Chaotic doesn’t begin to describe the traffic in much of the developing world.
One of my earliest memories of it takes place in Mumbai, which I visited in the late 80s. I was thoroughly intimidated by the convergence of cows, bicycles, motorcycles, cars and pedestrians on the thoroughfares and side streets. Crossing them seemed undoubtedly was perilous to the extreme.
I since have witnessed similar congestion and danger, usually without the cows, in Asia and Africa.
Here in Phnom Penh, what looks like chaos actually turns out to be more like a mutable form of brinksmanship. Or chicken. Continue reading