian cous cous) and delicious peanut sauce (Binta added cabbage because I told her I liked it a lot), we discussed research, English language, photography, their son, Oto, and of course- the lamentable route that ran past their neighborhood and had caused me momentary difficulties.  “It’s terrible!”  Cissouma agreed, in a supportive way.  He suggested I give myself extra time to get home before my next engagement so that I could have time to spare in case of heavy traffic.  I willingly agreed and headed out to face my destiny on the road…. Fifteen shortcut-less minutes later, I was home without a hitch.  Thanks to a little creative driving (I blew by a slow moving truck before reaching the bridge, and blared my horn at some taxis trying to cut in front of me from the side of the road), and a fortunately minimal amount of traffic, I had an uneventful trip- the best kind! 

Be sure to stay tuned for upcoming entries on other things that can make for eventful car trips…. Read about my tactics for avoiding police officers and about my experiences with Malian mechanics!

*The city of Bamako is separated by the Niger River.  I live on the south side of the river in a slightly more residential area whereas the city center, biggest markets, US Embassy, and many friends are on the North side of the river.  The two halves are connected by two bridges… the “old bridge” is a 2 lane bridge closest to my house that leads straight into the main market.  The “new bridge” is a 4 lane crossing point that goes close to the US Embassy.