No road rage and no traffic lights, that's Nepal. On the tour bus from the airport my first thought was: Thank God someone else is driving and my next was: Will we make it? As we approached the center of Kathmandu, I wished I were any place else. Trucks, buses, cars, three-wheelers, bicycles, rickshaws, men and women pushing carts or carrying huge bundles on their heads, pedestrians; they were all there. Our bus kept to the left, more or less, while the opposing stream seemed mainly to our right. At intersections, traffic slowed to a crawl but never stopped for more than a few seconds.
In the ensuing days I discovered that Nepal does have traffic rules - quite strict ones. It was just that, being a Westerner, culture shock slowed my understanding of them.
Of course we made it to the Hotel Vaisala in one piece, even though it was down a narrow side street the same width as the bus. In Nepal, smaller vehicles give way to larger ones. Later as I scurried after our tour guide I found out what it feels like to be a pedestrian. You walk in the road on the left only leaping over the open sewer onto the narrow sidewalk, if there is one, when a larger vehicle can't get through.
It was on the 200 km drive to Pokara that the Nepalese highway code became clearer. Trucks sported a gaily painted "Horn Please" on their tailgates and our bus complied tooting loudly as the driver pulled out to pass. If this happened to be just before a blind corner oncoming traffic could hear him. When we met another bus on a sharp corner, the two would drive half way along each other and then inch forward till both were clear. No one seemed to be in a hurry. Trucks were marked 40 km and our speedometer seldom exceeded 60 km.
The respect for life that the Buddhist and Hindu religions inculcate in their followers is probably the secret to the absence of road rage. In Nepal, if the vehicle you are driving kills a cow, you get an automatic ten year jail term. For a mere human, the penalty is less. I saw no dead animals by the roadside and only one truck with its windshield smashed in. You never know — the goat darting out in front of your vehicle could be the reincarnation of the uncle who died a couple of years ago. The Nepalese respect all life.
Rental cars come with a driver though foreigners can drive with a Nepali or International Driver's licence. Most don't try except perhaps on motorcycles. If you do, remember particularly in villages to watch out for wandering ducks and children. It's best to let the locals drive you, especially as they often have relatives who can fix breakdowns or smooth your way through the many police and toll checkpoints along the way.
Five days later, when I left the country, I had gotten quite used to the apparent chaos. The slow pace was ideal for our photographic tour group as the bus could stop for pictures almost anywhere without disrupting traffic.
