TWENTY-ONE: Traffic tribulations in Taipei
Special to the Advance
July 2004
Based on what I was told in my TESOL preparation course, I assumed that
my main mode of transportation in Taipei would be a motorized scooter. I was
actually looking forward to learning how to ride one.
My first job and apartment were in the suburbs outside the city and I
thought I could handle navigation through the moderate traffic on my way to
school. I even visited the expats’ favorite scooter dealer and arranged the
lease of a nice emerald green model that was going to cost me about three
dollars Canadian per week for fuel and a dollar a day to lease. I was pretty
excited.
Then my friend Brooke drove her scooter straight into the back of a
taxi. Unhurt save a sprained arm, she was nonetheless sufficiently shaken to
guarantee she would never pilot her own motorcycle ever again.
Another English teacher from South Africa broke her leg in three places
and had to take a month off of teaching, with no unemployment insurance to
cushion her budget. I see her from time to time in the gym, her leg in a brace,
attempting to scale three flights of stairs with crutches.
As the weather warmed up and people started wearing short sleeves and
pants, I began to notice nasty scars on a number of them, all over their arms
and legs. One of my adult students didn’t show up for class two weeks in a row
and when she did, she proudly showed off her wound, a multi-colored bruise
covering half of her thigh. She pointed out the raised bumps where gravel had
imbedded in her skin. “The doctor says he can’t get those out without surgery,”
she shrugged. I tried to hide my shock.
It’s actually quite rare to meet a scooter driver who hasn’t had an
accident in Taipei. This is because basic traffic rules do not apply here; it
is every man for himself. Yellow lights mean speed it up and red lights are
just a suggestion. Rear view mirrors are used for spying on the passengers in
your back seat (if you are a taxi driver) or they are removed altogether from
scooters as they increase the amount of space required to squeeze between two
vehicles.
As a result, you may have guessed, I decided not to lease my very own
shiny emerald green scooter with matching helmet, and my mother in Canada
breathed a sigh of relief.
Standing room only on the Taipei subway system leaves a lot to be
desired but at least the only real danger to my health down there under the
ground is the air-borne flu virus circulating in the stale train air.
When the traffic isn’t moving frighteningly fast, it is gridlocked.
During rush hour, drivers nose their vehicles inch by inch into intersections,
turning three lanes of traffic into five. In some Asian cities, vehicles become
so tightly packed at intersections that it is a regular occurrence to have tow
trucks or a crane summoned to pull them back out of the mess they have created.
Traffic cops armed with flashing batons are necessary at most busy
intersections during rush hour, as traffic lights just aren’t enough. They blow
whistles loud enough to wake the dead and wave their batons frantically in no
particular direction, like an avid sports fan in the stands.
Many times while sitting in the back of a taxi that has just cut off
another driver I have thought to myself, this is no place for road rage. I know
people who wouldn’t do very well in this scenario.
White knuckle taxi rides took on a whole new meaning for one of The
Aussie’s colleagues when, in the wee hours of the morning, a motorcycle drove
straight into the driver’s window of the cab he was riding in, killing both the
cyclist and taxi driver instantly. It took him a while to get used to being a
taxi passenger again but in Taipei you don’t have many choices.
Crossing guards have quite a job on their hands, wandering into traffic
that never stops, to usher their young charges safely to the other side. With
batons upheld and dramatic expressions on their faces they perform their duties
with such conviction, spread eagled like a move from the Village People’s YMCA.
They urge the schoolchildren to trot across the busy intersections rather than
walk. They aren’t taking any chances.
The workforce of Taipei
that chooses to travel by city bus has another challenge. Just because the sign
posted states that a bus will be stopping there at a given time doesn’t mean
that it will. If the bus driver sees the opportunity to get through an
intersection up ahead rather than stopping for one or two potential passengers,
he will take it. Your only hope is that the light will change to red and you
will have the chance to climb aboard. Every morning on my way to work I see the
masses huddled on the curb at the bus stop, waving anxiously at their bus, or
running frantically after it. The Aussie has been waiting for his commuter bus
more than once at the end of a twelve hour Friday only to have it speed by him.
The next one will be due in twenty minutes but you can bet it won’t show up for
forty. Nice way to begin a weekend.
The masses seem to have found a way around the lack of parking spaces in
Taipei. For temporary stops, just leave your car idling outside the cleaners or
the 7-11, run in and hope it doesn’t get side-swiped by a bus while you are
running your errands. For longer stops, when you have blocked someone in, just
leave your cell number on the windshield so they can call you and ask you to
move when necessary. Oh, and don’t worry if your car is parked in the turning
lane at an intersection, this is Taipei and that is normal.
Traffic culture shock to the new expat in Taipei is just part of life to
the local. I had my breath taken away last week by the sight of a young man
with one hand on the baby loosely strapped to his chest, a toddler standing on
the running board between his knees, and his other hand on the handlebar of his
scooter. It is a common sight to see families of four and five people loaded
onto one scooter, all with matching “Hello Kitty” helmets. The most common way
for students to arrive at my school in the morning is standing in front of their
mother on her scooter. She is obviously dressed for work, in stiletto heels and
short skirted business suit.
The busy Taipei streets are much too dangerous for anyone on a regular
non-motorized bicycle. Pedal power just isn’t enough to get them out of the
pinch between two city buses when they start to merge. So they ride on the
sidewalk, along with the occasional scooter looking for a parking space.
This makes taking a leisurely walk almost impossible. Then, if you learn
to look both ways before stepping out onto the sidewalk, and to jump out of the
way when you hear a bicycle bell ringing behind you, there is always pedestrian
traffic to consider.
‘The Asian Stroll’ phenomena refers to the manner in which most of the
locals travel on foot, taking up the middle third of the sidewalk, or the
entire sidewalk if they are walking with a friend, at a frustratingly slow
pace. Whether you are trying to overtake them from behind, or encountering them
head on, you are in for a challenge of physical maneuvering. Like ants marching
on a predestined course, they feel compelled to veer towards you and bump
shoulders. I think they get points for this. It’s the only way I can
rationalize it.
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