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Driving the Roads of the Dominican Republic May 8-10, 2006 |
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Cyber Gothic Lives - Road Chaos TerrifiesNever have I seen such chaos on the road. It was not uncommon to see three cars or trucks, side by side on a two lane road coming directly at you. They might get our of your way or they might drive you into the shoulder. Rather than wait in a left hand turn lane, it was not uncommon for a car to cross lanes and drive toward you on the right shoulder. Scooters out numbered cars five to one. They were like cockroaches with motors scurrying for cover when the lights come on. They served as buses, taxis, and trucks, driving four or five abreast. Their motion was completely unpredictable, creating their own lanes in the center of the road or on the shoulders, ignoring the direction of traffic flow. To supplement the chaos, taxis stopped anywhere, in any lane. Their dare devil driving was reflected in their lack of head lights or tail lights. Fenders were dented as if repeated smashed with a hammer. We even saw a dead donkey in the road. My nerves were frazzled. This was truely society out of control, this was Cyber Goth; this was Mad Max; this was civilization at its most primitive level.
We were not on a road; we were on a ragging river of motorized humanity. People were strapped to motorized contraptions impersonating cars. They hurled themselves in all directions without regard for traffic laws or conventions. The raging ocean looked tame compared to the roads of the DR.
All photos were taken through the windows of our rental car. At one gridlock point a raged boy washed our windshield. Good for him. When I indicated I did not want to pay, he pointed to the freshly opened cold Pepsi that I had just purchased. He pointed at the Pepsi then at his mouth. We were stopped at gridlock. We could not move. I wanted to put my foot to the accelerator and escape, but we were victims of the roads of terror. What would he do to our car if I did not tip him or give him my Pepsi? He won; I rolled down the window and handed him my cold Pepsi. He needed a cold drink more than me anyway. Grabbing it from my hand, he lapped it up like a thirsty dog. Get me back to the boat. I have had enough of the land of enchantment. While gated resorts, Like Playa Dorado charged German tourists $500 a night for hotel rooms, the people on the street lived in medivel darkness. I want no part of it, but yet I am here. We drove Ray to the airport on the 9th; we will set sail on the 10th.
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