Driving is a large part of life in Amman. Whether you are sitting in the backseat or the drivers seat. I have written about my many taxi experiences, of which there are always more to add, but there are some stories and thoughts from the front seat which I will share this time. Driving here is like nothing I have seen or experienced before. Though I hear it is much worse in other countries and I shudder at the thought.
Driving in Amman: At first there is fear. It seems as though there is no sense to the madness of the traffic circles the endless honking and the dreadful parking. You can probably count the number of traffic lights in this city on two hands and maybe a foot. The city is based around traffic circles, that is how you give directions and that is how you navigate your way. It takes a long time to learn all the different circles, their names, where they lead, and whether you should go over, under, left of right.
As in any city the driving becomes easier when you know where you are going, the apprehension of being lost is gone, and you can focus on your driving rather than searching for the right exit. It is at this point that you begin to notice that rather than the sheer chaos you first perceived, there is an etiquette to driving here. There is a method to the madness of the traffic circle, nothing that would resemble how it would function in Canada but it make sense after a while. The trick is to inch your way out, bit by bit, until there is a small hole into which you can fit. (That drivers ed rule of staying one car length behind any car – that my Dad drilled into me – went out the window a while ago!) Once you find that space, you gun it to get through the circle. The signal light is somewhat optional, it is rarely used, handy as it is, ya know, designed to keep other drivers informed, but meh, who needs it, when you have a horn!
The horn. There is an entire culture in the car horn. I think I could study it for years and even write a book on it. The horn is to be used in several instances, most importantly it is what is used in place of the shoulder check. To move ones neck 45 degrees is far too troublesome, so the car that is in your blindspot honks to let you know they are there. As this would happen several times when driving, you can only imagine how many honks there are in a day. But this is not the only time the horn is used. Perhaps you want to pass someone, you can honk, or you can flash them with your lights so they move over.
Hazard lights, which I believe were one of the culprits of my failing my first driving test (because I didn’t know where the button was) are front and centre here, literally. You can easily find it, its right there, in the middle of the dashboard of every car, the largest and most used, to the point of being physically worn down, button in any vehicle in Amman. At any moment, whether there is a red light ahead, a pedestrian braving death to cross the road or a taxi that finally reached its limit and died mid trip, you must turn on your hazard lights. This is a warning to all traffic behind you to slow down, and it is the only thing that is taken seriously. A red light ahead doesn’t necessarily equate using your break but hazard lights do. They are also used for the many many vehicles that are parked in no parking areas or along the side of a road that is not wide enough for two cars on a good day let alone with a parked car. And if you have your hazard lights on then you are safe from the angry honks, you justified your stopping, with your lights.
Beyond the honking and the flashing of lights there is something to be said about drivers in Amman. With all the noise you would think them angry, aggressive and suffering from an intense case of road rage, but with the few exceptions who most certainly are, I have found them to be quite the opposite. Most drivers are friendly and understanding when it comes to being cut off, or a car inching its way in front of you. I have witnessed several conversations that happen during a traffic jam through open windows to perfect strangers but always filled with affectionate phrases like ‘habibi’.
This word even turns up post car accident. I have been in several car accidents here in Jordan ( I dread my mothers reaction to this information), none of a serious nature, mostly expensive fender benders. These happen probably as often as I draw breath in this city. The few I have experienced have been eye openers to say the least. The first was on my way home from the Dead Sea, the road was slippery and a car pulled out ahead of us and not using their hazard lights sufficiently, as they were going much too slow, the shanty breaks of our rental car just couldn’t do it. We smashed right into their bumper. All the cars around us stopped. Several people got out as did my Arab friend who was driving. Without us knowing a man called the rental agency for us, and handed my friend the phone. Eventually we pulled the two cars over to the side of the road so the rest of the traffic could get on their way. The traffic police were conveniently behind us and we all loaded into their van. Having very little Arabic at the time I had no idea what was going on. All I knew was this wouldn’t be cheap. But the man from the car ahead and the police officers had nothing but smiles and reassuring looks for me. There were many kisses and habibi’s exchanged, cigarettes shared as papers were signed and bills were payed and then off we went. That was it. If you think about it, what is the point of getting angry anyways, car accidents happen so often here, its just another day.
From taxis to rentals to friends cars, half of my time here is spent in a moving vehicle and though my life has flashed before my eyes on several occasions, it has also been the most eye opening experience of Jordanian culture.
countlesspetals 