Who’s The Crazy One?

Last week I spent three days teaching at Atiriu Agricultural Training Centre, one of the projects attached to the Across Peace Economy programme.  Each day I left our house at 8:00AM, drove the hour long (25km) drive to AATC, taught till 3:30ish and drove home.

On Friday I was travelling home for the last time, with a car full of students plus one of our security guards, when a funny little incident occurred.  To understand the situation it might be necessary to provide some background information: It’s the rainy season in South Sudan.  (We recently had a night where it was 24C in the house! Almost needed a blanket) This is also bad road season.  Roads go through a cycle in our area.  At first they are beautiful two lane gravel highways.  Then a few spots develop potholes.  Drivers are creative and go around them utilizing the shoulders.  As more potholes develop, more of the shoulder is put into action until eventually the shoulder becomes the primary route to get from point A to point B.  Then the shoulders start to break down as well so you find drivers darting back and forth between the shoulder and the actual road seeking the path of least resistance. 

By the end of the rainy season, a driver must simultaneously assess four different lanes (two originals plus both shoulders) for the least jarring route.  In some places all four are in decent condition.  In others you’re down to half a lane that is still passable and that lane could be any of the four or often a combination.  Right now there are actually long stretches where the best option is one set of wheels on the main road and one on the shoulder, leaving passengers leaning one way or the other.

Returning to my incident, I was darting back and forth and had just arrived on the left shoulder (technically you are supposed to drive on the right hand side in South Sudan) when I looked ahead and identified an old man on a bicycle heading straight for me.  As we neared each other he motioned, with some anger, for me to move back to the right.  In my vehicle my passengers greeted this motion with a round of chuckles, guffaws and one person calling the cyclist “a crazy man.”

Here we had an old man cycling (on the correct shoulder where he is supposed to be), a Big Landcruiser (driving two lanes over on the opposite shoulder from where it is supposed to be), and me, wondering who actually deserves the title of crazy man.   

I eased two wheels back on to the main road leaving half a lane for him to pass, then immediately returned to the shoulder.